"Scorpius! Come on we need to get to Diagon Alley before the hoards arrive." A very weary Draco Malfoy yelled up the stairs to his son before returning to stare at his own reflection in the dusty mirror hung in the hall. Blank grey eyes glared back at him as if the spark of life had faded entirely. The past few years had not been easy on the young-ish man who now looked as though he were at least a decade older than he is. Thinning hair, deep frown lines and distant eyes, Draco was almost looking forward to his son going away for months; now he would be able to get some rest and recuperation.
Hearing no response from his 11 year old son, he made his way down the cramped hallway to the crooked staircase, this house was very different from the luxuries he himself had enjoyed and endured in his youth, taking the steps two at a time, using the banister to propel him upwards.
"Scorp?" He asked, knocking on his son's bedroom door. After waiting momentarily for a response and getting none, he opened the door.
"Scorp, come on now we'll be late-" Draco began, but was distracted by the sight that greeted him. Scorpius Malfoy, a short boy for his age, hair even more blonde than his father's, sat on the floor next to his pristinely made bed in a meticulously ordered bedroom reading. Reading a book with an unmistakable design on the front, Draco's eyes flitted down to his left forearm before he jolted into action, striding across the room he grabbed the book from Scorpius' grasp.
"Where did you get this?" Draco murmured, a look of shock and disgust clear on his face but an element of sorrow lurked behind his eyes.
"I found it at Grandma's house. She said I have a right to know my heritage." Scorpius stood, making to reach for the book, now firmly encased in his father's arms but before he could reach it, the book burst into flames that glowed slightly green.
"If I ever catch you reading anything like this again Scorpius, you will regret it. Do you understand?" Despite the harshness of his words, Draco's voice was still low, he was almost whispering.
"I understand."
"Good. Now get your cloak, we need to get you your Hogwarts robes and books, You leave this Friday.
"Well duh" Scorpius replied, the sarcasm dripping off each word.
Draco just sighed in response. It had been like this for the past 6 months. At first when Astoria had left them, Scorpius had been a sweet boy like most 7 year olds. They'd looked after each other and when Astoria had died it stayed much the same if not strengthening the bond between father and son. But something had changed in the last 6 months, the boy had become resigned, quiet and yet at the same time snarky and rude. Draco just hoped that Hogwarts could have some luck where he had failed.
The pair flooed into the leaky cauldron, making their way through the wall into the bustling chaos of Diagon Alley the week before term begins. Their ears were assaulted by the hoots of owls, cries of babies, yells of excited youngsters and shouts of aggrieved parents.
"I don't know why I agreed to come here with you Ronald!" Hermione Granger came storming towards Draco and Scorpius and the gateway out of this assiduous landscape.
"Because we said we'd do this sort of thing together! You know, for our children, 'Mione!" Ron Weasley struggled after her, attempting to keep up with the fierce witch.
"Could you slow down so we can talk about this?" He said, the desperation practically dripping from every word.
"I have nothing left to say. I'll see you at the weekend at King's Cross. Come on Rose lets -" But Hermione was cut off as she crashed into her eavesdropper.
"Malfoy, I'm so-" She began, taking a step backwards from the blonde wizard.
"Don't sweat it Granger. I can see your day is already bad enough," Draco said, smirking over Hermione's shoulder to her disgruntled ex-husband.
"Yes well, you shouldn't really have been listening."
"Granger, I don't think anyone this side of Hogwarts had much choice in the matter." He sniped back, smirking slightly before smiling. "Anyway, me and Scorp have a lot of business to attend to so if you'll excuse us," Draco reached to pull on Scorpius' elbow and move past Hermione and Rose.
"You know, you could just say shopping Malfoy!" Hermione called after him, grinning at her words as she and her daughter stepped back into the Leaky Cauldron.
"Can't I go get my things on my own, dad?" Scorpius asked after they had gotten some galleons out at Gringotts.
"What and give you a chance to find more books like the one you were reading this morning? I don't think so. I may not win father of the year but I'm not a complete idiot, Scorp." Draco replied firmly, steering them both in the direction of Ollivander's wand shop.
"Now son this is a rite of passage for any young witch or wizard. Take as long as you need." Draco assured his son with a comforting pat on the back as they entered the dingy, cramped yet quaint little shop.
"Ah Mr Malfoy, I wondered when you might be coming along." Came a croaky voice from the shadows, behind the front desk. As he stepped into the light, Draco noticed how his bright eyes seemed to have sunken even further into his face, though still glinted along with his silvery hair which could've given even Dumbledore's a run for its money.
"Why don't we start with a Hawthorn wand, similar to the one I sold to your father all those years ago." Ollivander turned, heading back to run his skeletal hands along the rows upon rows of wand boxes. Draco retreated to sit in an armchair by the front window, a new addition he noticed, gladly.
He returned moments later with a wand, gesturing for Scorpius to take it and 'give it a wave'. Not much happened, a sad look momentarily crossed the young Malfoy's face and he looked round to the older Malfoy, who gave an encouraging smile to his son.
