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Lucius Malfoy couldn't help smiling as he held the squirming infant in his arms. He had a son. He finally had an heir who would carry on the proud name of Malfoy. His son would have a son, who would have his own son. The Malfoy family would endure.
"You have had him long enough, Lucius," Narcissa said seriously, although he thought he could detect a tone of teasing in her voice. He handed Draco back to her, who began nursing him.
As he gazed down on his family, he felt a presence behind him. He wondered who would dare interrupt this moment. Furiously, he turned around and saw a Healer standing behind him. "Narcissa is doing well, so what do you want?"
The Healer shook with fear. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but there's someone who wants to speak with you."
Lucius wondered who it was. The Dark Lord knew of Narcissa's pregnancy, but he wouldn't use a mere Healer to send for him. "Who is it?"
"Another patient on another ward."
Lucius sneered. "And why would I want to waste my time speaking with someone whose brain was damaged by magic?"
"He claims to be a relative of yours and he says he needs to speak with you. He also told you to send for Dobby," the Healer replied.
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Then he's a liar. My parents are dead, and only a few people know of my house-elf."
"He also knows when your son was going to be born. He gave us the specific time and date of young Draco's birth."
"Now that is impossible. Very well, I shall speak with him, but if you're wasting my time…" Lucius let the threat hang in the air. He had some allies in the Ministry who would shut funding for St. Mungo's, and there was always the threat of Death Eater retaliation.
The Healer gulped. "If you'll follow me, sir."
Lucius turned to Narcissa. "I'll return in a few minutes."
"Draco and I will be okay," Narcissa assured him.
Lucius followed the Healer out of the room, finally stopping in front of a bed in a different ward. An elderly man was in the bed, apparently sleeping at the moment. Lucius couldn't believe his eyes. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but the man looked like a Malfoy. But how was that possible? Abraxas had died while Lucius was still in school, and Athena passed away before then.
The man opened his eyes and smiled. "I see you got my message."
"I'm Lucius Malfoy," Lucius said, refusing to extend his hand. "I hear you claim you're related to me?"
The man chuckled. "You think I'm either lying or crazy. I can prove it to you. Summon Dobby."
Lucius still didn't know how the man knew about Dobby, but he was willing to play along for now. "Dobby!"
There was a loud pop! A young house-elf trembled with fear as he looked up at his master. "Did Master send for Dobby?"
Before Lucius could answer, the patient interrupted. "Dobby, you serve the Malfoys, correct?"
Dobby faced the man. "Yes, sir."
"And you have to obey any member of the Malfoy family, regardless of when or where they came from, right?"
Dobby nodded.
"Good. Get me a cup of water," the man ordered him.
Lucius expected Dobby to refuse. To his surprise, Dobby bowed low and Disapparated. He returned a minute later with a cup of water and handed it to the man. "Thank you, Dobby. Does that satisfy any objections?"
"I admit it does. Dobby, return to Malfoy Manor." Dobby bowed low and Disapparated again. Lucius turned to the man. "Okay, that proves you're a member of my family, but I don't understand how."
The man chuckled. "Then I'll try to explain, Grandfather."
"Grandfather?"
"Scorpius Draco Malfoy at your service. I'm here to give you a warning about the East Wing of Malfoy Manor. Warn your son, er, my father when he's old enough," Scorpius said.
"I'm listening."
* * * * * *
Scorpius thought rule-breaking must run in the Potter blood. Everyone thought that James Potter was the worst rule breaker, but then again, they didn't know his younger brother Albus that well at all. Even innocent looking Lily Potter could be a mischief-maker if she wanted to.
That was how Scorpius found himself looking for his best friend. For some reason, Al wanted to play hide-and-seek. Scorpius's parents allowed that, but his father warned him, "Stay out of the locked door on the East Wing." It's a warning that Scorpius had heard before. He heard it from his father, who had heard it from Grandfather Lucius. Scorpius assumed that even Great-grandfather Abraxas had a hand in that warning.
Nevertheless, Scorpius nodded. He was never one to disobey his father, at least when it came to the house. For generations, the Malfoy family had collections of dark artifacts. While Scorpius's father had gotten rid of most of them, Scorpius knew there were still some items that were kept from Aurors and other Ministry busybodies.
Albus, however, pretended to obey. Scorpius knew Al could get away with disobeying the elder Malfoy because Mr. Potter wouldn't like it if anyone but Al's parents disciplined him. Yet, Scorpius could see the mischievous twinkle in his friend's eye.
"Why don't you count first, Scorpius?" Al asked. "I think I can find a decent place to hide."
"Al, you heard Father. Tell me you won't try to hide in that room," Scorpius warned.
Al smirked. "Don't worry. I'll tell you I won't try to hide there."
Scorpius glared at him, causing the smirk to fade. He couldn't prove his friend was going to try to break into that room, but he didn't doubt Al's intentions. He resigned himself to the worst. "Fine. I'll start counting. One, two, three…"
As he counted, he heard Al running away and heard a door slam in the distance. He only hoped that wasn't the forbidden room. "...eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Ready or not, here I come."
