Consciousness slowly came into him before he opened his eyes. Scorpius remembered all the fiasco that had happened back in Headmistress McGonagall's office and panicked. He recalled the weird magic the broken Time-Turner emitted and clearly remembered how the Headmistress and Albus' faces were fading before his eyes.
'Did it work?' he asked himself, eyes still tightly closed in alarm.
His nose twitched, trying to smell anything recognisable. He was unable to smell the telltale sterile scent of the Hospital Wing, so Scorpius deduced he might not be there at all. He was unable to smell the chamomile flowers displayed on his bedside table in the Slytherin dormitories; his mother, always a big fan of flowers and their symbols, thought the chamomile flower would best suit his hard life as a Malfoy. "Energy in adversity, my love," she had written to him one time. Ever since then, Astoria reverently sent him chamomile flowers.
Confused, he took a small sniff once more and wasn't able to recognise the smell. His nose was invaded with earthy, deep cedar mingled with an expensive scent that smelled eerily like his father. 'Open your eyes, you dolt,' a voice inside his mind said, sounding suspiciously like Albus.
Scorpius then cautiously opened his eyes and was relieved to find he was alone. As he sat up, his eyes slowly took in the unfamiliar room he was in. The first thing he noticed was the soft bed underneath him, draped with the blackest silk he had ever seen. His hand practically melted every time he stroked the soft and rich blanket.
He was in some kind of a bedroom. There was a tall bookcase to his right, brimming with books he didn't bother to investigate. There was a handsome mahogany desk pushed up against the wall underneath a huge window. Outside, sunlight poured in and bathed the room with light. A door, most likely leading to a bathroom, was placed just to the left of his bed and opposite it was a huge wardrobe that rivalled his very own in his bedroom back home.
Scorpius' eyes finally landed on the double, oak doors of the room and recognised the Malfoy family crest. 'So, I'm in the Malfoy Manor?' he asked himself, confused, as he slowly slipped down from the bed and strode closer to the door.
Upon closer inspection, the crest was unmistakable. He then noticed the engraved letters 'S' and 'M' underneath it. As Scorpius mindlessly traced his fingers on the initials of his name, he looked around the room once more, wondering how in Merlin's hell did this bedroom become his.
It was too cold, dreary and plain whereas Scorpius' room back home was plastered with numerous posters of his favourite band and Quidditch team. He did have the mahogany desk, but it was littered with a lot of picture frames of his family, his Quidditch team, his housemates, and Albus. He also usually requested green comforters as adornment for his bed; black was specifically his father's signature colour, not his.
His throat clotted with nerves. So perhaps, he was able to successfully go back in time. He seemed like he was in the Malfoy Manor after all. Scorpius decided that to actually know, he should venture outside and explore.
Scorpius peeked his head outside his room and looked around. There was no one around as he fully pushed the door open and stepped outside. He instantly recognised he was in the West Wing of the Malfoy Manor, where his bedroom was. He glanced around, confused that his bedroom was right where it was supposed to be, and wondered when did Astoria agree to start rearranging his things inside. His mother knew he'd go ballistic if she'd order to depersonalise his bedroom without his consent.
As he aimlessly walked around, eyes roving all over the humongous house, Scorpius was finally convinced he was in the Malfoy Manor. It was somehow drearier and darker as opposed to the cheery and bright Manor his mother worked hard to maintain. A part of him thought that perhaps, he had been successful in returning back after all. Now, the next thing he should do was to find his father and get the hell away from here.
'But how?' he asked, remembering what had happened to the Time-Turner before he was whisked away in this weird version of his childhood home. Panic rose from his stomach at the prospect of having to stay here for a few more days before he was able to procure another Time-Turner.
A sudden pop resounded in the whole corridor and Scorpius swore. He glared at the newcomer, but then gasped upon recognising his personal house-elf, Ditzy. The creature was slightly younger, though.
"Master Scorpius," Ditzy reverently said after bowing in greeting. "The Mistress Malfoy expects you in the East Wing Gardens."
"Mistress Malfoy?" Scorpius echoed, confused.
