The Secret Door

by thegoldensnitch102

Albus Severus has a secret – a gift he sees as a curse. People think he's mad, and his brother James is far from kind about it. But Albus' first visit to Malfoy Manor may present him with the opportunity to prove himself. He and his best friend set out to explore the manor and discover something neither of them expected

Story Title: The Secret Door

Theme: Half-blood prince. Write about someone's unappreciated skill.

Mandatory Prompt: [Character] Albus Severus Potter

Additional Prompt: [Word] Always

Word Count: 2949

A/N This story was co-written by the amazing x Hemlock x

⁂

Always was a long time. It was a truth that never ceased, an eternity wrapped into a more unassuming word. In essence, it was a big deal.

So when James jogged past him, asking, 'Are you always going to be such a loser?' Albus took it personally.

Packing twelve years worth of resentment into the throw, he hurled the ball at his brother's head. Or at least he tried to. His aim was off, and the ball landed uselessly in the wet grass. James laughed.

'Could you be any more shit at this game? It's called football. Foot-ball.'

There was another set of balls Albus would rather be kicking, but he controlled the urge. Mum tended to do chores on this side of the house when she knew Albus and James were out here together. James probably hadn't noticed because he was an unobservant troll.

'Why are we even playing this game?' Albus asked. 'It sucks.'

'You suck. We could be playing Quidditch, but you still can't fly a broom.'

Albus kicked a tuft of grass. Of course James would bring that up. It was bad enough that Albus had spent the whole school year being asked if he was sure he was Harry Youngest-Seeker-in-Fifty-Years and Ginny Captain-of-the-Holyhead-Harpies Potter's son.

James kicked up the football and twirled it between his hands. 'What was the excuse you gave Madam Hooch? That the broom was talking to you?'

He had said that the broom was telling him things. There were plenty of ways to communicate without using words, but no one at Hogwarts saw it that way. All it took was one flying lesson for everyone to know him as the loony kid who thought he could speak to broomsticks.

'Yeah, well, Quidditch sucks too,' he said, speaking quietly so that Mum wouldn't hear.

He glanced at the shed where the family brooms rested in weather-proof boxes.

James had complained the most when Mum suggested keeping them out of the house. His rant lasted an hour and only ended when he called Mum a psycho. He was still grounded for that, which was the only reason he had dragged Albus out here to play. He was bored out of his tiny, stupid mind.

Albus glared at the shed.

He shouldn't have tried explaining himself to Madam Hooch. He should have known that she would contact his parents and that they would overreact. Now, they and everyone else thought he was hopeless and crazy. He had to be careful of everything he did, knowing he was one wrong move away from a trip to St Mungo's.

The ball bounced against the side of his head hard enough to make him stumble. Glaring at James, he pressed his hand against the dull throb starting up in his temple.

'Not having another episode, are you?' James asked with a wicked grin.

Albus clenched his jaw, tried to think of a retort, couldn't, and stomped off. It was either that or cry.

'Where are you going?' James called after him.

'To get ready to go to Scorpius'.' He turned and walked backwards towards the house so that he could see James' face while he gloated. 'Because I'm not the loser who's housebound for the next month.'

James drew his foot back and kicked the ball with all the rage of a hornet going in for the kill. Albus dodged and sprinted to his room. He locked the door behind him and thumped his head against the wood.

⁂

With one last glower for James, Albus took hold of his dad's arm, preparing himself for the unpleasant sensation of Side-Along-Apparation.

'Try not to puke this time!' James said before the blackness descended as Albus was whisked through space.

His insides twisted and turned until the sensation abruptly stopped and he was standing on solid ground once more.

'Deep breath, son,' said Dad. Albus bent over and did just that, thankful that his breakfast had stayed put.

When he straightened, he gulped.

Tall gates guarded the Malfoy ancestral home. The iron twisted into spikes and stems, winding into an ornate M that held the gates together. He knew Scorpius was rich, but this felt like visiting the Queen. Albus was very glad he had worn his smartest robes.

