Scorpius floated in a black void, weightless and unanchored, his thoughts the only evidence of his existence. "Hello?" he called out, his voice trembling slightly as it echoed into the emptiness. There was no response.
Out of nowhere, a soft chime sounded, sharp yet melodic, and a faint golden light appeared in the void. The light quickly expanded, resolving into a transparent bar hovering in midair. Half of the transparent bar was filled with glowing light, and a percentage was displayed boldly in blue.
50%
The bar flickered slightly, then inched forward. Scorpius squinted at it, his curiosity battling the unease curling in his chest.
60%
"What... is this?" he muttered, his voice swallowed by the silence.
The air—if it could even be called that—felt heavy, pressing against him like invisible hands. The emptiness surrounding him was suffocating, yet he didn't feel the need to breathe. A strange sensation settled in his core, a mix of anticipation and dread.
Scorpius twisted his perspective, trying to "move." He couldn't tell if he was standing, floating, or simply existing. There was no ground, no sky, just endless black. He reached out instinctively—only to find that he was like a translucent spirit. He was a presence, and nothing more.
70%
The bar glowed brighter, the golden light illuminating a small area around it. The void seemed less infinite now, as though it were shrinking with every passing second.
Scorpius glanced around, desperate for something—anything—that could explain where he was or what was happening. Faint, swirling patterns danced at the edges of his vision, like tendrils of smoke or magic. They ebbed and flowed, as though alive.
80%
The sensation in his core grew sharper, more insistent. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing the ground would give way at any moment. He wanted to scream, to demand answers from the nothingness, but a strange calm crept over him instead, a quiet voice in the back of his mind whispering: Wait.
90%
The patterns around him coalesced into shapes—fleeting impressions of landscapes, faces, objects—all slipping away before he could focus on them. His chest, or whatever represented it now, tightened with an inexplicable weight.
95%
The bar slowed, each percentage mark dragging as if reluctant to complete. Scorpius couldn't tear his focus away. He felt like a mouse staring into the eyes of a serpent—terrified, yet transfixed.
A soft hum began to resonate, faint at first, but growing louder with each passing second.
"Finish already," he whispered, though he didn't know if he wanted it to.
100%
A sharp chime reverberated through the void, the light from the bar exploding outward in a radiant flash. The darkness crumbled away like ash on the wind, and Scorpius felt himself being pulled—no, yanked—back into reality.
"Master Scorpius! Wake up, Master Scorpius!"
The sound of Clyde's frantic voice reached his ears, pulling him fully back into the waking world. He opened his eyes, blinking against the bright morning light streaming through his bedroom windows.
"What...?" he murmured, his head spinning as fragments of the void lingered in his mind.
Clyde's face hovered over him, his large, bat-like ears twitching in concern.
"Master Scorpius was difficult to wake today," Clyde said, his tone a mix of worry and reproach. "Master has slept in his clothes again! Clyde changed them for you last night."
Scorpius sat up abruptly, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his pajamas. "You… changed me?"
Clyde nodded earnestly. "Clyde couldn't let Master Scorpius sleep like that. It's improper! Master Draco wouldn't approve."
Suppressing a groan, Scorpius ran a hand through his hair. Whatever strange experience he had just endured, was gone now, leaving a vague sense of disquiet.
Before he could dwell on it, the door to his room opened, and Astoria stepped in. She was dressed in a simple but elegant robe of soft lavender, her expression calm and composed as always.
"Good morning, Scorpius," she greeted with a warm smile. "Hurry up and get ready. We're heading to Diagon Alley today. Your father is already preparing the Floo Powder."
Scorpius nodded, his earlier unease ebbing slightly at the mention of the trip. "Yes, Mum. I'll be down soon."
Astoria left the room, and Scorpius swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he stood, stretching to shake off the lingering grogginess, something caught his attention.
In the bottom-left corner of his vision, a faint, round map had appeared, glowing softly.
He froze, staring at the unfamiliar sight. The map was simple, almost like something out of a video game. A small icon marked his location in the center, labeled Malfoy Manor. Around it, faint outlines suggested walls and rooms, but everything beyond the immediate area was shrouded in darkness.
"What in Merlin's name...?" Scorpius whispered.
