4.4 The Hidden Journal

To Whom It May Concern:

It is considered extremely rude to read someone else’s journal, which is what you're doing right now. Put it back where you found it immediately.

Scorpius smirked, wondering if instructions like that would work on anyone? No, book; Scorpius Malfoy would NOT put you back, immediately or otherwise. He continued reading.

To Whom It May Concern:

I can only assume that since you are still reading this journal, you believe yourself to be above the rules of common decency. I feel very sorry for your mother having raised a child as rude as you are.

In actual fact the journal was right. Scorpius did tend to believe himself above anything at all considered common, but he hardly thought it was fair to assume him rude. It was a book. In a library. There was nothing odd about him reading it, or rude. And his mother had raised him very well, thank you very much, book.

Dear Interloper,

I was quite assured last year, during the Horrible Incident in which my own cousin stole my journal from beneath my mattress and read snippets aloud in the common room, that I am the most boring person alive and that no one with a life of their own would be remotely interested in my day-to-day or the things I feel pertinent enough to record. If that is true, and if you are still reading this journal in spite of the fact that it is rude and invasive, I might as well offer one last warning: you probably have better things to do than read my thoughts and activities. After said Horrible Incident, I bought a charmed journal and found a new location to hide it in order to discourage the extreme lengths curiosity will lead those of my own blood. As all the old and boring entries have been transferred over via copying charms, you should be prepared to be very bored in short order. There is neither scandal nor salty language in this journal, nor have I had time or desire to cultivate a great romance at this point in my life.

All in all, if you persist in reading that which is clearly not your business, I must warn you: prepare yourself for extreme boredom and disappointment.

This journal and its author clearly needed to be taken down a peg or two. Scorpius, ever obliging, would do so simply by reading it in spite of the stupid warnings. If it was too boring to read, then he'd stop because he wanted to and not because some bloody journal insisted it was nobody's business. He'd already figured out a thing or two about whoever the owner was. Trumped up opinion of themselves, possessing of at least one unsavoury family member, female (after all, there was that 'Great Romance' bit), bossy. Definitely that last one. He pulled a disparaging face at the book and turned the page to the first entry.

1 September 2017

Breakfast:
1 egg, scrambled
1 slice of bread, lightly toasted, served with butter and marmalade
1 glass, milk
2 strips, bacon

I am not exactly sure how this whole journal thing goes. L insists that any proper girl must keep a diary for all her adventures and love affairs, which is a bit frightening from a 9-year-old. I don’t think I can keep anything so frivolous (isn’t that a marvelous word?) as a diary, but a journal is quite alright. Even Aunt G keeps a journal, and she’s worked as a actual writer for years and years. Mum bought me this little lined book, even though I never would have asked for it myself. Everyone is so uptight about journals in this family, which is why L continues to beg for one unsuccessfully. She likes the ones with the tiny heart-shaped lock and even tinier key, but Aunt G absolutely refuses.

It seems very Romantic to write letters to oneself. Not in the kissy-face way, but in the Heathcliff on the moors sort of way. (Yes, I’ve read that book, although I think it would scandalize Dad tremendously. People dying for love and all that codswallop). Except maybe that isn’t the way Mum wanted me to use this book. Suppose I’m supposed to keep track of my homework and such in here, and she would think it self-indulgent to spend two WHOLE paragraphs worrying over what to write. I doubt she’d ever ask to see what I write about, but sometimes I feel that she just knows things.

Down to business, then. We’re leaving for the train station in a few minutes, and I’ll be on my way to Hogwarts for the first time. We’re taking the car, which is why Dad and H keep walking around it in the driveway, kicking at the tires and talking loudly about ‘horsepowers’. I don’t know what a horsepower is, and I’m pretty sure Dad doesn’t either. I spent all weekend packing my trunk, but, even though I used the checklist she provided, Mum has unpacked it twice to make sure I’m not forgetting anything. She even colorcoded my packing list and stuck it inside the lid of the trunk. As if I need an alphabetical listing of which pajamas and socks I’m taking.

I wish we’d just GO already. My stomach is full of snitches.

Scorpius read through the first entry once and then again and slower having taken particular note of the date. Whoever wrote this wasn't just at the school now, they had, by the date, been sorted at the exact same time as him. Well that was interesting enough. He considered the warnings at the start of the journal and the note that the old entries had been transferred into it from whatever original book held them, and wondered at why the author had felt it necessary. Maybe there was something useful in here, or why waste the time and effort let alone the paper?

Continuing to read, Scorpius spent a moment scoffing at the journal. Wuthering Heights! He knew it was a girl, just knew it. Didn't even need the writer to confirm it when there was stuff like that peppered throughout. Never mind that Scorpius caught the reference and understood it. The library at home was expansive, that was all that meant. Not that he had to justify himself to a journal. He had his own moment of introspection, recalling that first trip to Kings Cross. His father certainly hadn't taken him by car. Who did that, honestly? Might as well just make it go all the way there like a muggle. What did they call that again? Driving! Might as well just drive it all the way to Hogsmeade instead of taking up space on the express. He raised one eyebrow. These people were obviously bonkers. Horses had nothing to do with cars. And horses with powers were obviously magical horses. Flying horses made far more sense as a method of transportation in Scorp's eyes. He continued reading.

