Prologue

The memories of his first year at Hogwarts came swarming when Draco Malfoy and his son got onto platform nine and three quarters. He remembered when he first met Crabbe and Goyle, when he saw the red-headed Weasley's with their secondhand clothing and books, but it wasn't until Draco and his son Scorpius sat down on a bench, and he put his heavy suitcase on the ground next to him, that he remembered the first time he saw Hermione Granger. It was that same bench that he and his father Lucius sat on when she walked by with her bushy brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. She had glanced at Draco, and he was entranced by her deep, brown eyes. He thought she was a very beautiful young wizard, despite her awkward hair and enlarged teeth.

"Snap out of it, boy" his father said brusquely. "She is a filthy little mud-blood. You cannot associate yourself with someone like that." He could still feel the sting of his father's words coursing through his ears like venom from a basilisk bite. He took a nervous glance towards his leather bound suitcase on the ground, it's silvery henges glistened in the light from the canopy above them.

Draco looked down at his son sitting next to him, who was a spitting image of himself. He had the same ice, gray eyes, blonde hair, and pointy face of a Malfoy. Scorpius was looking around the platform, watching the casual bustle of students and their families rolling in.

"Are you excited?" Draco asked sincerely.

"I am", Scorpius replied. He turned to look at his father, and Draco could sense an undertone of fear in his eyes.

"What is it, son?"

"I'm just kind of worried. What if I don't get into Syltherin?" Scorpius pondered.

Draco smiled softly. "You will. Malfoys belong to Syltherin. But whatever house you get sorted into will have gained a great wizard either way."

Scorpius smiled a smile of reassurance.

They had shown up to the platform early. Draco had spent the summer teaching his son how to be punctual and on time, and more importantly, how to be early. He wasn't going to let the offspring of the Weasley's and Potter's outshine his son. He made sure Scorpius knew spells, knew how to fly brooms and how to make potions efficiently. After realizing how well he taught his son, he applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts, and as reluctant as Minerva McGonagall was to accept him, he made promises he no longer had ties to the lifestyle he had before. The Dark Mark that was branded on his left forearm was still there, but for the last 19 years, it had only been a faded symbol.

Scorpius pulled out a rolled copy of The Daily Prophet from his trolly and unrolled it over his legs to read before the Hogwarts Express came hissing up to the platform. Just as Scorpius flipped past the front page, the title of the article caught Draco's eye.

"Minister of Magic, Hermione Granger-Weasley missing, presumed dead"

There was a sudden feeling of fear and terror rising out of the depths of Draco's stomach. Underneath the article title, was a moving photograph of Ron Weasley with their kids scrambling around their home in terror. Their home, Draco noticed, seemed all too familiar to him.

"Give me that!" Draco hissed and snatched the paper out of his sons' hands. He read the article quickly, skimming the words really, to find if there was a suspect. The Ministry of Magic had been questioning Ron Weasley but made no arrests. It had appeared to everyone that Hermione had just vanished. There were no leads or any evidence of a struggle. There was no indication of Hermione's whereabouts. Draco let out a sigh of relief.

"Filthy mud-blood got what she deserved", Lucius's voice came into his mind. Draco handed the paper back to his son slowly and looked down at the suitcase by his feet. He felt the Dark Mark on his forearm heat up underneath the sleeve of his cloak. Memories of their years at Hogwarts swirled through Draco's frontal vision: when Hermione claimed he had no Quidditch talent, when she punched him in the nose, being turned into a ferret, when he was unable to kill Dumbledore and was disgraced throughout his family. All the embarrassment and ridicule boiled inside him.

"Yes," Draco thought menacingly, still staring at his suitcase. "She did."