Fic: Home Alone
This one has gotten a lot longer than I intended it to be but I am really happy now that I finished it. It's part of the same universe that my first one was and I have lots of plot bunnys running amok in my head begging to be written down. Good thing I am spending a few days away from home, hopefully that'll give me time wo write lots more.
I'll try to fit in the prompts but as I am without internet for the next few days I don't know if they'll fit.

Title: Home alone
Author: chris
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Pairing: none yet AS/S later, possibly H/D
Length: ~1500
Disclaimer: No, not mine. Sadly so but I only own the plot if there is any.
Summary: Holidays at Malfoy Manor

Written for faynias bidaily prompts.
Prompt #2: Two children come home to find a strange man asleep in their father's easy chair.
The first idea that popped into my head was completely different from what I have actually written but I like this one more because it gave me so many future scenarios to explore. (The one not written was Snape alive and at the Potters home)



It had been a warm day for early march but at 5 pm the sun had gone down and the two boys who had been flying over the Manor gardens all afternoon decided that a cup of hot chocolate in front of a fireplace might be a very good idea.
For hours they had been whirling around each other in circles, flying at high speed from one spot to another, brushing along the turrets and rooftops of the manor house and dropping from great heights or rising up into the air at the highest speed the old practice brooms that Scorpius father had given them could go.
Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Severus Potter were determined to become the best flyers the Slytherin house had ever seen so that next year when they would be allowed to take part in the tryouts for the Quidditch team, they would be chosen as the new Chasers.

“Uh, I can’t feel my fingers anymore.” Albus complained as he tried to let go of his broom after landing on a grassy spot near the broomshed.
“I have forgotten how to walk, I think” was Scorpius answer, as he was fighting to keep his balance now that he had descended from the broom.
The boys grinned at each other in full agreement that the flying had been worth these small discomfitures they felt now. The flying lessons at school couldn’t compare to the feeling of absolute freedom that they got from flying unobserved. Scorpius father had watched them the first few times they had flown during the holidays and decided they were good enough to be on their own.

Of course he had added to Albus: “You know that your father is going to kill me if you fall off your broom and break your neck, so please do me the favour of staying alive.”
And to Scorpius: “You, my dear son, I will kill myself if anything happens to my brooms, understood?”
All was said with a smile that made clear how his threats were meant.

Even after having been a guest at Malfoy Manor for over a week now, Albus couldn’t help being surprised by the great difference between Draco Malfoy’s public face and what Albus had named his family face. The reserved man who had brought Scorpius to Kings Cross last September was so far from the father of his best friend, who played and joked with them and generally seemed to be having a wonderful time if he got to spend it with them, they could be two entirely different people.
And this observation from the eleven year old didn’t even take into account all he had heard at home about the infamous Draco Malfoy, git extraordinaire, if you believed his uncle Ron, a typical Malfoy, ungrateful, opportunistic, Death Eater and so on. Not that Albus took Ron’s view of Draco Malfoy to heart, as it was so different from when his father talked about him.

After putting the brooms back into their shed, the two boys entered Malfoy Manor through a small door at the backside that led directly into the kitchen. The door was only three and a half foot in height, almost hidden from view by some bushes and not actually meant for humans to enter but as Scorpius had explained to Al on his first day at the Manor, it was the shortest way from the gardens to the kitchen and when he had been small Dippy the house elf who had been something like his nanny had taken him through there whenever they spent time outside.
As both boys were not that tall they still fit through the door with some ducking and a lot of giggling.
“I really can’t imagine your father crawling through here.” Albus wondered.
“But he did. I have seen him, well, he only did it to show me that he still could and it was a bit tight but he fit through.” Scorpius had told him the first time they took this way in, how last year when he had entered the house just like this, his father had been in the kitchen and at the sight of him walking through the elf door couldn’t stop laughing.
At Scorpius questions, Draco Malfoy had amended that he himself had used this very entrance everytime he had been on the Quidditch pitch when he himself had been a kid and the ensuing teasing about him now being too large to fit through the door had been settled by Scorpius’ father getting on all fours and proving that he still could pass.

It was one of Scorpius favourite memories of that last year, one time that they had simply had fun and laughed, only Scorpius and his father.

Moments like that one memory were a lot more often now that they lived alone.
Scorpius hadn’t talked much about it and Albus didn’t want to pry into private family matters but it was clear to the house guest that Sandrine, Scorpius mother didn’t live at Malfoy Manor anymore.

“Young Master and young Mister Potter will want hot chocolate, yes?” Trin, a very young and excited house elf accosted the boys as soon as they appeared in the kitchen. “Go, go, the fire is lit in the small parlour, you is needing to get warm again, after all that flying in the cold … so much cold, boys will get ill, they will … ask Trin, Trin knows all about children and sickness … and don’t make so much noise, you’s will wake … ”
Scorpius and Albus could hear the elf still muttering to herself, even after they had left the kitchen and were running through one of the long corridors towards the parlour where the promised fire should be waiting.

They didn’t even slow down upon entering the parlour but ran towards the big sofa nearest to the fireplace, intent on getting warm again. Running in the Manor halls was not exactly appreciated by Scorpius father, relaxed and laid back as he usually was at home but he had left this morning early announcing that he would spend all day at the ministry so the boys knew that no one would scold them for it this time.

Only as they were already comfortably seated on the sofa did the boys notice that they were not alone in the room.

Sitting in Draco Malfoys favourite armchair by the fire was a stranger.

He was old, lots older than his parents maybe like his grandparents, thought Albus and his short hair was completely white. His dark green robes seemed to swallow his body, they hung around a very thin and gaunt frame. In fact, and Albus couldn’t suppress a shiver as he thought it, he almost looked like a corpse.

Was the man asleep or was he dead?
Albus stared from the body in the chair to his best friend who was regarding the stranger with equally big eyes.

“Do you know him?” he whispered.
Scorpius shook his head without taking his eyes of the man.

A small popping sound in the silence of the room surprised the two boys and had both of them squeaking in fright.
“Hush now, quiet boys!” Trin admonished them in a whisper, “must not wake Master Lucius, needs rest he does.”
“Trin says small parlour, not in here. Master rests here … but boys never listen, always running …”
While the elf muttered she handed each of them a big steaming mug of chocolate that the stunned boys took without even noticing and with another pop the elf vanished again.

‘Lucius Malfoy!’ Albus didn’t know what to say or even what to think. He knew the name: Lucius Malfoy had been a Death Eater in the great war, had committed unforgivable crimes and had been sent to Azkaban for life.

And he was Scorpius Granddad.

“He’s your Grandpa.” He whispered without thought. Scorpius turned his head to Albus for the first time since discovering the man and swallowed.
“Yes.” His answer was almost inaudible.
“Sh … Shouldn’t he, you know? Be … “Albus had to swallow nervously,”be in you know where?” This question was uttered even more silently.
“Yes.”

“He doesn’t look evil and dangerous, only old and tired.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, Albus wished he could take them back. Before he even could start to apologize for his rude remark, a sound almost like a chuckle was heard from the armchair.
It was followed by coughing and when Lucius Malfoy had regained his breath he was looking at two wide eyed boys who were huddled together on the sofa, clutching mugs in their hands and now staring at him open mouthed.

“Yes, Scorpius I am your Grandfather and it’s a pleasure to meet you at last, and you must be the young Mister Potter, Albus Severus if I am not mistaken?”


Yes, for now that's it but there will be more and explanations will come.