Lunch:
1 sandwich, corned beef
1 grape soda
1 chocolate frog (Card: Hermione Granger. Is that supposed to be comforting?)

I keep remembering that Mum and Dad met each other on their very first train ride, and that Dad met his very best friend in the train station beforehand. Every single person I look at, I keep thinking ‘are we going to be friends?’ and then ‘oh, Merlin, I hope I don’t have to fall in love with you someday.’ The very first person we met when we got here was this extremely short boy with a squashed-puppy face, and if he’s my soul mate, then I am very disappointed in the state of my soul. I expected so much more.

Mum keeps reminding me, “You’re going to have a lovely time. Don’t worry if you don’t make any friends at first. People are intimidated by brainy women.” And SO ON. And then Dad says, “Avoid mountain trolls. And if you’re sorted into Slytherin, don’t bother coming home for Christmas.” I know he’s JOKING, but Mum gets all frantic and starts touching my hair and sighing.

I don’t think my brother knows how to keep them from making each other crazy. What will they do without me?

In spite of Mom’s fretting, as soon as A shows up, I remember that I’m not going to school without friends. I’m going to school with my best friend since we were wearing diapers, practically. He’s worried too, I can tell, and it makes me feel brave inside. I always feel brave when A is scared, because I know it’s my job to make sure we end up right in the end. And I’m going to make sure A and I end up right at Hogwarts, and we get into Gryffindor together, and that we get the best grades possible, and that someday we’re Head Girl and Head Boy together.

We’re on the train now, and I ought to put this away and go look around a bit with A. Now that we've eaten the lunch his mum packed, he’s impatient to see things, and if I don’t go with him, he might not make it back to our car in time to change into his robes later. Not sure if I’m even doing this journal thing right, but it seems awfully time consuming.

Why was he still reading this? Why was this girl writing her food down? Dieting? Whoever she was would have been eleven or twelve, since obviously they were sorted when he was, according to the dates that the journal oh so courteously provided. The mere mention of 'dinner' instantly made Scorp's stomach gurgle in response. Well he'd just have to get something later, since rolling into the Great Hall during meal time was never a good look, and always garnered unwanted attention from professors and prefects alike, though he supposed he could use Quidditch Captain business as an excuse. That was one he preferred not to overuse though, Scorpius Malfoy wasn't one to cry werewolf so to speak. He went back to reading and the journal got a bit of a stare at this whole 'if you’re sorted into Slytherin, don’t bother coming home for Christmas' business. Gryffindor. Well. That cleared things up. His eyebrows went up at the mention of Head Boy and Head Girl. The only person he could think of in his year that was actively angling to be head was Yates Shacklebolt. Or maybe not so much angling as expecting it on a silver platter, something Scorpius wouldn't mind seeing thwarted. Something he wouldn't mind having a hand in thwarting actually, as long as there were no repercussions on him of course.

His stomach was being insistent with its hunger pains now so Scorpius closed the journal. The disclaimer had been a little bit right, about the boring stuff, but he still wanted to come back and read a bit more, see if he could figure out who it was and maybe find out something useful. For now though, he shut the journal and carefully placed it in the alcove, exactly as he had found it. The shelf was replaced and Scorpius checked to see that he'd left everything just so. Satisfied with his efforts, he decided to head to the kitchens and bribe a house elf to provide him with something to eat in his dorm and puzzle over who could possibly be the journal's owner and how he might make use of that information.

5.3 Have Something Orange
Less than a week after the first Hogsmeade Weekend and Halloween fever had begun to spread at Hogwarts, particularly amongst the younger students who seemed to go a little bit mad participating in the Halloween related activities that had been cooked up by the faculty. Jack-o-lanterns, apple bobbing, and decorating the Great Hall with orange streamers and live bats were all part of the line up in the days immediately preceding Halloween, and speculation about what entertainment would be provided at the feast became a popular pastime for those students not madly studying or preparing for the upcoming Quidditch season, due to start with a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin on the upcoming Saturday. A week. Scorpius reminded himself. One week to get his team ready. They'd been selected only a few weeks ago and were still getting that balance of playing together. His new Seeker, Coraline Shettigar was good but inexperienced. All teams save Gryfffindor had a brand spanking new Seeker in their line ups, but that didn't help Scorpius since they'd be facing Gryffindor first and even though James Potter wasn't as much of a dynamo on the field as he thought he was, he did have experience and that counted for a lot.

It was Wednesday now and Scorpius had just finished running a harrowing practice for the Slytherins. Most of his team preferred to go straight to the Great Hall for dinner and eat in their Quidditch robes, but Scorpius always showered first and so he pushed open the double doors and stepped into the hall a little late but refreshed, hair still slightly damp from bathing. He'd not bothered with robes, though he changed back into the rest of his school uniform, sleeves rolled up neatly and tie pulled a little loose, but otherwise fresh and crisp and not crumpled at all despite being at the end of the day. It was, of course, a rule to come to meal times in your uniform. Quidditch robes were the only acceptable alternative. Luckily small talk was unnecessary since most everyone was stuffing their faces at this point of the meal, though boisterous conversation could still be heard in different degrees from all four tables as an accompaniment to the food.

