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"Rose, cut it out," Albus said gruffly, gloomily staring at the window. Rose was forcing a chocolate frog to sing a croaky 'Auld Lang Syne' with a few waves of her wand, much to the amusement of James, who was roaring with laughter. Well, there was no guess as to who was going to be the brainiac of their year. Wand still held daintily in midair, she gave him a frown when Albus voiced his annoyance.
"If you're so keen as to spoil mine and your brother's fun, I suggest you change carriages," she replied crossly. "You're being the moodiest person today, Al."
"Seconded," James said with a grin, raising his hand. Rose looked at James pointedly, who slowly lowered it.
He scowled at them. “Why don’t you change carriages? I'm not going give up my seat because you guys are being annoying. Your stupid frog can piss off!" With a final nod, he crossed his arms and resumed his glaring at the window.
There was a hushed silence. He kept his gaze on the passing greenery and he reckoned that they were gathering their stuff, getting ready to just leave him alone, when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned to meet Rose’s concerned eyes.
"Al, what's the matter?" she prodded gently, her face open and understanding. “You’ve been out of it all day.”
“It’s nothing. Just leave me alone.”
“If this is about the Sorting—"
"It's not about the Sorting,” Albus denied. He heard James snort then focused his glare on him.
"I'll be damned if it's not," James said. "That's what you've been worrying about since you've got your acceptance letter, I reckon even since the day you were born! We—we don't care, okay, if you're going into Slytherin. Hell, I'd be more upset if you were placed in Hufflepuff—" At this, Rose gave him a stern look, and James hastily corrected himself. "—just kidding, just kidding. Point is, we'll accept you for who you are, and we'll still love you, even if you murder someone. Whatever happens, you're still our Al.” With that, he bit off the head of a chocolate frog and chewed noisily.
Rose gave James a look of approval, seemingly satisfied. "That's about as much intelligence I've ever heard come out of your mouth, James." She dodged a flying Every Flavour bean and grinned teasingly.
“But he's right,” she said, facing Albus with a sigh. "No matter what, you're still family, you're still my cousin and we still love you. So, don't worry so much." She nudged his shoulder with her own. "Everything's going to be alright.”
Albus looked at the both of them, giving him warm smiles. As much as their talk helped in appeasing his worries, it did not quell the anxiety curling in his stomach. The tension broken, Rose and James resumed their fun, this time pelting each other with Every Flavour beans. Albus shook his head, amused, and swallowed down his unease. As he watched the scenery speed by outside, his throat tightened. It was beginning to darken.
They were almost there.
"Potter, Albus!" squeaked Professor Flitwick.
When they arrived earlier, it was pouring rain, which did not seem like a good omen. The boats that took them to the Castle were filled with an inch of water and Hagrid's face, though familiar and friendly, only made his stomach roll.
Albus felt like throwing up now. Trembling from the damp of his robes and from nervousness, he made his way on to the platform, his shoes squelching, and sat down on the wooden stool. A sea of faces looked expectantly up at him, the Gryffindors at the far left, looking the most hopeful. He caught a glimpse of James mouthing ’Slytherin’ repeatedly, but Teddy, who sat beside him, elbowed him, hard. It seemed like it hurt: James’s face was scrunched up from the assault. Albus chuckled at the sight just as the Hat was put on his head and his vision swallowed by darkness.
"Mmm," he heard someone say, as if from the far distance.
"Oh, that's me, dear boy," said the voice, Albus quickly realizing that it was the Hat itself speaking.
"So, another Potter," the Hat began to ponder. “We all know the history of Potters, don’t we? I can put you in Gryffindor quite easily. No thought to it. But then of course, I can change it up."
No, please, he thought, heeding his Dad's advice back in King's Cross. Please. Anything but Slytherin.
"What's that you say? 'Not in Slytherin?' Your own father asked me the same thing too. It must be genetic." The Hat laughed. Albus’s mouth felt dry. "And another one… My, I forgot his name… Oh yes, Sirius Black. All very brave souls, asking. It takes some nerve to ask what you want. And a temper! Oh, I guess that decides it then.” The Hat sounded disappointed which didn't make any sense. Albus steeled himself. "You are best in ... Gryffindor!"
His jaw fell as the Hat's words re-echoed in his ears. Someone must have removed it because he could see the whole of the Gryffindor table standing, applauding on their feet. Slipping off the chair, he made his way to the table, James ushering him to an empty seat beside him. He winked. "Knew it."
Albus grinned back.