After several unsuccessful attempts, Ollivander pulled down a pine wand.
As soon as Scorpius picked it up, something changed in the room, Draco could almost feel the magic sparking in the air.
"I think this is the wand, Mr Malfoy. Yes. Pine and phoenix feather, twelve and a half inches, a slight flexibility to it. A very good wand for who promises to be a very strong young wizard. Congratulations Mr Malfoy." Ollivander said with that airy excitement that only he seemed to possess.
After paying for the wand, father and son headed over to Flourish and Blotts, buying all of the necessary school books as well as some about the Second Wizarding War from the perspective of the light rather than the dark side. Draco hoped that sneaking these into his son's trunk might give him a greater understanding for the necessity of the war and the destruction of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Next on the agenda was the Apothecary and Potage's Cauldron shop for Scorpius' potions class. While Draco knew he had all of these things at home, he wanted Scorpius to feel as though it was his equipment and his work rather than second hand to his dad, and then to Madame Malkin's for his robes.
Leaving him getting fitted, Draco headed back out onto the cobbled street, nearly tripping while dodging a loose toad, and into Eeylops Owl Emporium to buy his son a going away present.
Returning ten minutes later with a large brown Eagle Owl in a cage in his arms, Draco poked his head round the corner of the robe shop, searching for Scorpius.
"Oh Mr Malfoy, Scorpius said he was going to find you, his robes will be ready in about 10 minutes, dear." Said the witch who had done Scorpius' fitting.
"Shit," Draco mumbled under his breath, "Thanks, I best go and find him. Be back in 10."
He took off back along the cobbles at quite a pace, his purposeful stare and posture causing the crowds of busy shoppers to part like the tides allowing him through. There was one place he was sure Scorpius would go, and it was the place he'd told him never to go to since he learnt what 'no' meant.
The moment he stepped over the threshold to Knockturn Alley, a chill ran up his spine. He was, quite literally, stepping back over to the darkside. But only to retrieve his mislead son.
Just being back in this place, among these people sent Draco's mind back to a dark place, his dark place, his dark past. He was thrown back to the days he would skulk around these parts, checking over his shoulder for any stalkers, scuttling around each corner, wand clenched tight in his hand under the sleeve of his robe, anxiety rattling around in his brain, trying to figure out how in the name of Salazar he was going to complete his mission.
Lost in these thoughts, his feet took him back to the place he had come to know so well. Borgin and Burkes. Screwing his courage to the sticking place, he lifted his chin, put on his Lucius Malfoy smirk and pushed the door open with such velocity that the bell on the other side almost fell off.
Ignoring the pandering from the shop's owner, Draco walked straight to his son, who was staring, intrigued by some dark artifact in a case, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him backwards, perhaps a little too forcefully causing the boy to nearly stumble over, turning them both and pushing him towards the door which was stuck open.
With Scorpius out of the door, Draco's hand still on his shoulder, he turned back to face the man behind the counter.
"What sort of establishment allows an eleven year old boy to browse dark and dangerous artifacts alone?!" Not waiting for a response, Draco left the shop, not letting go of his son's shoulder until they were back at Madame Malkin's collecting his robes.
"I had bought you this owl as a gift, Scorp. But I'm not too sure you deserve it anymore. You are grounded for the rest of this week and if you don't behave you won't be taking him with you to Hogwarts." Draco chastised his son once they were back in the safety of their tiny home on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow, the small wizarding village Draco himself had been dubious about moving to seeing as it was the birthplace of the saviour Harry Potter, but he'd had little choice; not wanting to stay in Malfoy Manor after the atrocities he'd been a bystander to during the war. This was supposed to be a place for new beginnings, to raise his son away from the clutches of his mother and away from the house they had shared with Astoria.
"Are you finished?" Scorpius quipped, after his dad had finished his rant.
"For now. Go take your new things upstairs, get your trunk ready and stay out of trouble. I'll call you for lunch in a bit." Draco said with a sigh, heading through the dining room to the kitchen at the back of the house. A cup of tea was what he needed right now. And someone to confide in about his parenting troubles.
Taking his tea through to the dining room table, Draco summoned some parchment and a quill and begun his letter. He only knew one person he could bare to talk to about his issues with Scorpius; It couldn't be his old Slytherin pals, they probably wouldn't understand the enormity of the problem and he certainly wasn't going to write to golden boy Potter about it, the insufferable hero. No it would have to be a certain bushy haired muggleborn, Hermione Granger.
Granger,
I know a letter from me must come out of the blue, but I have a problem that I feel I can only talk to you about for advice and help. The Ministry and my friends and Mother would not understand or just make it worse.
I am sorry to sound so cryptic but I don't think it wise to disclose this sort of information in a letter. Please respond with a date, time and location for where we might meet to discuss the matter, perhaps somewhere in muggle London where we won't be seen or overheard.
I must stress again that this is very important and is to do with my son, Scorpius. I do hope you respond but fully understand if you choose not to.
Yours sincerely,
Draco Malfoy.