It wasn't even quite Halloween yet but it seemed to Scorpius that there was an inordinate amount of food that was incredibly and disgustingly orange. He found colour coordinated food to be unsettling and eyed it in mild distaste as he tried to decide what to eat first.

"What did the pumpkin pie ever do to you, Scorchie?" Acantha stretched past several other students in order to rub his hair as she addressed him, causing several strands of it to stand up straight from the resulting static. It was baby fine and since it was drying unevenly, most of it stayed put, which Scorp was thankful for. Still, he was in an alright mood and managed a smile at his oldest cousin.

"Nothing its just that all that orange tricks my mind into thinking everything tastes exactly the same. Its never as good when it all blends together on your plate. Everything is better with a bit of variety." Scorpius was filling his plate even as he spoke and glanced up at her grimace of mock horror.

"Perish the thought, Scorch!" There was that nickname again. "Some things would be far better if there were less colours invading the spectrum. For instance, if the entire school was full of Slytherin students." She gestured grandly and somehow the movement dissolved into a sinuous stretch that had much of the male population at the Slytherin table and nearby Ravenclaw table, turning to look.

A grunt from nearby. "You'd get bored, Zabini." It was Montague, seventh year prefect and one of the Slytherin Beaters. He had a point, Scorpius thought.

"I wouldn't." She insisted. "It would be lovely."

Scorpius followed the superior look that she directed across the hall and decided that she could only be eyeing the Head Boy who was currently in a competition with several delighted looking first and second years, trying to eat their food from their plates without using their hands. Or, well, from what Scorpius could see, they were using their hands, only to do things completely unrelated to the process of eating. Things like a sudden burst of spontaneous applause, or tickling the person next to them or -was Fred Weasley trying to juggle?- how odd. Scorpius tore his eyes away and measured Acantha's disgusted expression as Hugo Weasley leaned over and dumped an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice over the Head Boy's dark curls, some pulp sticking there in little globules that didn't seem to bother the boy in the slightest. Fred simply kept eating and then sat up, fists in the air as if he'd apparently won some sort of contest. There were cheers from the Gryffindor table and Scorp decided that Merpeople made far more sense than Gryffindors when it came to how they kept one another entertained.

"On second thoughts, perhaps you're right about all that orange, Scorpius."

He licked some sauce from the pad of his thumb and eyed Acantha askance, choosing not to comment. A rattle of chains directed the conversation elsewhere as the Bloody Baron made an appearance down the table and chose a seat next to a terrified looking first year who clutched their goblet with a death grip that turned their knuckles white. Nera, who was sitting at that end, surrounded by a gaggle of Slytherin girls, reached over and neatly plucked the poor abused goblet from the child's hand and gave him a comforting smile before greeting the Baron with delight. Nera had taken to the Baron immediately upon meeting the blood-coated ghost and Scorpius still privately thought she was mad for it. It wasn't that Scorpius disliked ghosts, he just found them unnecessary and tended to avoid them where he could. He certainly had not chosen to take up Ghoul Studies, an after hours class which was available for those few NEWT students who thought they might be interested. Nera said they mostly sat around and chatted with those spirits which called Hogwarts home. Scorpius imagined it would be much like spending time talking to elderly relatives who had rambling, nonsensical stories punctuated with names of people who had died before you were born and it was never quite clarified if said dead people were important to the story or relevant to you in any way. Nera informed him he was mistaken and actually it was much like History of Magic and that it was a pity he hadn't signed up because she was sure that he'd enjoy it immensely.

Sometimes Scorpius wondered if she really knew him at all.

Instead of Ghoul Studies, Scorpius had chosen to take an after hours Alchemy class which would be tonight before curfew. With only a handful of other sixth years since it was an elective course that required high grades in Potions and Charms as well as written permission to participate from the individual student's Head of House. Atra had allowed Scorp to attend with very little convincing needed. That was a man aware completely of the strengths and weaknesses of all the students under his care and guidance. His mind wandered even as he continued his dinner, eating with careful manners that were almost out of place in the rowdy Great Hall where savages were only barely kept in line by those prefects who hadn't quite descended into the same madness.

"What is she looking at I wonder?" Acantha was still watching the Gryffindor table and she snapped her teeth threateningly. It would have been alarming if it hadn't been funny. Scorpius grinned at his cousin and then followed her line of sight, trying to figure out who she was currently staring down. Lily Potter. Fourth year. Scorpius always thought she looked rather vapid.

"Aww, leave her be, Acantha. She's probably heard a million and one horror stories about us by now." Scorpius leaned past Acantha's dorm mates, Jora Cram and Archana Kartik to slide her a slice of pie. "Here, have something orange, it will make you feel better."

Acantha eyed him. "You have something orange, Scorpius. You're looking peaky." She leaned past her fellow seventh years and placed a goblet of pumpkin juice in front of him.