As he turned his head, the map shifted with him, the marker rotating to match his perspective. Tentatively, he focused on it, and to his surprise, he found he could interact with it. A small flick of thought zoomed the map in, showing finer details of the manor—the kitchens, the hallways, the gardens. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't zoom out beyond the manor grounds. A compass indicated the direction of the map. When he turned, the marker, as well as the cardinal rose compass, turned as well.
Above the map, a line of text appeared:
↣ Visit Ollivanders.
Scorpius blinked, his pulse quickening. "What is this?"
He tried waving his hand in front of his face, but the map remained steady as if projected directly onto his vision. His heart raced. The surreal experience from earlier, the glowing bar—it wasn't just a dream.
"Master Scorpius?" Clyde's voice startled him out of his thoughts. The house-elf was standing by the wardrobe, holding out a freshly pressed set of robes.
"Y-Yes, Clyde. I'm coming," Scorpius said, shaking his head as he forced himself to focus.
For now, he would play along. Whatever this was, it could wait until later.
As he dressed and made his way down to the dining room, the map stayed firmly in his vision, a quiet reminder that his life was no longer as simple as it seemed.
"Ready to go?" asked Draco, waiting by the fireplace with a bag of Floo Powder in his hands. He was dressed in a crisp black robe, tailored to perfection, with subtle silver embroidery along the cuffs and collar. His platinum-blonde hair was slicked back as usual, giving him an air of composed authority.
"Yes, Father," Scorpius replied, adjusting his robes. They were a deep emerald green, trimmed with silver—colors that made his house allegiances obvious even before stepping foot in Hogwarts.
Astoria appeared behind him, her lavender robes fluttering slightly as she carried a small purse. "Do you have everything you need, Scorpius? Your list? Your coin purse?"
"Yes, Mum," Scorpius assured her, though his voice wavered slightly. The strange map in his vision was still there, glowing faintly, and the words Objective: Visit Ollivanders seemed to burn into his mind.
Astoria gave him a gentle smile and smoothed his hair. "Good. You'll love Diagon Alley. It's such a magical place, full of wonders. This is a big day for you."
"Is anyone else coming with us?" asked Scorpius.
"Shopping for your wand is a ceremony," said Draco," It is a private moment to be shared among your family. It is improper to accompany others when shopping for wands."
"Oh, I didn't know that," blinked Scorpius. He wasn't aware that wand shopping was a huge deal. It was never explained in the original books, and Hagrid accompanied Harry for his first Wand Shopping experience.
Draco threw a bit of Floo powder into the fireplace, turning the flames green. Scorpius was startled as the fireplace became outlined in white. If he focused on it, he could see a hovering text bubble saying Floo Fireplace.
"What's wrong?" said Draco puzzled by the reaction," This isn't your first time traveling through the Floo Network."
"Nothing Father, I was just a bit nervous, that's all," said Scorpio.
Draco gestured toward the bag of Floo Powder. "Come on, Scorpius. Take a pinch, step in, and clearly say, 'The Leaky Cauldron.'"
Scorpius took a deep breath and stepped forward. He reached into the bag, feeling the gritty powder sift through his fingers. His father's eyes were sharp, observing his every move, while his mother offered a reassuring nod.
Taking a pinch of the Floo Powder, he threw it into the hearth, watching as emerald flames roared to life around him. "The Leaky Cauldron!" he declared, his voice strong despite his inner turmoil.
The world spun in a blur of green light, and Scorpius felt himself hurtling forward, the magical map still hovering in the corner of his vision like a secret only he could see.
In the fleeting moments, the world outside the swirling flames seemed to stretch, as though time was dilating in the magical space. Then, just as abruptly, the twisting and spinning ceased. The fiery whirlwind dissolved into a sudden calm, and Scorpius found himself standing in a new place, the feeling of the cold stone beneath his feet a stark contrast to the heat of the fire.
He blinked, taking a moment to adjust. The air smelled faintly of old wood and the unmistakable scent of magic. It was the Leaky Cauldron—he could tell instantly by the worn wooden beams of the tavern and the clattering of mugs in the distance. The noise of bustling customers and the clinking of coins seemed muffled around him, as if he was distanced from the noise of the world by the strange map that hovered, still glowing in the corner of his vision.
The map indicated his position clearly: Diagon Alley. In smaller letters, it showed him standing in the Leaky Cauldron. The map also sported a dotted path going all the way from his location to Ollivander's Wand shop.