He glanced over to see his dad's eyes darken with concern.

'I know you've not had the easiest time of it,' said Dad.

Albus stared at his feet. At the start of the summer, he had overheard his parents arguing about his 'unique ability'. Dad wanted to question him further over the broom incident, but his mum put her foot down, insisting they wait until he was ready to talk about it.

Albus shifted his weight, worried his dad was going to go into all that now.

'I just want you to know that I'm here if you ever want to talk,' said Dad.

Albus forced a smile onto his face.

'Even if you feel you can't talk to me and your mum, it's important you talk to someone.'

Eh oh. Did his dad mean a counsellor? It was one of his Aunt Hermione's many projects – having trained counsellors in the wizarding world. When she'd told them about it, James had made the cuckoo sign behind her head and wiggled his eyebrows at Albus.

Albus looked at his shoes again.

'Anyway, something to think about,' said Dad.

The gates swung open, much to Albus' relief.

As they walked up the long drive, Albus tried to shake off the awkward conversation. Excitement started to build as he focused instead on the fact he was about to hang out with his best friend.

The front door opened before they could knock, and Scorpius stood there grinning.

'Took you forever to get up the drive,' said Scorpius. 'I was worried one of the peacocks had got you!'

'You have peacocks?'

'Don't you?' said Scorpius with a grin. And just like that, the knot in Albus's stomach loosened.

A shadow fell over them.

Albus looked up. So this was the infamous Draco Malfoy. He looked so like Scorpius, except for his steel-like eyes and the fixed, weary expression on his face.

'Potter,' said Mr Malfoy.

His dad stiffened beside him. 'Malfoy.'

'I assume this is simply a drop-off?' Mr Malfoy said with a sneer.

His dad's smile didn't reach his eyes. 'Yep.' He turned to Albus. 'I'll be back at four, but call me if you want me to come sooner.' This was said with a pointed glance at Mr Malfoy.

'Dad, I'll be fine. Just go already.' Albus couldn't help bouncing on his feet as he watched his dad start the long walk back down the drive.

Turning round, he saw Scorpius had a barely restrained expression of glee on his face. From Scoripus' letters, Albus knew that despite the Malfoys' massive library, his friend had been bored out of his mind. If today went well, hopefully it would mean the start of many more afternoons of fun together!

'Thank you for having me over, Mr Malfoy.'

There was a pause, and Scorpius nudged his dad. 'You're welcome,' he bit out. 'Scorpius, I will be in my study and am not to be disturbed.'

'Yes, sir.'

With a final glance at Albus, Mr Malfoy left them alone.

'I can't wait to show you everything,' Scorpius said. 'Did you know Malfoy Manor is one of the oldest wizarding houses in Britain?'

Albus laughed. 'Rose would love that!'

'Wish she was here,' said Scorpius with a mournful sigh.

Albus shoved him. 'That's my cousin! I wish you'd get over your creepy obsession.'

Scorpius gave him a wounded look and put his hand over his heart. 'It's not creepy. It's destiny! Just you wait, my friend. I'll show you everything, and then you can tell her all about it and make her really jealous and decide to be my friend, just so she can see the wonders of my house.'

'You're delusional, mate,' said Albus as Scorpius ushered him inside.

Scorpius gave him a thorough tour of Malfoy Manor, but Albus found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. The candlesticks on the fireplace seemed to whisper to him, the Malfoy tapestry glowed bright blue, and he could have sworn he saw Latin words appear when they passed a statue of a knight in armour.

Talk to someone.

His dad's words rang through his head.

'I'vegotsomethingtotellyou.'

He interrupted Scorpius' enthusiastic explanation of how the quill in the glass case had been used by Ingolfr the Iambic to write his famous Quidditch poetry.

Scorpius stopped walking. He tilted his head to one side and stood there waiting patiently. Albus couldn't help but smile.

