"Father."

Scorpius voice makes you turn around in your leather chair. He is frowning, but his eyes talk of sadness and not anger.

"What do you need, Scorpius?" you say, trying to not let you be bothered by his interruption, after all, your son should be more important than work.

"What was it like, before... Voldemort?"

You stop your work, remembering your father's words when you were younger than Scorpius. The Dark Lord will come back, Draco.

In your mind, there's no memory before the Dark Lord.

"I don't know, Scorpius."

Word count: 94.

For The Becoming a Wizard Challenge: Being left on the doorstep.