Several students were called up, then it was Rose’s turn on the platform. Albus exchanged glances with James only to find him worriedly chewing his lip. Albus put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance, looking up to the platform.
The Hat was placed on her flaming red hair. After a few seconds of deliberation, the verdict was called out: "Gryffindor!"
A round of enthusiastic applause issued from the Gryffindor Table. Ecstatic, Rose walked to their spot, a bounce in her step.
"Worried for a second there," said Albus jokingly. Rose lit up with laughter as she sat next to him.
Only a few more students were called up after Rose, and Albus could already feel his stomach complaining. When the last student, a sandy hair boy named Eric Zanier, jumped out of the platform to join the Hufflepuffs, Albus was sure he could demolish an entire buffet table. His cutlery was in his hands as Professor Flitwick squeaked, "Anymore? Did I forget someone?" when a small voice answered.
"Me."
All hopes for a speedy meal were dashed. He looked at the offending person in question.
It was a boy. The whiteness of his blonde hair stood out amongst the black of the wizards' robes, his eyes steady and alert as he raised a polite hand to catch Flitwick's attention.
"My dear boy, I apologize." The professor quickly scanned through the list, trying, in vain, to find the boy's name. "Er—and your name is?"
"Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy."
A hush fell on the entire room, voices dimming like a dying candle. Albus looked around, seeing people putting their heads together, whispering unheard words. He didn't have a good feeling about this.
Beside him, James squinted at the boy, who had taken his seat on the stool, hat placed on his head by Flitwick.
“So that's who Uncle Ron was talking about,” James said under his breath, curiosity feathering the edges of his words. “Ha! He's obviously a Slytherin.”
Albus, admittedly, was more concerned for his complaining stomach than this Malfoy's House. He wished that his Sorting would be over, and quickly, so he could get a helping of some much needed mash potatoes.
But a few minutes passed in silence. Then someone nearby whispered, "Do you think it's a hatstall?" and he neither cared nor desired to know what a hatstall was, because he was more interested in filling his empty stomach right about now, thank you very much.
A few more minutes, and Albus could hear his stomach grumbling freely, when someone shouted, "It's a hatstall!"
At the same time, the hat shouted as well, voice resounding in the hall's confines, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Everything around him seemed to be suspended in time, shock evident in people's faces. And then: uproar.
“You mean Slytherin, right?” someone shouted. It came from the next table over.
“His Dad’s a Death Eater!”
“House of the Brave? More like the House of the Coward,” another hissed close to Albus.
There was a bang and then a shower of sparks. “SILENCE!”
The Hall was suddenly deathly silent.
At the front, Malfoy looked terrified. His eyes were wide, posture folding in on himself, like a cornered mouse. Stood up at the Head Table was Professor McGonagall, a disappointed look on her face.
“This behaviour is unacceptable! Especially you, Gryffindors—I expected better.” There were many steel-eyed looks directed her way. “I urge you—all of you—to welcome Mr. Malfoy to your House with as much warmth and acceptance as you do other students. The point of Hogwarts is to build friendships—everyone is welcome here despite their background.” She smiled at Malfoy, still stood on the platform with Professor Flitwick, who was reassuring him with a few quiet squeaks. “Please sit down, Mr. Malfoy. I am sure you would like to eat, as everyone is so eager to do at this time.”
With wide eyes, Malfoy gave a small, stilted nod, then made his way to the Gryffindor table. His face looked expectant, but the Gryffindors only received him with cold indifference. There were a few aborted claps, which quickly died into silence. Albus grit his teeth. How could they?
Malfoy must’ve realized he would not be welcomed in the least. He strode over to the farthest corner of the table, sat down, and buried his face into his hands, making himself as inconspicuous as possible.
“Well, now,” McGonagall said after clearing her throat. “If there aren’t any other missing students—let the feast begin!”
Food appeared out of nowhere on to the golden plates. The incident seemed already forgotten, erased by the smell of freshly cooked pies and steamed vegetables. Chatter sparked up like a stoked flame to fill the Hall. Albus would have marvelled at the mash potatoes, creamy and soft, but there was something curling horribly in his stomach, like a pile of flobberworms he had once found underneath the rocks in the garden back home.
He didn’t feel so hungry anymore. The reaction to Malfoy’s Sorting made him sick.
What did Malfoy had to do with anything? It wasn’t like the war was his fault.
Albus turned to Rose, not surprised to find her observing Malfoy with a sad look on her face. “We should sit with him.”
With a solemn nod, he and Rose stood up and made their way to him.