'You know the way I, eh, had the incident with the brooms?'

Scorpius nodded.

'Well, it's not just brooms I can hear.'

'Huh,' said Scorpius. He adopted what Albus called his Thinking Face. 'Like what else?'

Albus closed his eyes. This was it. 'It's a lot else, really. It's like I can sense magic on things.'

For half a second, his friend frowned. Albus felt his heart stop. Until…

'Woah! That's so cool,' said Scorpius, grabbing Albus' arm. His friend's eyes were alight with that gleam reserved for when there was new knowledge to be discovered.

'Yeah?' said Albus.

'Think of all the things we can discover when we get back to Hogwarts!' He put his hand out. 'Wait. Has magic been talking to you here?'

Albus nodded. Scorpius let out a squeal of excitement, and Albus laughed.

'Don't ever tell Rose I did that!' said Scorpius.

'Your secret's safe with me, mate.'

Scorpius' face took on a serious expression. 'Yours too. Although I don't know why you'd want to keep something so awesome to yourself.'

Albus shrugged. He felt lighter already having told his best friend.

'Ok, we're starting the whole tour again!' said Scorpius. 'But this time you have to tell me when your gift is kicking in!'

They did that, and Albus found he started to enjoy sensing magic, Scorpius' enthusiasm catching him like a wave.

When Scorpius led the way into the east wing, Albus came to a halt.

'What's through there?' he asked, pointing to a door on the left.

'Oh that,' said Scorpius with a laugh. 'That's actually not a door at all. Can you believe it? My ancestors were so concerned with appearances they had that put in just so the foyer would be symmetrical.'

Albus' heart raced. The magic pulsing off the door was insane. Shivers ran down his spine.

'Scorpius, I don't think it's a fake door.'

'Ooooo.' His friend ran to the door, turned the handle, and gave it a shake. 'How do you think we open it?'

Albus placed his palm on the door. His fingers tingled. An image came to his head – of a man with white-blond hair cutting his finger and drawing an M on the door with blood.

Shaking slightly, he explained what he'd seen to Scorpius, whose face took on a determined expression Albus knew only too well.

Scorpius lifted a ceremonial dagger off the wall and used its sharp point to prick his finger. 'In the name of science!' he said and carefully drew an M on the door.

They both took a step back. There was a click, and the door swung open.

⁂

Albus stopped being afraid of the dark when he was seven years old and realised that it made for a good place to hide from his brother's teasing. He often sought the darker corners of a room and wandered at night without distress.

So when the door opened onto a darkness so complete that he thought his eyes had stopped working, he didn't recoil.

Scorpius darted over to the nearest cabinet and drew a Muggle flashlight from the bottom drawer. He flicked the switch, and a beam of light swept over the corridor and through the secret door, shining on a narrow wooden staircase.

Grinning like an adventurer discovering his first tomb, he jumped onto the first step. 'Come on.'

'Why didn't you tell anyone about your gift?' Scorpius asked, following him up.

Albus shrugged. 'I didn't want to be more of a freak than I already am.'

'You're not a freak.'

The torchlight bounced off a door up ahead. He had only a few steps left until he reached it. Scorpius' cold fingers wrapped around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

'You're not a freak.'

Albus looked down at their dust-covered shoes. 'I kind of am, though, aren't I? Even if you forget that I got sorted into Slytherin, I've still got this weird ability that no one's ever heard of.'

'Being a Slytherin doesn't make you a freak.'

'It does in my family.'

'Then maybe your family's the problem.'

Albus snapped his gaze up, but Scorpius didn't look away. Instead, he kept talking.

'No one had heard of Parselmouths before Herpo the Foul or Seers before Calchas. Maybe you're the first person with this ability. Maybe not. Either way, you're not a freak.' He raised his chin and puffed out his chest. 'And if you ever again say that you are, I'll get very cross.'

