Dear Scorpius,
I have feared that the time for your secrets to be revealed will come sooner than we've hoped. But then again, we are talking about the Golden Trio; they do have a knack for knowing things that they shouldn't.
This is your secret to tell, my dear boy. If you deem it necessary to finally tell them everything, then I am powerless to stop you. I sincerely believed that with their newfound knowledge, the help you desperately needed will finally become realised.
Again, trust is a two-way street. Perhaps, if you trust them with your secret, they can finally trust you and your allegiance.
Sincerely,
Professor Dumbledore
P.S. The attic in Grimmauld Place is a delightful place for lost treasures and unexpectedly helpful things.
Scorpius sighed and daintily folded the parchment. He somehow wasn't surprised this was Dumbledore's response to his letter. He knew that despite asking for his advice, the decision to finally tell the DA Core would still fall onto his shoulders. He was a little confused about the postscript, though, but he didn't dwell on it further.
He didn't come down for dinner despite being invited over by Ron, of all people. Scorpius could see that Ron felt awkward in his presence, undoubtedly still reeling from the event that had happened earlier that day. He was thankful the Gryffindor didn't pester when Scorpius politely declined to go down for dinner.
The Slytherin thought that today would come to an end in total solitude. He was honestly disappointed when Hermione Granger came barging in, her hands placed against her hips and a no-nonsense look on her face.
"Granger..."
"No, Malfoy, enough of your stupid secrets!" she thundered. Scorpius flinched at the tone of her voice. Hermione paused, took a deep breath, and deflated. A new emotion appeared on her face, and Scorpius knew that his resolve was dissolving. "I... well, we need to understand what happened this afternoon."
Scorpius expelled a humongous sigh and gave her a withering look. "Ugh, fine, you've always been too pushy," he pointed out, almost bordering whiny. She cracked a small smile and it made him feel a little better.
He then pushed himself off his bed and grabbed his wand. "Meet me in the attic," he said, remembering Dumbledore's letter. "Go bring the others."
"The attic?" she asked, confused. "Why?"
A wry smile appeared on his face. "I'm honestly not sure, too," he said.
Scorpius didn't wait for more of Hermione's pestering and instead travelled upstairs. He could hear the lull of soft conversations in the living room, the adult members of the Order of the Phoenix lounging around.
He had been in the attic numerous times with Al before. Dumbledore was right when he said that there were a lot of weird things inside. He could remember adventurous days with his best friend, spending the whole day discovering new knick-knacks to tinker with.
The attic wasn't too different from the one he remembered. It was the room his mother hadn't really touched; thus, he wasn't too surprised nothing had changed.
Scorpius was at a loss of what Dumbledore meant when he hinted about finding something in the attic that could help him with his revelation. He mentally cursed the old wizard, thinking that he had no time for his stupid riddles. His nerves were too frazzled for his mind games; he honestly needed some help right now.
"All right, Malfoy, we're here," Granger announced. Behind him were the other suspicious Gryffindors. He breathed a little in relief, seeing that they did not grab any adult Order members to witness his revelation.
"Why'd you choose the attic of all places?" Harry asked, grimacing at the cluttered sight.
He shrugged, chose a particular spot on the floor, and expectantly looked at the other people in the room. He gestured at the empty spots beside him. "I don't have all day," he drawled.
Hermione frowned and was the first to sit beside him. Ginny and Ron followed suit, and it was only Harry who was left standing.
"Harry, come on," Hermione urged.
"I think... I'd rather stand," the Boy-Who-Lived said, slowly pulling out his wand.
"Suit yourself," Scorpius said, rolling his eyes at the suspicion in Harry's eyes. He looked at each and every one of them and started, "So what do you want to know?"
Ginny snorted, much to his surprise. "Honestly, Malfoy?" she started. "We don't really know what the bloody hell happened. So maybe the best thing to do is to tell us everything?"
"Everything," he echoed, a wry smile on his face. "I don't know where to start." It was the truth. He had undergone a lot of things for the past few months and he honestly didn't know which were the relevant ones anymore.
"Maybe start by telling us who that was?" Hermione helpfully offered. "The man that the boggart took the form of. The one you called 'Dad'."