"Oh no, I insist." Scorp's next offering was a spoonful of mashed carrot, which he grandly served to Acantha's plate. "It goes so well with your badge."

"I think it goes better with your own badge, Scorchiepants." Oh she was so sweet. Dripping with it. Next to him Archana stiffled a laugh, presumably at the nickname and Scorpius wondered if the girl knew its origins. It wouldn't surprise him.

He presented an apricot to her with a flourish and from there it only got more and more ridiculous until both of them had plates stacked with a horrifying mix of orange food that did not go together in the slightest, and several other students had joined in .

"No you have something orange."

"Oh no, I insist. Orange for you."

Scorpius was laughing by the time it was done and he vanished the plateful of food in front of him, unable to look at the quickly congealing, orange mess of it.

From the Ravenclaw table, where they had earned an audience, Christine Macmillian, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, turned to face him and leaned towards the Slytherin table

"Oh poor deprived Slytherins, you don't even know how to have a food fight properly." Her husky voice was teasing and her eyes sparkled as she spoke up to be heard. She was actually the only one of his fellow Captains this term that Scorpius didn't outright hate. It had been no surprise when she was appointed to replace Billy Boot.

"Maybe not in a traditional sense." Scorpius licked a stray fluff of mashed carrot from the knuckle of his pinky finger, unconcerned by what was good natured ribbing. If it were Sloper or Potter he'd show them how well he could throw food. Oh wait, he'd already shown Potter that this term. He smiled again. "But our way is less messy isn't it? Think of it this way, Ravenclaw table, being in close proximity to our own, would likely suffer some collateral damage. So its purely out of the goodness of our collective, slimy hearts that we adjusted the rules. For you, Ravenclaw." He gestured widely, including Mei Wyman, Gracie Egerton and Alyson Sutton in the motion and good naturedly smiling at them all. He stood up and walked around the end of the table, then took up a seat on the opposite side, though he faced the Ravenclaws and kept his back to his own table as it began to empty.

"I would hate to get pumpkin in my hair. You're my hero, Malfoy." Christine told him, rolling her eyes.

"Mine too." Mei added and giggled prettily, attempting to wind a short, glossy lock around her finger, but her pixie cut made the motion next to impossible.

"As long as you don't make a mess." Gracie sounded doubtful, but a hesitant smile curled her lips.

Alyson was the only one who didn't seem amused. She sniffed and pouted and tried to pretend like she was doing something else, but Scorpius was used to that now. He'd learned the previous year that dumping a Ravenclaw wasn't easy and tended to have lingering results. It was like she'd taken it personally or something.

"Did you finish the pre-reading for class, Scorpius?" Mei leaned towards him to ask.

But before he could answer, an interruption in the form of Yates Shacklebolt appeared between the two tables and Scorpius forced himself to give the Gryffindor a pleasant smile, which contrasted nicely and made Shacklebolt's glower look unreasonable.

"Come on, Mei." He battled to ignore Scorpius. "We're going to the library." Shacklebolt did have smiles for Mei, but they seemed forced in Scorp's eyes. Mei Wyman was all sweet smiles as she extracted herself from the Ravenclaw table and hooked her arm around Shacklebolt's.

"I'll see you later, Scorpius." She told him and Scorp's eyes immediately flickered to Yates's face, even as he answered.

"Right. Eight sharp. I'll save you a seat." Possibly he was pushing it and Yates would snap. Possibly it was worth it. Mei was in Scorp's Alchemy class, as was Gracie who she usually sat with. The Ravenclaw prefect was currently sitting there looking sweetly confused, eyes flicking between the others and finally coming to a rest on Shacklebolt as he shot Scorpius a dirty look and led his girlfriend away.

They all watched their retreating backs and Scorpius was surprised when Gracie spoke.

"I don't like him." She said thoughtfully.

Christine and Alyson looked equally surprised and Scorpius decided it was time to take his own leave rather than hang around and hear the way the two girls defended Yates and sung his praises. He left the Great Hall without saying goodbye and was almost immediately tackled by Barnaby Goyle. It was a friendly tackle but it still almost wiped Scorpius off his feat. Goyle could be a bit like a trained crup sometimes. He even got violent on cue. Apollo was standing nearby, grinning in a way that had Scorpius assuming that he'd put the bigger boy up to it.

"You should shower. He told Goyle. Who was still in his Quidditch gear. It was partly a dismissal as he started towards the common room.

"So." Apollo fell into step beside him. "Are you ever going to explain that whole Scorchiepants business?" Apollo gave a stray jack-o-lantern a kick and sent it careening into the wall, where it imploded, the candle within extinguishing itself immediately. Safety charms. Apollo ignored it. Scorpius shook his head and straightened his tie.

"Not any time soon." Nobody needed to know that.

6.1 easier to find if you’re a little lost
"Tams, would you mind moving just a little bit?" Scorpius, growing a bit exasperated, turned to the Slytherin girl, who was practically in his lap, and severely impeding his intention to eat breakfast. He was mostly lost in thought, ruminating over the Quidditch loss so he didn’t see Tamsin gaping at him as if she was surprised that he wasn’t somehow flattered by her attempts to distract him. He glanced up and elaborated in a carefully polite voice, "I'd quite like my leg back, it is a bit numb, and really I'm much too tired to do anything-" he paused as he mentally decided what to start with "-apart from eat."

