Harry had no idea how he ended up here. One moment, he was raiding the abandoned mansion, and the next thing he knew, he wasn't corporeal. He remained present as he observed his fellow Aurors frantically searched for him. He was there when they reported to Ron that he was missing. He was there when Ron did everything he could to track him down. He was there when Ron returned home to Moine, guilt-stricken, and explained what had happened. He was there as the entire Wizarding World mobilized in search of him.
Months had passed, and Harry had lost all hope of ever returning to normal. On this particular day, he found himself in Diagon Alley, keeping an eye on Rose as the Weasleys shopped for Victoire's first year at Hogwarts. He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings when suddenly, a shock of blond hair caught his eye. A young boy ran straight toward him. It had been so long since anyone had noticed him that it was a shock when the toddler pointed at him and called his name.
Hot on the toddler's heels was someone Harry hadn't seen in years. "Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed, although his words went unheard by the blond who was now busy crouching and reprimanding the toddler—Scorpius, he corrected himself—for running away like that. He watched as Malfoy continued to softly scold him with mixture of relief and confusioned etched his features. The sharpness of his features has softened giving a kind expression Harry would have never associated with Malfoy in the past.