Scorpius sighed. "That was Draco Malfoy," he continued. It made his heart terribly ache at the blank looks on their faces. "He was... well, he had been persecuted all of his life for all the wrong choices he made during his youth and every day, I fear that he would unfairly receive the Dementor's Kiss just for following orders." He ran a hand through his face, suddenly feeling drained. "And yes, as what you've heard, he's my father."
"But isn't Lucius..." Ron faltered and knitted his eyebrows. "Ugh, I don't know what to think anymore."
"Lucius isn't your father. This Draco Malfoy is," Hermione repeated, a faraway look now on her face. She was gazing at the window in the attic and Scorpius could practically see the gears inside her head turning and turning. "But this Draco Malfoy... we have never heard of him."
"Because he doesn't exist in this world," he simply replied. "Not yet, hopefully."
Identical confused faces appeared on the others, but Hermione continued to scrutinize the window.
"Then how—"
"Because you're not from here," Hermione gushed out to cut off Harry's question, her brown eyes now widening in realisation. "It makes sense. You act as if you weren't the arrogant, annoying Scorpion King we grew accustomed to because you are not him."
Ginny placed a worried hand on the brunette's shoulder. "That's preposterous, Hermione. I don't think—"
"I'm right, aren't I?" she demanded, this time staring squarely into Scorpius' steely, grey eyes. "Maybe you're from another timeline? Heck, even from another dimension! I know it's too farfetched, but I've read a lot about time-travelling and it's possible. It's the only thing that could explain why everything's been... been confusing and frustrating with you ever since the start of the school year."
All eyes landed on him, this time horrified that Hermione's suggestion might actually be true. For his reply, Scorpius lightly smiled, his eyes never leaving Hermione's determined look.
"Once again, ladies and gentlemen, the brightest witch of her age did not disappoint."
"No fucking way," Ron breathed out. Harry was too stunned, plopping ungracefully on the floor. Although right, Hermione also looked surprised that her theory was actually true.
"You're from the future?" Ginny shrieked, her red hair suddenly becoming fiery with her disbelief.
Scorpius sighed and once again ran a hand through his head. "Close," he said.
"What do you mean?" Hermione inquired with a frown.
"What I meant was yes, I'm from the future," he said. "Twenty-seven years from now, to be exact. But it's not that simple. It's..." He paused and sighed, racking his brain for a simpler explanation for his anomalous presence in this timeline. "I did use a Time-Turner, but it got broken in the process, but somehow, I managed to still travel back in time. The problem is, I seemed to replace my father – yes, he was supposed to be your classmate – and Dumbledore believed that I may have inadvertently made my father cease to exist in this timeline."
Hermione groaned. "That doesn't make any sense," she protested. "Time-Turners are made to let people travel back in time, not replace people."
"I know that," the Slytherin snapped. "Which was why I was understandably freaking out when I discovered that my own father doesn't exist and I'm the reason why he isn't."
"Okay, okay," Ginny said, obviously still reeling from the conversation. "Hold up. You said the Time-Turner was broken when you used it. Correct me if I'm wrong, but a Time-Turner should be working to bring people back into time."
"It's some complicated magical shit," Scorpius said, dismissively waving his hand. "I still honestly have no idea what the hell happened, but Dumbledore believed that my undying love for my father and my wish to save him was the reason why Time still permitted me to go back. Think of it in the same sense as to how Potter's mother died saving him for love. A child's love for his parent is equally powerful, apparently."
Silence met his claim and Scorpius was at a loss of what to say next to convince them. He was afraid that with this revelation, they'd think he was barmy and would all decide he was too insane to actually help.
"We need proof," Hermione suddenly declared.
"How?" Scorpius tiredly asked, shooting her a withering glance. "If you must know, Granger, I have no means of—" His eyes widened, finally realising what Dumbledore meant when he said that this attic housed some 'unexpectedly helpful things'.
Scorpius immediately scrambled onto his feet and ignored their questions. He scoured through the old trinkets, searching for an old cabinet he clearly remembered contained a pensieve before. "Aha!" he cried, relieved that the pensieve was still there. He pulled out his wand and levitated the pensieve until it sat in front of the Gryffindors.
"I can show you my memories," Scorpius said, directing his gaze at Hermione. "I think that is proof enough."
She wordlessly nodded her head in agreement.
Taking a deep breath, Scorpius closed his eyes and conjured all the memories he had with his parents and his friends, of the future Wizarding World, and all the good things these people in the room had done for the betterment of their world.