There were a few quiet snickers at the shutdown, but Scorpius barely noticed. The sixth year was torn between blaming himself and internally raging about his teammates. He certainly wasn’t interested in snogging Tamsin Urquhart right then. He didn’t want a consolation prize; he wanted to win Quidditch games. It’d be easier to blame the other Slytherin players or perhaps mentally justify the loss by accusing that blasted James Potter and the other Gryffindor players of cheating somehow, but realistically he knew that was futile. They’d played better. It was simple, and really as captain Scorpius was just as responsible for any of his team member’s weaknesses as they were as individuals. He was certainly the one who would be taking the fall so to speak. Slytherin’s student leaders had regular meetings and his peers would hold him accountable.

The draw meant that it’d be a few weekends before they were due to play again, plenty of time to really work on what wasn’t working. He felt so on edge, like he was going to implode or something, but he was so tired that he was sure he didn’t have the energy for it. The strange part about it all was that he was sure there was a moment there, during the game, where he’d just flaked out, his thoughts had wandered elsewhere. He had suddenly been thinking of a different game, a different time, and while getting lost in a memory wasn’t a bad thing exactly, there was a time and a place for daydreaming. He had to brush it off; he wouldn’t let it happen again. His tension was obvious to the more observant of his housemates, obviously Tamsin wasn’t one of those people and she pointedly moved a few seats away, in a snit with him.

Scorpius found a trace of resolve and proceeded to eat, trying to ignore everyone or risk having a fit. On the surface he appeared calm and collected, even distant. Apollo was watching him closely but hadn't yet said a thing. During the match it had been as if he was transported back to his very first Quidditch game, in second year. He felt the same rush of excitement and nerves, and for a second or two he could have sworn that Ryuu Haneda, his former Quidditch Captain was there and shouting orders. But the only Haneda there had been Takeshi of course. Despite spacing out for a few minutes, Scorp had managed a couple of goals, but he'd had to work hard for them, scoring only twice off four attempts. Unusual for him. Pucey had managed three and Hightower four. The game hadn't been lost due to lack of scoring ability, it was simply because James Potter had caught the snitch before Slytherin's Coraline Shettigar could even blink. She was subdued at the end of the table, the third year clearly taking the defeat hard, blaming herself. She sported more than a few bruises since Potter wasn't one to go easy on a fellow seeker just because they were younger and smaller and had nudged her out of the way a few times. It was hard having a brand new seeker but he had faith in his ability to put a team together. If she wasn't good enough it meant he shouldn't have picked her. His responsibility. She was good enough though. Scorp vowed to work with her. Help her find that confidence.

There was silence at the Slytherin table. Coming down from the high of the previous term’s Quidditch cup win wasn’t an experience that any Slytherin relished, and in the case of the snakes, false commiseration was unwelcome. The entire team, those who had played and those who had been on the bench, were varying degrees of sullen and snappish. Hearing the cheerful and boisterous voices of the Gryffindors didn’t much help matters. Scorpius knew he should say something, but he couldn't bring himself to search for the words yet. In fact, he actually quite liked the idea of being alone with his thoughts. Being as his morning was free, Scorpius buttered some toast and added honey, then took his breakfast with him as he left the great hall. The library would probably be pretty quiet, it was still early.

It didn't take long for Scorpius to get there, and he headed right to a certain dusty section where there just so happened to be a journal hidden away. He needed something mindless to distract him from everything, preferably something mindless that didn't talk back, which was why an inanimate object was a good choice. He hooked the journal out of its hiding place and rather than sit there amongst the dusty magical language books, he tucked it under his arm and found a comfortable chair right under the stained glass windows, choosing an out-of-the-way corner so that he would be relatively unexposed and hopefully left alone. He sat down and opened the book, choosing to pick up where he had left off. It was boring, sure, but that was exactly what he needed right at that moment.

1 September 2017

Dinner:
Too much to list!!!

I don’t think I ever really believed Dad’s stories about the food at Hogwarts, but truly, I’ve never seen so much food in my entire life. Not even at family Christmas, when the house is so stuffed with people that we have to set up tents in the backyard, and Gram spends days working on that Christmas dinner.

Huh. Scorpius couldn't imagine living in a house so small that people would need to stay in tents outside. He also couldn't imagine ever having enough family visit that would make it an issue.

The best part about the feast, though, is that it comes after the Sorting. I felt so ill when we got off the train, and J was just making it worse by telling horrible LIES about what we were going to have to go through. Even thought I knew exactly what was going to happen, I was still nervous. Dad was kidding when he said I had to get into Gryffindor, but that’s still the house I wanted.

Ravenclaw wouldn’t be bad, I suppose. Hufflepuffs seem terribly friendly and gave all their new housemates a standing ovation as they were sorted, but I think I’d find it dreadful. Dad says you can’t trust people who smile that much, not to mention they have to wear so much yellow! Forget what they say about redheads and pink - yellow makes me look like I’m suffering jaundice.

