harryjamesheadcanons:

Draco still does not like coming to this house, still does not like intruding on Potter’s domain, seeing the intimate details of his family, sometimes wishes Scorpius would find someone else to spend afternoons with. He doesn’t bring his son here often. He’s fourteen, after all, and can use the Floo by himself – Albus sure seems to come and go – but Draco is careful. He knows that given half a chance, he himself would have spent his adolescence wandering, and not within the safe walls of a trusted wizard. (When did Harry Potter become a trusted wizard?)

So he takes Scorpius though Side-Along Apparition to the little atrium outside the Potter house, and Scorpius knocks. Almost immediately, Albus – who looks too much like his father for Draco’s comfort – flings the door open. “Hey!” he says excitedly. “Come on in!” 

Scorpius follows, and the boys begin to talk excitedly. Draco plans to stay only a moment, to step into the study off the kitchen to tell Harry – or, hopefully, Ginevra – to send Scorpius home by Floo whenever he gets to be a bother, or by ten, whichever comes first. 

A sound stops him, though. 

A cold sound, an unnatural sound, a sound that Draco hasn’t heard in – twenty years? It digs at him, though, high and cold and Draco feels – he feels eighteen, cold, sick and watching frozen while the man he fears more than anything barks orders at a snake strong enough to kill him without the flick of anyone’s wand – he doesn’t dare turn around, doesn’t dare look at the Dark Lord, doesn’t dare stare directly into the sun – he is unarmed, his father is, too, what would happen if he – 

“Oh, hi, Mr. Malfoy,” Jamie Potter’s all-too-bright Weasley voice calls out from the parlor Draco has his back to. “Sorry to scare you, we were just practicing.” 

And he turns. There is no Dark Lord, no Nagini. Just the oldest Potter child and the youngest, both staring a snake too small to hunt a mouse. 

Of course. 

Of all the places to find his past, he should not be looking in the Potter home. He nods, briskly, and sets off towards the kitchen, wondering if he should mention to Potter just how creepy his children were acting…