"Welcome," a cheery voice came from the bar. Scorpio looked at the smiling brown-haired waitress and waved back.
"Come on, Scorpius," his father's voice broke through the stillness. Draco was already a few paces ahead, not waiting for Scorpius to catch up. His mother, Astoria, was beside him, her expression warm as always.
As Scorpius and his parents made their way through the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, the bustling crowds seemed to part around them, a subtle reverence lingering in the air. People whispered and glanced, their eyes flickering to the young Malfoy heir as if he carried the weight of an entire legacy.
Despite the festive nature of the street, with vibrant signs swaying above enchanted shops and the chatter of witches and wizards making their way to their errands, Scorpius couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Everyone was staring at him. As they walked, Scorpius caught snippets of hushed conversations, voices dropping as people noticed him passing by.
"Did you hear? The Malfoys are in town again. I heard Draco's making another big investment. Something about an ancient vault..." one wizard muttered to his companion, who nodded, eyes shifting nervously.
Another voice, lower and far more secretive, barely audible, reached Scorpius's ears. It was a woman's voice, laced with suspicion. "He's the son of the Malfoy family, but... You know whose blood runs in his veins. No wonder he looks just like him."
Scorpio snorted when he heard those rumors. Another ridiculous story about him. It was strange how people discredited the losers, but strangely enough, Scorpius spotted his father's clenched fist. "Scorpius, do not listen to those rumors," said Draco.
"I know father," said Scorpius, already used to such nonsense.
Astoria put a gentle hand on his shoulder, guiding him forward. "Ignore them, Scorpius. People have always been quick to judge the Malfoys, but they don't know you. You'll define your own path."
If Scorpio was a child, he would have been bitter and annoyed by the pestering, but the experienced self in him saw the care and strength in ignoring such rumors.
The Gringotts Wizarding Bank was a marvel of ancient and modern magic, a testament to both wealth and security. As they stepped through the towering marble columns of the bank's entrance, the Malfoys were greeted by the cool, polished floors and the dim, golden light from floating lanterns. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of old parchment, metal, and dust—a rich combination that felt both old-world and timeless.
The grand hall of Gringotts stretched high above them, its vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of dragons, phoenixes, and ancient symbols of protection. The stone walls, though centuries old, had been meticulously maintained, the surface glimmering as if carved from some luminous, unearthly material. Above them, intricate chandeliers of delicate, enchanted glass hovered in mid-air, casting shimmering patterns of light across the room. The grandeur of it all was enough to make Scorpius feel small in the face of such history.
However, Scorpius couldn't help but notice the additions made compared to the original books. The bank had undergone a series of renovations in 2017, following a series of high-profile break-ins that had shaken the wizarding world. The security had been revamped—both the architecture and the magical barriers—creating a seamless blend of the old and the new. Scorpius marveled at the subtle integration of enchanted glass panels in the walls, glowing runes etched into the stone that responded to even the slightest magical disturbance, and the reinforced vault doors that had been made even thicker and harder to breach.
Goblins scurried about, their sharp eyes watching over the operations with the meticulous care that had made Gringotts infamous for its impenetrable security. Scorpius noted the change in apparel from the golden generation to the next. They used to wear club hats, full-hand shirts, and formal pants. Now, some of them also sported denim overalls and colored hair.
Scorpio read the large logo on the bank. 'Gringotts Wizarding Bank.' Under it was a saying in smaller text,' Fortius Quo Fidellius' roughly translating to strength through loyalty.
On the door, there was a warning: "Enter stranger but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed. For those who take but do not earn must pay dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors a treasure that was never yours, thief, you have been warned, beware of finding more than treasure there."
Scorpio let out a small smile. At least some things remained constant. As the Malfoys approached the designated goblin, a sharp-featured creature with greenish skin, pointed ears, and a long, hooked nose, Scorpius noticed the gleaming steel rails that now lined the floor beneath a set of archways.
"Master Malfoy, this way," the goblin said with a grunt, pointing toward an ornate cart that gleamed in the light, looking almost too modern for the ancient establishment. Unlike a metal minecart, this one was different. It consisted of two axles with wheels supporting a large metal box in the shape of a cart.