In spite of Dad, I think Slytherin wouldn’t be half bad. I'm pretty sure that's where A expected to end up, and I really only wanted to be with him in the end. Besides, no one in our family has been a Slytherin for ages, so there wouldn’t be any comparing. Downside, of course, is they probably get trained at birth to hate us. Little flash cards of who to glare at over dinner every night, which is silly since I only just met the lot and they shouldn’t have reason not to like me yet.

I met one on the train, only briefly, called Nera Zabini. I actually had the thought that she seemed just the sort of girl that might be an interesting friend, but then her sister saw J and said, “Oh, that’s a WEASLEY” like it was a disease or something. And they hurried away as if being ginger and freckled was catching. Rude.

Scorpius had his eyes narrowed at the hypocrisy of the idea that Slytherins were the judgmental ones. It was just part of their nature not to immediately trust people who were too reckless, too friendly, or too smart for their own good. And from what he knew from talking to his parents and grandparents, all of whom had been Slytherin, things were different now. He couldn't say better exactly, but for sure it seemed to Scorpius that being Slytherin or from a Slytherin family automatically lost you brownie points in the eyes of anyone who considered themselves or their family to be on the winning side in the last war, regardless of whether or not the Slytherin individual had anything to do with any of it personally. He was thinking about this so busily that at first he did not pick up on the mention of red hair, which would have begun to narrow the field about who owned the journal since there weren't a great number of them. Scorpius kept reading and let out an exclamation both at mention of Nera and the revelation that this particular journal belonged to a Weasley. He sat bolt upright and stared at the page in horror, blinking not at the words but at the general thought that he'd been reading... well his year, it had to be Rose Weasley's diary. He flipped back and skimmed the parts he'd read already. So A was Albus Potter, J was James Potter, H had to be Hugo Weasley and was L the little one? Lily Potter? Merlin.

He let out a breath and slouched back in the chair again, not entirely sure if he wanted insight into Rose Weasley's mind, despite the fact that he hadn't quite figured out what in Salazar's name had actually driven her sit with him in potions class back before try outs. He'd decided to be done worrying about that but now he found that he'd been reading her bloody diary! He told himself that the only reason that he was going to keep reading -just to the end of the entry mind you- was because it had mentioned Nera and he owed it to his cousin to make sure that Weasley didn't say anything she shouldn't about his cousin. A deep breath and he eyed the page again.

I did meet a nice girl called Jayne while we were still on the train. At first, I thought she was the dullest person I ever met, and I hoped she’d be a Hufflepuff and have to wear yellow forever. She complained for a full ten minutes about how unfair it was that first years couldn’t have a broom at Hogwarts and then she fell asleep on A’s robes, so he couldn’t get changed right away!

But then she got sorted to Gryffindor with A and me, and she told the FUNNIEST story about the time she went to a Quidditch match and the Snitch got caught up under the bleachers. The winning Seeker thought to use his broom as a lever to pry up the seating, and just as the Snitch escaped so he could catch it, his broom splintered. She even had F and J laughing, and J said she was a pip.

Anyway, the Sorting: A went ahead of me, of course, and when he made it into Gryffindor, I knew I had to make it, too. So when it was my turn to wear the hat, I just told it that I was sorry to hurt its feelings and all, but I just HAD to be a Gryffindor. It said this weird thing, though. “You’ll be easier to find if you’re a little lost.”

But I said no, no, I have to be with A because he needs me. And the Hat went quiet for a while, and I was worried I’d be a hatstall like Scorpius Malfoy had been, but then it finally said, ‘Yes, alright, if you’re sure.’ And I was a Gryffindor. And everyone clapped, and the Gryffindors cheered, and so did Vic and Dom and Molly and Louis at the Ravenclaw table.

And then we had dinner, which was marvelous.

“You’ll be easier to find if you’re a little lost.” Scorp murmured out loud, not sure why the sentence struck a chord with him, then he scowled at mention of his own name and the subsequent flash of memory it evoked about his own sorting. Being a hatstall wasn't exactly something that he was proud of. It still made him nervous, not knowing what that meant about him, about the bits of his personality that drove that blasted hat to indecision for long enough that he'd gone numb from sitting on the stool.

After dinner, they took us to the common rooms for the first time. I don’t think there is a more beautiful room in the castle, and it’s special to just us because only Gryffindors are allowed in here. J and F said that firsties have to stay up all night the first night to prove we belong in the house. I knew they were lying, but it was so nice to curl up on the squashy sofas and look at the fire and talk about what we expected school to be like. When the prefect woke us up later and sent us all to bed, the fire was burned almost all the way down.

It must be very late right now, but I needed to write it all down to remember. Tomorrow is our first day of classes, and I expect I’ll be too busy to write again soon.

Scorpius skimmed through the rest and then snapped the journal shut, refusing to read any other entries. He stood and marched back to the deepest part of the library and returned it to its hidey hole under the shelf, resolving to forget about it entirely. Fancy Rose Weasley keeping a bloody diary. And a pointless and boring one too. He'd have guessed, had he ever had cause to wonder before, that any diary kept by her ought to be far more interesting than this. But no, she even wrote down what she ate for Merlin's sake! The most interesting parts had been mention of Nera and of himself! Well he was done with the journal.

