Draco Malfoy regretted a lot of things from his younger years. His fathers dark influence damage him greatly. He swore, that whenever he had a son, he would never put him through what he did.

Many of his school friends sympathized him though, they said he was the boy that made the wrong choices, but they forgive him. Draco knew they were wrong; he didn't make the wrong choices, he never got to make his choices.

One night while lying drunk in his mansion, Draco stared at the Dark Mark on his forearm; hating what it meant, hated the memories. In blind rage, he tried to burn it off, only achieving very severe burns. They healed, but the scars stayed, always would.

****

When Scorpius was ten, he saw a strange looking mark on his fathers arm when his sleeves slipped a little too far.

"Father, what happened to your arm?" he asked innocently.

Draco glanced sadly at his exposed arm, then at Scorpius, before exiting the room.

"Your father had a bad past he would rather forget. You'll understand when you are older." Astoria said kindly, taking her sons hands in her. "Best not to bring it up again."

Scorpius nodded slowly before looking towards the door his father went through.

"Yes mother." Scorpius said, before heading outside for a walk in the grand garden.