He still had his face buried in his hands, his pale white hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the warm browns of the hall. His plate was empty. The cutlery wasn’t even moved.
“Erm, hullo?” Albus greeted tentatively when they were stood in front of him. He suddenly felt very awkward. “Erm, Scorpius Malfoy, is it?”
A nod. Then a choked back sob. “Just Scorpius.”
“Well, erm, Scorpius, I’m Albus Potter—or Al, if you want—and this is Rose Weasley, my cousin. Can we sit with you?”
Another nod, white hair catching in the firelight.
They sat, Rose on the other side, him beside Scorpius. The food was untouched in this part, and it was hot and steaming and smelled delicious. It looked even better than Mum’s cooking. Albus eyed it, realizing he actually was hungry, but got a stern glance from Rose his way. He shrugged, innocently.
“Do you want to eat, Scorpius?” asked Rose kindly. “We won’t start until you do.”
Scorpius took his hands out of his face and smiled a watery smile. His eyes were red and puffy. “You can start without me.”
Albus leapt to take the serving spoon and helped himself to some mashed potatoes. “Thanks, mate. I’m absolutely famished.”
Rose gave him another stern glance, but Scorpius laughed shakily.
“You must be really hungry,” Scorpius remarked. His voice was soft, and he talked as if he always kept it in this volume. There was also a lilt of poshness to it, but it wasn’t irritating. Albus quite liked it.
Then Scorpius wiped his face with his sleeves, messily, like a child who couldn’t care less what he looked like. Albus chose to turn a blind eye to that.
“Starving,” Albus replied, returning to his food. “I didn’t eat that much during the train ride.” He was about to say why, that he was worried he’d be placed in Slytherin, but then thought better of it. There was a time and place, and right now decidedly was not it. “I can eat a whole dragon whole, probably.”
“No one can rival your hunger, Al,” Rose replied, skewering a sausage just as Albus gobbled a spoonful of mash. “You know, last Christmas, he ate three boxes of Cauldron Cakes in one sitting?”
Scorpius was staring at him incredulously.
Albus shrugged. “James dared me to,” he justified, mouth full. “And I was hungry.”
This instigated a conversation about Albus’s insatiable hunger, to which Rose would recount with amazing detail when and where these foods were consumed. Scorpius didn’t talk much, but that was fine with Albus, because Scorpius was smiling and, finally, had taken a slice of steak-and-kidney pie to be eaten. Scorpius was devouring it with much gusto.
Albus was denying ever having eaten one whole turkey that Rose insisted he had during New Years—he hated turkey, thank you very much—when he saw Scorpius’s gaze flit down and his cheerful face drop.
Rose noticed too. “Scorpius? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s silly.” He shook his head sadly. “I—I just thought I'd be in Slytherin, like my Dad you know,” he said, so honestly and with such miserableness that Albus wanted to gather him in a hug.
“Who cares what he thinks?” Rose said haughtily. “It’s already happened. He can’t do anything about it.”
Sometimes, Rose could be too honest. Albus frowned at her.
“Yeah, but to some people it’s important,” Albus pointed out. “Many people actually care, you know.”
Scorpius looked down. Then the words were spilling. “I thought that when I sat down that it would immediately Sort me in it. That’s how my Dad told me how his Sorting went. And my Dad… he had all these stories of Slytherin House being his second home. He told me about the common rooms in the dungeons, the pranks he played on Professor Snape. That I’d have the time of my life there with my other Slytherin friends. But no… the Hat didn’t even consider Slytherin as an option! It wanted to put me in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. I was arguing with it to put me in Slytherin, actually. I was begging it. But it decided on… this.”
“We’re not all bad,” Albus said.
“No, I suppose not,” Scorpius mused. He smiled. “Both of you are proof of that.”
Rose chimed in. “Albus’s brother James, he’s nice too—Oh, look, here he comes. Hullo James!”
James was striding over to them with a glint in his eye. Something didn’t feel right.
“Come to lure my brother and cousin to the Dark side, Malfoy?” James asked nastily.
Scorpius blinked, grey eyes wide. “What?”
“James, shut up,” Albus snapped. “Scorpius is our friend.”
“Friend? You’re not supposed to be friends with him,” James replied, gritting his teeth. “He’s our enemy. Or did you charm them, Malfoy? Used Dark Magic to make them like you?”
“There are no charms nor Dark Magic involved,” Rose said, frowning. “We like him because he’s nice. Unlike you. You’re acting horribly, James. Really.”
“You heard what Uncle Ron said.”