He checked the ground floor first, although he was sure none of the doors there had been closed. He hoped Al hadn't tried to get into the forbidden room. As he checked each ground room floor, he concluded Al was hiding upstairs.
He took a few minutes checking each room, even his parents' room, but Al wasn't hiding in any of them. Finally, he came to the forbidden room. If his father caught him in there, he would have trouble walking for a week. He put his hand on the knob and pushed. Nothing happened. He tried turning the knob again, but the door wouldn't open. It was clearly locked.
Scorpius was puzzled. Maybe Al had gone from room to room while Scorpius was looking for him. He snorted. That was such a Potter thing to do. But that was the only explanation for him not finding Al anywhere.
"All right, Al, I give up. You can come out of hiding now," he called. He was only met with silence. "Al? Okay, this is very funny, but you can drop your joke now. You win."
There was still no answer. Maybe Scorpius had heard wrong. Maybe Al hadn't opened any of the doors upstairs. After all, he only heard a door open and slam in the distance. Maybe he was in the cellar, or worse, the dungeon? But Scorpius didn't know how Al would get into the dungeon. It was still a place to check.
He hurried downstairs, flying past his mother who was having tea with Aunt Daphne. He barely heard her scolding. He checked the cellar quickly, but it was clearly empty. That meant Al had to be in the dungeon. He arrived at the dungeon door and pulled on the handle. It was locked. Scorpius frowned. There was no way he could be there.
Scorpius then remembered that the dungeon was no longer used as a jail because the door was locked from the inside, instead of the outside. That was why the cellar was used as a jail since then. He drew his wand, hoping his father could get him out of trouble with the Ministry, and muttered, "Alohamora." The lock clicked, the door opened and he walked inside.
The dungeon was dark, darker than even the cellar. "Lumos." That helped brighten the room slightly, but it was still too dark for a thorough search. Al could be hiding in any of the shadows. As he walked through the dungeon, he heard the sound of breaking glass. He backed up and pointed his wand at the floor. There were shards of glass. He frowned. What was that? Was it a mirror? He knew it couldn't have been a window. Then something caught his eye.
Scorpius looked up and saw something chained to the wall. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. It looked like a skeleton with some faded clothing. He knew that should not have been possible, but maybe the magic slowed the clothing's decay. He moved closer despite the sight and smell. What poor git had gotten himself on the wrong side of his Malfoy ancestors?
He stopped and frowned. That shirt. There was something familiar about that shirt. It was almost like the one Al wore. His eyes widened. The one Al wore. That's impossible. This had to be a sick joke. Then he remembered the shards of glass. Al wore glasses, like his father.
"MOTHER!" Scorpius screamed.
Days later, Scorpius sat in his bedroom, alone. He had refused to leave it since discovering the awful truth. The skeleton in the dungeon had been the remains of his best friend, Al. The Unspeakables from the Ministry had confirmed it, detecting large quantities of quantum magic. The Malfoy house-elf would pop into his room every couple of hours, but other than that, Scorpius had refused to see anyone.
How could Al be dead? How could he have died so long ago in the past? What had happened to his best friend? He knew what Mr. Weasley thought. Rose's father had used this as an excuse to go after the Malfoys. Even Mr. Potter, who had been decent to the family, hated them, even worse than when he had gone to school with Scorpius's father.
No one actually blamed Scorpius, but the Malfoy family was getting the blame nonetheless. Scorpius wiped the tear from his eye. He knew the history of the Malfoy dungeon. If anyone was locked in there, the best they could hope for was death by the Killing Curse. He had heard stories about his great-aunt Bellatrix torturing Mrs. Weasley, but even that was mild compared to the inhabitants of the dungeon.
Scorpius wiped another tear from his eye and his face hardened. He was determined to find out what happened to Al. If that meant defying his father and breaking into the forbidden room, so be it.
He had to wait until his parents were asleep. He didn't know if his father suspected the forbidden room had been entered or not, but Scorpius would have to check for more security. He heard the chimes indicating midnight and figured it was late enough. As slowly and quietly as possible, he slipped out of his room.
As he neared the room, he became more cautious since his parents' bedroom was close to it. He stopped at their door and listened. He could hear the snores of his father. He assumed his mother was asleep. He drew his wand and moved past the bedroom.
Scorpius tried opening the door, but it was locked. If Al had somehow slipped into this room, he didn't know how the door locked itself again. And how did Al travel all the way to the past? Not even a Time Turner could send a user that far back in time.
He pointed his wand at the door and unlocked it. It opened without a sound and he slipped inside. "Lumos," he whispered and the room was lit up. He looked around, but didn't see anything dangerous. The light soon rested on a statue. He was puzzled. The statue was the only thing in the room. Why would a statue be in the forbidden room?