A thin tendril of whitish mist came out from his temple and Scorpius immediately directed it into the magical basin. His memories glowed and swirled around, and Scorpius could already see a distorted image of his father.
"See you inside," he murmured. He touched the magical water and was instantly transported inside.
Scorpius waited for his memory to materialise as the other Gryffindors appeared beside him. Then, the mist conjured an old image of his family, in the vast field of the Malfoy Manor, with a five-year-old Scorpius Malfoy riding his toy broom for the first time.
"That's it, Scorp, you're doing great!" memory Draco hollered as he cupped his hands against his mouth to increase the volume of his voice. Real Scorpius beamed as his younger self zoomed all over the field. He could see how his mother was very pale from the little tricks the child was doing.
His small family soon burst into white mists and formed another memory of little Scorpius, reverently staying beside his sickly mother on her bed. Astoria had been sickly ever since she bore Scorpius, and he and Draco had religiously stayed by her side every time she fell ill.
"You mustn't cry, my love," memory Astoria said with a smile. "Mummy will get better soon."
"Your mother is Astoria Greengrass?" Ron half-shrieked, half-whispered.
Scorpius smirked. "The one and the same."
The memory disappeared replaced by another one, this time of eleven-year-old Scorpius proudly presenting the Hogwarts acceptance letter to his parents. It was Draco who first stood up from his chair and engulfed his son into a big hug.
The next memory was one in Hogwarts Express, and Scorpius instantly knew this was the first time he'd befriend Albus Severus Potter. He shot a quick glance at Harry, who was intently watching the scene unfolding before their eyes.
"Listen, I know who you are so it's only fair that you know who I am," memory Scorpius said, frowning at the thought that perhaps, if he revealed his true identity to this boy, he wouldn't want to be his friend anymore.
"You're Albus Potter. And I'm Scorpius Malfoy. My parents are Astoria and Draco Malfoy. Our parents..." He looked away and sighed. "Well, they didn't get together very well."
All eyes were on Harry Potter, because honestly, his resemblance with Albus was also uncanny. Potter's eyes, however, were boring onto him.
The next memory this time was a brooding Scorpius in the Slytherin dormitories. Albus was sitting beside him, a hand on his shoulder.
"I don't mind if you stop being my friend, Al," memory Scorpius said, trying to sound cheery. "You wouldn't want to be seen with the bloody son of Mouldy Voldemort."
Memory Albus snorted. "I don't care if you're the next Dark Lord, Scorp," he pointed out. "You're my bloody best friend."
"But your dad..." Scorpius sighed and looked down his lap. "He isn't exactly fond of me."
"I'll take care of him."
He instantly recognised the next scene as the one in King's Cross, with his furious father confronting Harry Potter for all the spectators to see.
"I didn't know you can be petty for even thinking of separating two bloody friends, Potter," his father snarled. It was during that day when Scorpius realised that he truly, really, undoubtedly loved his father very much.
The following memory was of fourth year Scorpius Malfoy sitting on his bed, reading a letter from his father.
... Forgive me, Scorpius, but your father has been caught in another conundrum. Things may become difficult for us once again because of my past mistakes. Forgive me, my son...
Tears prickled Scorpius' eyes as the scene changed, this time of a memory of him and Albus near the Hogwarts Lake during that fateful day when he decided to go back into time to save his father.
"I'm going to steal a Time-Turner, Al... I'm going back in time and warn my father about the possible consequences of the wrong choices he will make." Real Scorpius was half-tempted to shout that he was fucking insane for even thinking of that.
"Sweet Salazar, Scorpius, this is insane!" Albus exclaimed.
The next memory was of him being stopped by McGonagall, with a broken Time Turner, his tears mingling with the magical sand, and triggering a phenomenon that brought him back into time.
The last memory was of him waking up in his unfamiliar bedroom in the Malfoy Manor, before everything turned into mists and they were transported back into the attic of Grimmauld Place.
Tear tracks were still on his face and Scorpius immediately wiped them away. It was embarrassing enough to cry in front of the stupid Golden Trio, much less doing it twice on the same fucking day.
The silence was very thick while everybody digested everything that had happened. Scorpius could see that all of them were still reeling from what they had seen. He couldn't really fault them, but he hoped that showing his memories could at least help support his preposterous revelation.