His house-elf eyed him strangely before slowly nodding his head. "Today is Master Malfoy's trial, Master Scorpius," Ditzy continued. "Mistress Malfoy expects you to be ready, Master Scorpius."
Scorpius paled. A trial. Today was Master Malfoy's trial. His head slowly swirled into a jumbled mess. If today was a trial, his father's trial, then perhaps he failed to go back into time and instead moved forward!
He suddenly couldn't breathe as he stumbled back in surprise. Ditzy squeaked and hastily held him upright. For a terribly small creature, he was surprisingly strong and Scorpius was thankful for his support. "Is Master Scorpius all right? Should Ditzy tell Mistress Malfoy the Master Scorpius is unwell?"
"No, no," he found himself breathlessly whisper in reply. "I... give me a moment, Ditzy. I'll just change my clothes."
His house-elf dutifully escorted him back to his bedroom and helped him dress up. To Scorpius' dismay, most of his clothes were black and grey. He blindly grabbed a random grey wizarding robe and wore it over his head, Ditzy immediately brushing away some lint and smoothing over wrinkles.
His head was still fuzzy when Ditzy escorted him to the East Wing Gardens. Scorpius was expecting the huge array of different flowers his mother nurtured and cared for. It was therefore bewildering when rows and rows of rosebushes greeted his eyes. Astoria hated roses, said they were terribly dull and sad. She opted to plant many other colourful flowers to adorn the East Wing Gardens.
"Mistress Malfoy, Ditzy brings Master Scorpius." Ditzy the house-elf then snapped his fingers and disappeared with a soft pop.
Scorpius' jaw dropped when the Mistress Malfoy, Narcissa, stood up and greeted him with a tired, worn smile. His Nana Narcissa had long been dead since he was five years old and he did not really remember much about her. He had seen her pictures in the Malfoy Manor before and sometimes, he would catch his father sitting underneath her huge portrait near the East Wing Gardens, tearfully talking to her, oblivious his son was observing.
"Na—" He bit his tongue when Narcissa strode forward. She then held both of his hands and squeezed them tight. There were tears in her eyes and Scorpius was at a loss of what to do.
"I know you didn't want to come today, but... but your mother needs you, Scorpius," Narcissa whispered.
"M-mother?" he asked, aghast. Her shimmering, blue eyes grew confused and Scorpius hastily added, "I-I mean, yes, of course, Mother."
Narcissa daintily sniffed and Scorpius immediately fished out his handkerchief from his pockets. His Nana carefully dabbed her eyes with the cloth, but she was unable to stop her tears. Narcissa's hand shook and she choked out a sob, before launching herself into the arms of a surprised Scorpius and broke down against his shoulders.
"E-everything will be all right," he whispered, confused and worried with her distress. "Everything will be all right, Nana, you'll see."
His eyes widened at his slip but the woman in his arms was too distracted with grief.
"We should... we should go now, my love," Narcissa said after calming down. She slowly pulled away from his arms and worriedly brushed his cheek with her knuckles. "Will you be all right?"
He should honestly be the one to ask that question to her, but Scorpius merely nodded his head.
"We must go," she said, completely wiping away her tears. "The trial is about to start."
As her words sank in, Scorpius baulked. If his deductions were correct, then the trial they kept on talking about wasn't of his father but... Scorpius' eyes widened in realisation.
Holy Mother of Merlin, he was about to witness Lucius Malfoy's trial.
__________
He was already familiar with the Wizengamot, having been here countless times before due to many reasons. During his younger years, his father used to have a seat here in the Wizengamot as the Head of House of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but this privilege was stripped off of him when Scorpius was about six. He had been here when he was ten years old to witness for the first time how his father was tried for having botched a raid in an old Pureblood House that wasn't clearly his fault. But then, an Auror had died at that time and the ministry immediately pointed a finger towards Draco. The last time he had been here was when he was about fourteen years old, his father pleading to the whole Wizengamot to clear Narcissa's name for the nth time during the anniversary of her death because she had never been a Death Eater. Predictably, the Wizengamot refused.