“That was a joke and you know it,” said Rose severely. "And how did you know about that? You weren't there when Dad said all that stuff!”
James ignored her and pointed an accusing finger at Scorpius. Around them, a few people had stopped eating and were murmuring, heads turned their way to see what the commotion was about.
"His dad is evil, and maybe he is too,” James proclaimed. "His dad was in league with You-Know-Who—“
“Voldemort is dead,” Albus stated. He heard several gasps. He snorted. “I’ll eat my wizard’s hat if Scorpius is evil. Come on, Scorpius, let’s—“
But James had his wand held aloft, pointing it Scorpius. It was all moving so fast that Albus didn’t realize that James’s lips were forming the words "Stupefy!" but Rose cut him halfway with a cry of, "Protego!"
An invisible barrier separated them and a struggling James. Albus stared. Beside him, Scorpius looked equally shocked.
"Let me go!" cried James, beating at the barrier with his fists. "Let me go this instant!"
"That will do," said Professor McGonagall beside them. Albus nearly jumped. ”I have never seen behaviour like this! And on the first day! Five points from Gryffindor and detention, Mr. Potter!"
James looked like he was going to object but McGonagall gave him a sharp glance.
She looked over to Rose. “And ten points to Ms. Weasley, for protecting Mr. Malfoy from an unnecessary spell. You may release him, Ms. Weasley.”
With a wave of Rose’s wand, the barrier vanished, knocking James to the floor. McGonagall surveyed James again, who had stood up and was brushing himself off, frowning. More students seemed to have caught wind that something was going on, some standing to catch a glimpse of what was happening. “Now, run along now, Mr. Potter,” she urged, walking back to the Head Table. “I’m sure your brother and Ms. Weasley would like to continue their supper with Mr. Malfoy in peace.”
Albus did not miss the nasty look James gave them, but he was glad he was out of their sight. He was going to have a word with his brother soon. Aggressively skewering a sausage in his plate, he told Scorpius as such.
“Thank you,” Scorpius said, very softly. He wasn’t looking at any of them. “Thank you for standing up for me. Even if he’s your brother.”
Albus couldn't believe he was saying this.
“Of course! James was being an idiot!” Albus said, seething. Scorpius finally looked up. His eyes were fond, a sheepish smile on his mouth. Albus felt warm from his gaze and turned his attention to his food. “I’ll clobber him in the head as soon as I see him.”
“Don’t clobber him over the head,” Scorpius admonished. “It’s not worth it. You can get in trouble with your parents.”
Rose frowned at her plate. “I’m sure he’ll come around. You’ll talk to him, won’t you, Al?”
Albus took a ferocious bite of the sausage. “Yeah, I will. I’ll talk to him.”
“No head clobbering,” Scorpius reminded him.
“I swear on Merlin’s beard,” Albus promised. His attention fell to his cousin. “Rose, can you teach me the Bat-Bogey hex?”
“Al!” cried Rose, the same time Scorpius exclaimed, “Albus!”
“What? You didn’t say I couldn’t hex him."
Scorpius, despite himself, was tamping down a grin. “No hurting your brother in any way,” he clarified.
“I can teach you the Shield charm,” Rose offered. “I can teach it to both of you, actually. We don’t know when James will strike again.”
“I already know how to do it,” Scorpius said. Albus pouted. He couldn’t even do the simple Levitation Charm his Dad tried teaching him when he got his wand. Now his best friends had to be the two brightest students in his year?
Rose leaned in, curiosity lining her face. “Oh, really? Do you know any other ones?”
“I learned the Tickling Spell just recently,” Scorpius answered. “I’m sure that will come in handy.”
A foot nudged Albus’s. He looked up. Scorpius grinned at him. He grinned back. There was an exasperated sigh. Rose was shaking her head at the both of them.
“You both are going to lose us a ton of Points,” she shuddered.
Albus put on the most innocent face he could muster. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t say we couldn’t prank James,” Scorpius pointed out.
“I suppose you’re right,” Rose sighed. “I can just transfigure his hair to green, you know. That’s easier than surprising him with a Tickling Spell.”
“What if we do both?” suggested Scorpius, a playful glint in his eye.
They all laughed, imagining a green-haired James being tickled non-stop in his bedroom. In this vision, Albus likened his head to a well-trimmed bush, like in those fancy estate gardens. He described it to them both, and they all fell into a fit of harder giggles. When they were quieting down, wiping the tears from their eyes, Albus turned to find Scorpius, grinning as hard as him. It hit Albus with a surety that they were going to be the best of friends.
He had no doubt they would be for a long time.