"How would we know those aren't false memories," Ron slowly started, prompting Scorpius to scowl. Before he could defend himself, however, he was surprised when Hermione released a tired sigh and gave him a pointed glance. "What? I'm just being cautious."
"It would take a tremendous amount of skill to alter a memory, Ronald," Hermione snapped. Scorpius felt his heart flutter at the conviction in her voice. "It would be obvious if he altered his memories." She shot a quick glance at the Slytherin and frowned. "No offence, Malfoy, but I think you aren't skilled enough."
He shrugged, completely concurring with her words.
"Hermione's right." Scorpius' eyes widened as they landed on Potter. The look on his face was indecipherable. "I've seen Slughorn's altered memories. They're obvious; you'd instantly know if something's wrong. His memories, though..." His emerald eyes landed onto his form. "I believe they're true."
"Well then, Weasley, have I convinced you enough?" Scorpius snarled. Ron glared at his shoes but chose not to comment anything further. "Now that you know my terrible secret, everything's fine and dandy now, yeah? Maybe you could stop pestering me for today and leave me alone now."
Hermione stepped forward and tried to reach for him but he stepped back. "Malfoy..."
"I said leave me alone," he grounded out.
"Come on, Hermione," Ginny murmured, grasping onto Hermione's arm. Scorpius didn't look back at the door until he heard it close right behind them. By the time they were gone, Scorpius released a humongous sigh and looked at the pensieve once more.
He felt his tears build up in his eyes again as he slowly approached the basin on the floor. He touched the tip of his wand at his temple and extracted more memories for him to view. If he couldn't return back to his own timeline, then the universe shouldn't fault him if he would relieve them over and over again.
__________
The days following his revelation went by in a blur. Nobody made a peep about their discovery and Scorpius was eternally grateful. Most of his nights, he would venture into the attic to view his memories in the pensieve. Perhaps, it was his way of saying goodbye to the people he had loved for sixteen years.
Soon, it was the night before Christmas, and Scorpius was found alone in his room. Mrs. Weasley's dinner was of course scrumptious, and the infamous Weasley twins had finally arrived to celebrate Christmas with the family the next day. Normally, he would have loved to interact with Fred and George Weasley, but he was still feeling under the weather. He knew the twins were also curious about his strange presence in Grimmauld Place, but had surprisingly left him alone ever since.
In his solitude, Scorpius took that time to start sending Christmas gifts. He owled his gifts for his Slytherin acquaintances, sent Narcissa's handkerchief with a letter beseeching her to be careful, and he also sent Dumbledore's and Snape's gift. He took deliberate care in owling Astoria's gift, bewitching her lilies of the valley to be everlasting so that she could keep it this time.
He also owled the gifts he bought for Neville and Luna, seeing that they wouldn't be in Grimmauld Place during the break. For the others, Scorpius reckoned it would be such a waste to owl it to them when they were living under the same roof. He would just wake up extra early tomorrow and place the gifts under the Christmas tree to avoid any awkward gift-giving on his part. He was especially jittery about his gift for Potter, still mentally cursing himself for impulsively buying a gift that his best friend would undoubtedly appreciate, not his father.
It was nearing midnight when all of the gifts were sent. Scorpius was preparing to go to bed when he noticed the lone silver box still sitting on the table.
'Oh, right,' he thought as he slowly approached the gift and clutched it in his hands. His tired owl had finally come back from his last excursion, and he was about to go to sleep. Scorpius knew it was stupid for even thinking of sending it to his father and bothering the owl at the same time, but he couldn't stop himself.
"Sorry, mate," he murmured, stroking the rich feathers of his eagle owl, Apollo. "This will be the last one."
Apollo hooted in protest and nipped his finger, but allowed him to finally tie the gift around his neck. His owl took flight and Scorpius watched from his window, wondering if anybody would even be there to receive his gift.
__________
He was awakened by the streams of sunlight on his face. Scorpius groggily opened his eyes and sat up. For a moment, he took in the state of the mouldy, smelly bedroom he had claimed as his own, before his eyes landed on the table beside his bed.
Apollo was slumbering on his bed, his gift for Draco still tied around his leg.
Scorpius heart sank as he stood up from his bed and untied the gift. Apollo hooted in annoyance at being disturbed, hiding his face using his humongous wings.
Sighing, Scorpius hid the box inside his trunk and sat back down on his bed, already deciding that this was the worst Christmas he ever had.