Now, he was sitting stiffly on the audience benches, nervously waiting for Lucius Malfoy's trial to start. The whole room was packed with people, cameras going off every minute to capture each and every moment in the trial. There were other spectators, most likely ministry officials, who had hungry looks in their eyes. Scorpius hazarded a guess these were the ones who wanted Lucius Malfoy incarcerated the most.
If his suspicions were right, he was able to go back in the summer of 1996 after the Battle in the Department of Mysteries. Lucius Malfoy was one of the caught Death Eaters and had been found guilty for his crimes. Scorpius had merely seen clippings of this event in the Hogwarts library. He tried to ask his father once about his grandfather, but Draco always resolutely refused and had been tightlipped about his father. One thing Scorpius knew from this whole debacle was that no love was lost between the father and son.
Speaking of Draco, Scorpius was still unable to catch his father's familiar form. He craned his neck just to search for him, but his father was still nowhere to be found. Scorpius did not take that as a good sign.
"All rise," a balding, middle-aged Ministry official soon drawled and everybody scrambled onto their feet. A stream of ministry officials, all wearing signature plum-coloured robes with an elaborate silver 'W' proudly displayed on their right breast, came inside and occupied the benches. Scorpius mentally counted them as almost fifty.
The last person to come in was an important-looking official, also wearing the same ensemble as the other fifty, and sauntered to the right of a tall podium instead of sitting with the other Wizengamot members. Scorpius' eyes widened, recognising Rufus Scrimgeour, the ministry that had replaced that bumbling idiot, Cornelius Fudge.
Minster Scrimgeour motioned for them to sit down as he settled on the high chair beside the podium. Seeing that the minister wasn't the one presiding over the trial, Scorpius tried to rack his brain to remember who the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was.
As if on cue, the doors opened once more. Scorpius' jaw slackened when Albus Dumbledore strolled in, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. He politely greeted Minister Scrimgeour and settled inside the podium.
"Bring in the accused," Dumbledore ordered. His voice was soft yet strong and imposing. Scorpius slightly shivered. He was in the presence of the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. Scorpius admired him so much, having collected as many Chocolate Frog cards of the respectable wizard as he could. He had poured himself over Dumbledore's biography, devouring all the little facts and maybe some fiction that surrounded this enigmatic, powerful wizard. Al used to incessantly tease him about his obsession over the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had.
In the middle of the room, a small chair materialised. Two guards then half-dragged, half-carried a dirty and scraggly man into the room and pushed him roughly onto the seat. Beside him, Narcissa whimpered and tightly gripped Scorpius' arm.
Scorpius felt his breath hitch at the sight of his grandfather. Lucius also had a portrait back home, but this man below him was a far cry from the imposing man in the Malfoy Manor. He was dirtied, tired, and emaciated. Clearly, Azkaban was unforgiving to him.
He swallowed a lump as the shackles magically bound Lucius to the chair. Scorpius blanched at how empty his eyes were and he was forced to look away.
Dumbledore then tapped the gavel twice, signalling the start of the trial. "Full trial on the 5th of July, for the offences committed by Lucius Malfoy, resident of the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England. Interrogators Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic, and Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot." He paused and tilted his head towards the minister.
Minister Scrimgeour stood up and strode forward, his eyes glued intently on the parchment in his hands. "Lucius Malfoy, you are hereby accused of bearing the Dark Mark, symbolising loyalty to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and had participated in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries last 18th of June, consequently injuring minors by using Unforgivables to obtain the prophecy for You-Know-Who. How do you plead?"
Narcissa's hand were like vices around his arm, but Scorpius did not seem to notice. He held his breath as he watched Lucius slowly lift his lifeless eyes and directed them at Minister Scrimgeour. "Guilty," he sneered. Scandalised gasps ran rampant in the room, and Dumbledore had to tap his gavel sharply to put an order in the court.
"Do you have any last words to say, Lucius Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes losing their twinkle as he stared straight at the Death Eater.
