(A/N -First of all, this is a little bit filler, a little bit introduction, and a little bit characterization. I swear in the next chapter I will introduce the action the plot will center around yes, there will be a plot. Bear with me here. Secondly, I don't think Draco's really abusive or all that cruel, I think he's really screwed up and as I said a little it crazy. He made a mistake, and Scorpius certainly isn't going to let him atone for it, so the screwed up and crazy will only get worse.

A million thanks to Potions For Foxes, my lone reviewer who made my day and motivated me to finish this chapter. I tell you, reviews make my life, in a way that's slightly pathetic. Take a minute to make a poor girl's day.

Finally, as if I had to tell you, I don't own it. Any of it, really. It's all JK)

At the age of fifteen, Albus Potter was finally fulfilling a childhood dream and joining his father on one of the raids which were a part of Harry's duties as an Auror. Ever since Albus decided he might like to follow that very career himself, he'd used the aspiration to wheedle, cajole and generally coerce Harry into today's adventure.

Said adventure consisted of checking Malfoy Manor and its inhabitants for dark objects, action or plotting. It was a routine check, taking place only due to the sheer number of ex-Death Eaters visiting it regularly. Harry didn't expect any trouble on this visit, so he chose it as the perfect day to bring along his youngest son.

The lack of trouble, however, was slightly troubling for that younger son in and of itself. He found himself extremely disappointed by Draco and Harry's civil greetings at the door, and the businesslike manner in which Harry designated Albus to check the ground floor while he, Harry, went off the explore the basement, with its twisty passages and rumored dungeons.

Albus put up with being shunted into busywork for all of the three and a half minutes it took to convince himself that his father was safely entrenched in the mysterious bowels of the lower levels of the house, before he bolted up all four flights of stairs, straight for the attic.

His new, self appointed assignment of roaming through dusty, maze-like passages, over creaky and splintering floors, so greatly appealed to his sense of adventure that it took nearly an hour and a half of wandering, keeping a desultory eye out for nefarious activity before Albus realized he was completely and entirely lost.

The realization didn't manage to change his manner of wandering, except that now his eyes roamed with more purpose, searching for a downward staircase or familiar landmark. At last Albus came to a door that he thought he recognized as the entrance to the staircase.

Heaving a sigh of relief he opened the door and stepped through, only to find- not an ornate but mildewed staircase but an odd, round, window encrusted room filled with ancient books, tarnished silver, and an old trunk with clothes piled and draped in, on and around it.

Perhaps the most astonishing, however, was the room's centerpiece. Albus didn't know quite what to make of the sagging, wrought-iron bed containing the pale, sprawled body of a boy his own age with a jumble of long, wiry limbs.

The boy's almost colorlessly pale hair and near-translucent, pointed features were illuminated by the faded ray of winter afternoon sun, but the eyes, underscored by shadowy dark half moons, were closed and motionless.

Albus cleared his throat, drawing himself out of his own reverie and the boy out of sleep as grey eyes flew open with an almost supernatural speed, instantly wary.

Albus introduced himself as being a member of the team inspecting the house from the Ministry of Magic's Auror office, and the boy seemed to relax slightly, sitting up and commenting in a voice almost soft enough that the dry cynicism could be missed by the unsuspecting.

"Taking them younger and younger these days, aren't they? The world really must be ending."

Albus blushed and amended his identification, admitting that he'd come along with his father for the day and introducing himself as, "Albus, Al Potter," and offering a hand to shake. The boy ignored the hand, but his expression lost some of its tension, and he replied, "Scorpius,"

"What?"

"My name. It's Scorpius."

"Oh, I-"

"Unfortunate, isn't it?"

The final comment startled a laugh out of Albus, but he replied, after a little thought, "No, it's not so bad. I could come to like it."

Scorpius, however, ignored this comment as easily as he had the previously proffered hand, and changed the subject completely, saying, "So you're here as an inspector, then. Are you going to inspect? Not much here, just books, though I suppose some of them may not be to the Ministry's liking."

"No, no I'm sure your stuff's fine-" Al babbled, flustered at the thought of having to search an actual human being, who seemed to be a decent fellow, but Scorpius cut in in a manner that was slightly anagonistic and slightly amused,

"Why are you so sure? Because I'm a minor, or till at school? Anyhow, if I was a man plotting diabolical things, my father, for instance, I would certainly use my son's youth and relative innocence as a shield. For that matter," and here he began to sound somewhat thoughtful, "Didn't Voldemort start plotting when he was in school? For all you know," for the first time, he smiled, a surprisingly sweet, charming smile, "I could be the next Dark Lord, recruiting followers and planning domination in this very room."

Finally Albus thought of something to say to this odd boy.

"They must be very devoted, your followers, If they're willing to climb up this many stairs just to be recruited."

"I suppose so. But then, I do have a rather compelling personality."

At Al's slightly thoughtful, slightly puzzled expression, the ease of their banter evaporated, replaced by Scorpius's nervousness as he nearly stuttered, "I was joking of course. I'm harmless, I swear."

If Albus had really known Scorpius at this point, he would have known that the painfully direct gaze, the way the wide eyes never seemed to blink, was a sign of Scorpius's discomfort, his nervousness in dealing with a stranger. As it was, he was simply unnerved, but that didn't change the fact that he was lost in a labyrinth he might never escape without help, so changing the topic with as little transition as Scorpius had, he asked, "Do you think you could maybe, uh, you know, point me in the direction of downstairs?"

Scorpius only nodded and grabbed a grubby robe to throw on as he climbed out of bed before striding out the door, Albus in his wake. He made a few odd turns, walking through doors Albus might never have noticed , before coming to a small, twisting stair Albus certainly hadn't come up. Scorpius's parting words were directions to the sitting room. Albus strode off without a thought, but a few seconds later when he thought to turn around an say thank you or goodbye, Scorpius had already vanished soundlessly.

ASASASASASASASASAS

Albus went back to school after the Christmas holidays with no real expertise as an Auror. Nor did he suddenly strike up a friendship with the Malfoy boy, though he noticed him in he hallways more often than before, or buried in the library.

They had no classes together, however, and Scorpius never seemed open to conversation, while Albus would have been hard-pressed to bother either.

Over the course of Albus's fairly uneventful fifth year, that odd day at Malfoy Manor faded to the back of his mind.

TBC….

Please R&R!!

Also, my apologies for any typos. If you mention them I will fix them, but as it is, it's one in the morning, and it'll be remarkable if I actually even get it posted as is.