He left the library and headed down to the dungeons. As he walked his mind wandered and all unbidden, he found memories of his own sorting fighting to be remembered. He supposed it was better than dwelling on the Quidditch defeat, but Scorp didn't much like recalling it. He could remember it like it was yesterday...

6.2 Hatstall
Little Scorpius had still been sniggering as the first years were all led from the Boatshed up to the castle and into a little room off the Great Hall. During the boat ride across the Black Lake, Barnaby Goyle had 'accidentally' pushed a muggleborn named Ryan into the water. The kid had immediately panicked because moments before, Nera had calmly been telling him horror stories about the Giant Squid's eating habits. Even when the boy was flailing and screeching in the cold water she had leaned over the side and informed him in no uncertain terms that the squid liked to play with his food and that he'd last longer if he could hold his breath. Hagrid had fished him out soon enough and the boy had been dried off but that one professor, the Longbottom one who had led them into this side room, he'd forgotten the boy's shoes and now Ryan-whatever-his-name-was squelched. Nera stood at Scorp's side, looking perfectly innocent. They waited through the little briefing and Scorpius, who had drilled his entire family for every possible detail about this whole sorting thing, took the opportunity to access his future classmates. Flanking himself and his cousin Nera Zabini, there was Barnaby Goyle, Vincent Nott and Tamsin Urquhart. All of whom he knew. He heard a whispered observation from nearby, only picking out the word 'death-eaters' and he turned his face in that direction, fixing grey eyes on the one he picked out as the speaker just as Professor Longbottom firmly berated the youngster. That word was almost as loaded as the one about dirty blood these days.

Scorpius met the Professor's eyes, and saw, with a keen flash of insight for an eleven year old, that the Herbology professor had entertained that same thought, but nobly quashed it, setting a good example and truly practicing what he preached. Though perhaps he was not quite able to ignore that flicker within himself either? Scorpius eyed the group he was standing with and couldn't really blame the man. The thing was though, it was normal to gravitate towards people you knew right? And it was a pretty nerve racking thing to wait for, this sorting business. They all said he had nothing to worry about, that he was Slytherin through and through, just like his entire family. Scorp gave Nera's arm a quick squeeze and wandered over to say hello to a few other children that he knew, even making a conscious effort to say hello to the ones that he didn't think had any desire to end up in Slytherin. The great majority of children that he knew were pureblooded like himself though, with a few halfbloods to round it out. The muggleborn ones which Scorpius rather thought he could pick out based on their nervous expressions, and in some cases, the silly questions they were asking of their neighbours, he didn't know at all and he wasn't quite brave enough to say hello. He ended up standing -not hovering, Malfoys don't hover - near Apollo Burke and Yates Shacklebolt.

"Malfoy." Shacklebolt greeted him first. Scorpius knew him well enough, but their only interactions were usually brief, while their elders conversed. Shacklebolt's father was still Minister for Magic, and a popular one too. Scorp's own father had become quite the philanthropist in recent years, contributing to various charities and providing substantial monetary support to the Ministry itself. Some claimed it was evidence of the Malfoys trying to buy their way back into society's good graces, which was partly true, but as his father often said, you had to take the given path until you found a shortcut to where you wanted to be, and Scorpius understood that there was no reason why a wizard shouldn't make the journey along that path as easy as possible in the first place, something his father was doing as best he could. In addition to Draco Malfoy's wizarditarian actions, Scorp's grandfather was firmly established as part of the Board of Governors for Hogwarts itself, as well as Minister Shacklebolt's own Privy Council amongst several other high profile committees and groups within Wizarding Britain. All of this meant that the interactions between Scorpius and Yates had almost been play-acting in the past, the emulation of their fathers and a quiet battle for superiority. Scorpius had more finesse, but Yates had a more overblown entitlement and knew very well that he was rather untouchable with his father being the political leader of British Wizarding society, and a war hero to boot.

Apollo's pedigree on the other hand, was far less stellar. His name was best known in association with Borgin and Burkes, an infamous shop in Diagon Alley which was known for the sale of dark artefacts. His family, while also pureblooded, had prudently kept their noses clean during the second wizarding war and relocated to Greece. Apollo's mother had been a Greek witch, and upon her death he and his father had moved to England, very much welcomed by those pureblood families who remembered the Burkes. Now once again the Burkes had business in Knockturn Alley, Apollo's father had a monopoly there, so far as Scorpius knew, but they weren't as wealthy as the Malfoys and they had to actually work for their money. The three boys chatted quietly together and Scorp looked when Apollo subtly pointed out Albus Potter and Rose Weasley, Yates loudly acknowledging that he knew them and proceeding to boast about his father's exploits during the war and how very close he was to the legendary Harry Potter, now Head of the Auror Office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It made Scorpius twitchy and he was wholly unimpressed. Yates got a flat stare but didn't seem to notice the icy expression on the young Malfoy's face. Nera did, from across the room, and the little girl swooped imperiously over to the three boys. Her dark hair was cut square to her jaw and she sported a fringe that was also straight-cut. The heart-shaped face was currently tipped up, the chin raised, and Nera looked down at them through her rectangular-framed glasses despite being shorter than each of the boys. Neither Yates nor Apollo appeared to take the slightest bit of notice of her until she spoke and then both boys stopped talking mid-conversation.