Scorpius had never seen so much hate in someone's eyes. A maniacal grin grew on Lucius' mouth as he leant forward and snarled, "Long Live the Dark Lord."
Enraged shouts erupted in the whole room. Scorpius watched, horrified, as some even dared to pull out their wand, ready to blast his grandfather for speaking despicable words. Scorpius himself was shaken with his declaration; he remembered his father telling him that Lucius had been loyal to Voldemort until his last breath. It felt a little surreal to witness his zealotry firsthand.
Dumbledore had to rap his gavel sharply several times again until everybody calmed down. "Those in favour of conviction, a lifetime sentence in Azkaban, for the accused." He paused as most hands – Merlin, all hands - rose in the air. Dumbledore even lifted his hand, his eyes never breaking contact with Lucius. Scorpius felt sick in the stomach and couldn't understand why Dumbledore had to ask for those in favour of clearing all charges when everybody obviously wanted him convicted.
"Convicted," Dumbledore calmly replied, rapped his gavel once, and strode out from his podium.
Narcissa wailed in despair and desperately clutched Scorpius, unable to watch as the two guards escorted Lucius out of the courtroom to Azkaban. For one, heart-stopping moment, Lucius' eyes met his. Scorpius was bewildered at the fear in his grandfather's eyes, but Lucius immediately broke his gaze as the guards fully dragged him away.
The members of the Wizengamot slowly trickled away but Scorpius and his Nana hadn't moved from their seats. It was only when a ministry official tentatively approached them and asked them to leave did they finally return to the Malfoy Manor.
__________
Later that night after Scorpius made sure his Nana was finally sound asleep, he took that time to explore the old Malfoy Manor. Despite the resemblance it bore, Scorpius did not feel at home. The lack of his mother's colourful flowers and bright lights made this place simply dreary and cold for the young Slytherin.
Scorpius' mind was still reeling from Lucius' trial this morning. He honestly expected to land in Hogwarts from his time-travelling mishap, believing that his father might be there. Judging from the day of the trial, a new term still had not started in Hogwarts and Scorpius was very, very confused.
He tried to ask about his father to Ditzy when they returned, but his house-elf merely gave him a confused look and excused himself.
He was starting to panic. Albus would have a field day if he discovered Malfoy the Unanxious was suddenly shaken to his core. Scorpius could not dispel the dread in his heart, no matter how many happy thoughts he conjured in his mind.
Such was his distraction he was surprised when his feet brought him towards the Malfoy family tree tapestry. When he was young, he would usually sit on the floor and happily trace his name with his small fingers. Astoria once caught him trying to colour his name more prettily with the Muggle crayons he begged Ditzy to buy for him. Ever since then, he had been banned in this room if he were unaccompanied.
Wryly, he expected his mother to suddenly appear and scold him incessantly if he ever thought of defiling the family tapestry once more. He was somehow tempted to actually do it just so his mother would appear. But then, of course, he was brought back into time and Astoria was most probably in the Greengrass Manor right now, oblivious that the son she would have ten years from now existed in the same timeline as she did.
Emotions welled in his heart and Scorpius felt homesick. He missed his mother and her unbelievably large collection of flowers. He missed his father and his brooding, smirking face. He even missed the Ditzy of his own time, always nagging him to eat more or to chew more slowly. He missed Albus and his stupid face. He missed Rose and her pretty hair and scathing remarks. Damn it all, he missed everyone back in his time, even those he did not really know.
Sighing sadly, Scorpius sat on the carpeted floor and sought out his name. He gently traced it with his fingers, hoping that his parents didn't miss him too much now that he disappeared.
Scorpius then sought out his father's name but frowned when he was unable to see it. Narrowing his eyes, he traced his name back and sputtered out in disbelief to see that he was the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and not their grandson.
He scrambled back onto his feet and frantically searched for a 'Draco Malfoy' on the tapestry. Scorpius did this for almost an hour, desperately begging for the tapestry to quit its games and show him the real Malfoy family tree.
It was only when he scoured for the fiftieth time when Scorpius begrudgingly accepted that Draco Malfoy's name was missing from the Malfoy family tree.