As they climbed into the cart, Scorpius noticed that his mother, Astoria, wasn't joining them. She had excused herself, citing her health, and would wait in the lobby while Draco and Scorpius descended into the vaults below. Scorpius could feel a knot of worry tighten in his stomach at her absence, but he quickly pushed it aside. This was about business—about securing his family's wealth, after all.
The goblin took his place at the helm of the cart, giving a quick, curt nod to the Malfoys. The ride began with a sudden jolt, throwing Scorpius back against the plush seat as the cart lurched into motion. The track seemed to disappear into the shadows ahead, twisting and turning with dizzying speed. The walls around them seemed to blur as they descended deeper and deeper into the earth, the enchanted lanterns lining the walls flickering as if struggling to keep up with their breakneck speed.
They zoomed through cavernous chambers where the bank's most precious vaults lay hidden behind reinforced gates, each one marked with glowing runes and intricate wards.
The goblin at the helm spoke up, clearly proud of the new renovations. "The ride's been upgraded in recent years. Faster, safer, and more secure than ever," he boasted, his voice harsh and grating. "No one, not even the most skilled wizard, can break into these vaults now. We've made sure of that."
Draco, ever the skeptic, sneered. "Faster, yes. Safer, perhaps. But don't tell me you're still bragging about your security after those two seventh-year students managed to get past it all."
The goblin's ears twitched at the remark, but he remained composed. "That was an isolated incident," he grumbled. "The Head Auror and the Minister of Magic exploited a gap in the wards—a flaw that has since been corrected."
Scorpius couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at his father's remark. Draco always had a way of finding faults in others' triumphs, especially when it came to matters of the Golden Trio.
As the cart descended deeper, the tunnels began to grow more narrow, the walls of stone giving way to thick, reinforced metal doors with gold-plated handles and complex locking mechanisms. The twisting path took them around tight corners, through narrow passages that Scorpius could swear barely fit the cart. The roar of rushing water echoed in the distance—Gringotts' underground river, a natural barrier that added an extra layer of protection to the vaults.
Draco explained," That waterfall washes away all enchantments. It's called the Thief's downfall."
"Do they still have a fire dragon?" asked Scorpius, curious to know the differences between the books and the epilogue.
"They used to," explained Draco," But it was outlawed by our current minister of magic."
As they zoomed through their path, Scorpius spotted another goblin in another rail, but this goblin was different. He was wearing clothes like the ones worn by the police in the late 18th century. He also had red eyes, looking older and more powerful than the rest.
"Mr.Goblin, do you know who that is?" asked Scorpio.
"That is one of the Goblin Guards. He looks after the vaults belonging to the ancient and noble families." replied the Goblin Banker.
After what felt like an eternity of twists, turns, and near-impossible descents, the cart finally slowed to a stop in front of a massive, imposing vault. The door was engraved with ancient symbols, and Scorpius could feel the powerful wards protecting it—almost suffocating.
The goblin glanced at them before turning to the vault door. "This is your family vault, Master Malfoy. As secure as they come."
Draco's lips curled into a faint smirk. "It had better be," he said, his voice dripping with the usual Malfoy arrogance.
Scorpio suddenly said," Thank you for bringing us here Mr.Goblin. May your coffers be full and your enemies bleed slowly underneath your boots."
The goblin froze for a moment, his long fingers hovering over the intricate mechanisms of the vault. Then, much to Scorpius's surprise, a sharp-toothed grin spread across his face, his pointed ears twitching in approval.
"Well said, young master," the goblin rasped, bowing his head slightly. "And may your gold flow freely, and your enemies tremble at the sound of your name."
Draco turned sharply toward Scorpius, one eyebrow raised in a mixture of surprise and confusion. "What on earth was that about?" he asked, his tone tinged with exasperation.
Scorpius shrugged nonchalantly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes was impossible to miss. "I've always wanted to say something like that. It felt... appropriate."
The goblin chuckled—a sound like grinding stones—and inclined his head again toward Scorpius. "You have a natural understanding of goblin courtesy, young master. Should you require my assistance in the future, my name is Grathnar. Call for me whenever you visit Gringotts."
Scorpius's chest puffed out slightly at the unexpected respect. "Thank you, Mr. Grathnar. I'll remember that."
Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the goblin stepped aside to activate the vault's intricate locking mechanism. He began muttering under his breath about the trials of fatherhood as the vault door began to open with a deep, resonating rumble.