"Scorpius, come be by me, we have to go in soon. I'll be last you know." She hooked her arm in his and led him closer to the door, waiting. He looked over his shoulder at Apollo and Yates a few times and then settled to wait arm and arm with his cousin, pleased to have her comfort but pretending like he was only trying to make sure she wasn't too nervous. All too soon the door was opened and they were led out into the Great Hall. Even Scorpius who was well used to impressive magic and great looming feats of Wizarding Architecture , couldn't help but marvel at the star spangled ceiling and the heavy feel of history permeating the air.

He was nervous now and Scorp swallowed roughly but tried to look nonchalant, knowing that they were being watched. Nera seemed more subdued too, clinging to his arm tightly, though she had looked for her sister at the Slytherin table and waved with great enthusiasm when the first years had been led out to face the masses of students. Scorpius had never thought that there would be so many. He barely registered the beginning of the ceremony, he was too busy looking out over the hall and trying to count all the heads.

It wasn't until the hat first began to name the new Slytherin students that Scorpius fixed his attention on the hat and the sorting of those students who came ahead of him alphabetically. Apollo Burke was quickly sorted to Slytherin along with a girl named Selina Evercreech. Curtis Flint and Barnaby Goyle had made Slytherin too. They were in the H's now, with two more Slytherins.

"I, J, K, L, M." Scorpius whispered to himself, watching the hat avidly now. At the Slytherin table it seemed there was a bit of betting going on. The boy with the squelching shoes was a HUFFLEPUFF and Nera snorted inelegantly.

"Figures." It seemed to give her more confidence and she straightened. Scorpius tried to do so too and risked another look out at the house tables. His eyes lingered on his goal, Slytherin, but he couldn't help but look over at the Gryffindor table too. He was being glared at. The blond boy blinked slowly. Weasleys? He couldn't think about that right then, his eyes went back to the Slytherin table and Acantha Zabini gave him a thumbs up.

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

The entire great hall went silent for a moment and it was eerie. Scorp extracted his arm from Nera's and, hearing a few jeers from older students out there at the tables, suddenly felt very small as he strode over to the stool and the hat. The Slytherins started to cheer when he got there, which made him feel better. He sat on the stool and Professor Longbottom held the hat out, lowering it to Scorp's head.

Nothing happened.

Slytherin?

Nothing.

"Young Malfoy." The hat spoke and Scorpius startled. He knew the hat could talk but his father had told him that he'd not had any interaction with the thing, that it had barely touched his head before yelling Slytherin. Scorpius chose not to say a word, he just sat there on the stool, gripping the base of it as if he were worried the hat would suck his brains out. Professor Longbottom seemed surprised by the indecision too and shifted restlessly at his side. Scorpius and the hat proceeded to have a long one-sided conversation whereby Scorp continued to say nothing at all and the hat hovered between the choice of two houses. After a minute the whispers began, but Professor Longbottom hushed them. Two minutes and you could hear a pin drop. Three minutes and Scorpius was sure that his heart was going to stop. The eleven year old boy sat on that stool and tried to look over at Nera but the professor was obscuring his view. He looked out at the Slytherin table instead, eyes finding his cousin who looked thoughtful but not particularly worried. He straightened and finally addressed the hat and tried to hide his panic. Of everyone in the great hall at that moment, students and teachers alike, only the Headmaster seemed unworried. The whispers couldn't be hushed now. Four minutes in. Not wanting anyone to see the panic he was currently feeling, or for anyone to discern the internal argument from his expression, Scorpius Malfoy smirked, nothing like his usual smile but he punctuated it with a fake yawn. Finally, at Five minutes and twenty four seconds the hat reached a decision.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The cheers from the Slytherin table were impressive and Scorp went right over there, squeezing in beside Acantha. He felt a bit sick and barely managed smiles at the greetings and congratulations directed at him from his now housemates. The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur though there weren't anymore delays or surprises. The Slytherins had piles of things on the tables amongst the empty plates. galleons, sickles, chocolate frog cards, valuable knick-knacks of all sorts, all of which was swept up or added to depending on what house each student was sorted into. There was a lot of whisper about odds for the first years with known familial ties. Like Albus Potter, whom Scorpius had met on the express, and Potter's cousin Rose Weasley. Both Gryffindors of course, along with Yates Shacklebolt. Finally Nera Zabini was called and Nera spent all of four seconds on the stool before joining Scorpius and Apollo at the Slytherin table. She didn't ask about the sorting incident.

Nobody did.

Later he'd find out that he had almost lost Ryuu Haneda 50 galleons, but still, nobody ever asked which house was the might-have-been. Scorpius wouldn't have told them if they had.