Albus bit back a smile. He wasn't sure Scorpius could get angry, but it got the point across. 'All right, mate. I'll stop.'

'Good. Now let's find out what secrets my ancestors hid.'

He led the way up the last few steps.

Albus heard the steadying breath Scorpius exhaled, heard the click of a door handle turning, and heard his best friend whisper in awe, 'No way.'

⁂

'Where the hell is my son, Malfoy?' Harry snarled, stomping through Malfoy Manor. He checked inside every room and behind every useless vase and suit of armour, but there was no sign of Albus.

'For the last time, I don't know.' Malfoy walked just as quickly, his narrowed eyes scanning every inch of space that Harry missed.

Harry tried to remind himself that Scorpius was missing too, but his racing heart wasn't making it easy. He had known that this playdate was a bad idea.

Malfoy stopped in the middle of the corridor, and Harry bumped into him. He prepared to shout an insult but saw the look on the man's face.

'What is it?'

'That door shouldn't be open.'

It looked like an ordinary door, albeit one that opened into a very dark room. A cold wind seemed to whistle through it.

He pulled his wand from his robes. 'Why not?'

'Because it isn't a door.'

Malfoy strode forwards. Harry lit the tip of his wand and followed. At the top of a long staircase was another door. Malfoy pushed it open.

Light fell over the man's face, and his mouth fell open. Harry raced up the last few steps, fearing the worst, but he too stopped dead to take in the sight before him.

The light from his wand glinted off a room filled with gold.

Goblets, coins, and jewels covered every surface. Muggle masterpieces decorated the walls inside gilt frames. Harry could see at least three thrones among the chests and tapestries. It was a treasure trove, and in the middle of it all sat Albus and Scorpius.

They were decked out like wealthy pirate kings. Crowns rested atop their heads, and fat rings decorated their fingers.

'Father!' Scorpius shouted, his grin as bright as everything else in this room. 'Look what Albus and I found.'

Harry held on to the doorframe and closed his eyes. Relief made anger impossible. He would chastise Albus for disappearing later. Right now, he was only glad that nothing had happened to his boy.

Malfoy couldn't stop staring around the room. 'There were always rumours . . .'

'Rumours?' Harry asked. He had a sneaking suspicion that those paintings on the walls weren't fakes.

'That when the Statute of Secrecy was instituted, my great-great-great-grandfather hid all the things that tied him to the Muggle world instead of destroying them.'

Scorpius pointed at a painting of a blonde Malfoy-looking woman. 'Albus says that one was painted by Leonardo da Vinci.'

Harry looked at his son. Albus had yet to look away from his lap. 'Albus? What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' he muttered.

Scorpius nudged Albus with his shoulder, and Albus shrugged. Scorpius turned to Harry. 'Albus is the one who discovered the door. He sensed the magic on it because of his gift.'

'His gift?' Malfoy repeated.

Harry didn't need to ask. He remembered his trip to Headmistress McGonagall's office, remembered what Madam Hooch had said and how Albus' gaze had flicked from one magical object to the next, a frown deepening on his forehead each time. Harry had thought it was stress.

He walked into the room, careful not to step on anything, and crouched in front of his son.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

Albus didn't raise his head. 'You wouldn't have believed me.'

Harry was all too familiar with people not believing him. The feeling had haunted his teenage years. He put a finger under Albus' chin. 'I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that.'

A smile ghosted over Albus' mouth. 'It's all right, Dad.'

It wasn't. An apology wouldn't be enough, but Harry could work on fixing things. 'How about when we get home, you and I have a talk about this special gift of yours?'

'Can you send James to his room first?'

Harry smiled. 'Deal.'

He held out his hand, and Albus shook it. 'Deal.'

⁂

Scorpius was grinning from ear to ear. Albus couldn't stop the answering smile from blossoming on his face.

He had done it; he had proved himself. All it took was one person trusting him.

'Thanks for believing in me, mate.'

Scorpius' grin grew. 'Always!'