Scorpius decided to investigate. It was a weeping angel, with its hands covering its eyes as though it was sobbing. This was a strange thing to have in the room, especially since it was the only thing in the room. He walked around it, examining it closely. He poked it with his wand and ran his fingers down its hard surface.
"What are you doing in this room?" he asked. Obviously, he didn't expect a response. He couldn't see how this or the room sent his friend to the past. He continued walking around it, trying to figure out the answer to this puzzle.
As he continued examining the statue, he heard a noise. He turned and saw the door closing. "No!" He ran to it, but it was too late: the door was closed and locked. He pulled on the door as hard as he could, but it wouldn't open. He tried unlocking it again, but it wouldn't budge.
"Great, just great," Scorpius muttered. "How am I supposed to get out of here?"
He lit his wand again and turned around. What he saw scared him, almost making him jump out of his skin. The angel was no longer weeping. It had uncovered its face and was now pointing at him.
"What in the…?"
Scorpius didn't know how it had done that. One minute, its face was covered; the next, it was staring at him, pointing at him in an accusatory manner. "Okay, this is real cute. You can take off that costume now and let me out," he told the statue. But it didn't move. In fact, it didn't show any signs of movement.
He blinked and yelled. The statue was now even closer and both of its hands were up. Unlike before, they weren't human hands, but claws. The angel's pleasant-looking face had transformed into a snarl, baring vampire-like fangs.
Scorpius couldn't breathe. He had to find a way out. Somehow, the statue was able to move if he didn't look at it. If he even blinked, it would move. Keeping his eyes on it, he backed up and around the room. He felt his back hit the window and he tried unlocking it, keeping both eyes on the statue. But he couldn't unlock the window. His fingers kept fumbling with the latch.
He was sweating now. He couldn't afford to look away or blink, yet he couldn't unlock the window without turning away. As far as he knew, there weren't any other doors in the room, so the window was the only way out. He knew it would be a major drop to the ground, but broken bones might be preferable to whatever this creature could do.
Scorpius felt his eyes tiring. They wanted to blink, but he mustn't let them. He was farther away from the statue, but he didn't know how fast it could travel. Would it touch him the next time he blinked? He didn't want to take that chance.
He tried unlocking the window again, but his fingers continued missing the latch. He was sweating heavily now, and struggling not to blink. He couldn't hold back the inevitable blink any longer. He blinked.
The monster was now right in front of him, and that's what it was: a monster. It's claws grazed his jumper. He felt pinned against the window with its arms trapping him. If he wanted to escape, he would have to duck, but would that force him to take his eyes off of it?
Scorpius didn't have a choice. He would have to duck beneath the statue's arms if he wanted to escape. He ducked and tried moving away from the statue. He stumbled and now faced the floor. He was terrified now, and the terror increased when he felt sharp claws penetrate his skin. He screamed and the room started spinning.
He felt nauseated, but no longer felt the creature's claws on him. He opened his eyes and screamed in terror. The creature was staring back at him, its eyes glowing as red as blood. It opened its mouth and the fangs lengthened. He tried fighting the vertigo, but the room kept spinning and spinning and spinning.
A bright light flashed and he was falling. He didn't know where he was, only that he was about to be grievously injured once he hit the ground. He didn't dare open his eyes. He kept falling and falling and falling.
Scorpius finally hit the ground. He groaned as his body hurt all over. He finally opened his eyes. To his surprise, he was outside. While he wasn't sure where he was, he guessed he wasn't anywhere near Wiltshire. "Where am I?"
"You're near Nottingham, young sir," a voice called out.
He looked up and saw a man on a bicycle. "Are you alright, young man?" he asked again.
"When am I?"
The man looked surprised. "1933."
Scorpius stared at him, but before he could say anything else, the man rode away.
1933. That thing had dumped him in the past. That's what had happened to Al. Maybe there was another way home. If there was, Scorpius would find it. He stood up, brushed the dirt off of his clothes and started walking.
* * * * * *
Lucius couldn't believe what he was hearing. "And you're my grandson who somehow ended up in 1933? It's taken you this long to return to the present?"
Scorpius rolled his eyes. He tried to sit up, but was hit with a coughing spell as he did so. He took a sip from his water. "I guess you haven't listened. I haven't returned to my present because I'm still in the past. I won't make it back home."
"What do you want me to do?"
Scorpius felt himself growing weaker and weaker with each passing moment. Somehow, his magic and life force was being drained from him. "Warn my father. Warn Draco. Tell him to tell me not to enter that room. Tell him not to enter that room. Beware the Wee…"
"Scorpius?" Lucius asked, but Scorpius had closed his eyes. Lucius touched his grandson's chest, but didn't feel it rise or fall. There wasn't any breath in him. "Scorpius?" he asked again, but it was a waste of time. Scorpius, the man who claimed to be his grandson, was dead.
Lucius widened his eyes as he saw the man's skin begin crumbling. It was like the man before him was wasting away until there was only a skeleton left. Troubled, Lucius left the room and returned to his wife and son, determined to protect them at any cost.
The End