All You'll Ever Be

Summary: Scorpius Malfoy contemplates being the son of a Death Eater on his way to Hogwarts for his first year. one-shot.

Disclaimer:

ME: "Who owns the rights to Harry Potter?"

HERMIONE: "J.K. Rowling. Not you."

ME: "Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

In other words, I don't own Harry Potter. I do, however, own my own imaginary dragon named Jim. He enjoys chocolate chip muffins (warmed) and vicious games of chess.

A.N.: I'm not sure if Draco was a known Death Eater in the wizarding world after the second war, but for the purposes of this one-shot he was, despite the fact that the Malfoys ratted their way out of punishment. Also, Astoria Greengrass is herein depicted as having been a Ravenclaw. I looked this up in the lexicon, and since nothing was mentioned, I chose Ravenclaw (I was, of course, affected by that marvelous piece of fanfiction The Hogwarts Blog in the picking of her house).

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy hated the way people would react when he introduced himself. Their eyes would widen knowingly, and many could not resist asking:

"Malfoy?"

It had happened so many times that by the time he was nine he could almost see exactly what they were thinking.

Oh, he's the son of that Death Eater!

By the time he was ten, he had stopped giving people his last name when he introduced himself unless his father was there.

His father had no idea why Scorpius was so embarrassed to be a Malfoy and pointedly ignored the people in the streets of Diagon Alley who went of their way to avoid the father and son. Scorpius had almost hoped that he could go to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang where his family might be less infamous. But, no, his parents insisted that he go to Hogwarts, and, unlike his father, he didn't have the courage to fight back.

According to his mother, he'd never been much like his father except in appearance, in which he was identical beside the fact that Scorpius did not slick his hair back like his father did. He preferred diplomacy to arguments, chose reading voraciously instead of flying his broom over the Quidditch Pitch in the backyard of Malfoy Manor. His father preferred to insult people coldly, while Scorpius was very slow to anger but near impossible to calm down once angry. Notwithstanding their numerous differences, people tended to see him merely as his father's son.

And now as he stood at platform-nine-and-three-quarters with his father at his shoulder, he felt he would never escape his family's reputation. He watched the Potters and Weasleys who stood at a distance, and wished he could make himself smaller. He'd always been envious of their close familial relationship whenever he'd seen them in Diagon Alley. More than once, he had considered introducing himself, but he knew it would only have been a matter of time before they would have found out. Now, as they stared knowingly at Scorpius standing beside his father, Scorpius knew that being the son of a Death Eater was his identity. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

A gentle tap on his shoulder from his mother brought him out of his melancholic thoughts.

"Scorpius," his mother said gently, her eyes brimming with tears, "It's time to board the train."

Scorpius nodded blankly, then reached forward and gave her a brief hug. He then turned to his father, who merely held out his hand. Restraining his sigh of disappointment, he shook his father's hand. He said a quick goodbye to his parents before pushing his cart to the train.

He heaved his trunk down the train corridor until he finally reached an empty compartment. He fitted the trunk into the rack above his seat after pulling out his worn copy of Hogwarts: A History. Settling himself into the corner seat by the window, he opened his book to the twentieth chapter and began to read it over again.

Only a couple minutes later, the door to the compartment slid open and Scorpius peered over the top of his book to see Albus Potter looking into the compartment.

"Can I sit here?" Albus asked, seemingly unaware of Scorpius' acute discomfort, "Everywhere else is full."

Scorpius nodded, but then realizing Albus probably couldn't see his nod from behind his book, he said,

"Sure," said he, wincing as his voice cracked, "Of course."

Albus grinned and sat down across from Scorpius. He looked to Scorpius, held out his hand, and said,

"I'm Albus Potter, but please call me Al."

Scorpius put his book down and took Al's hand,

"I'm Scorpius."

There was a long silence. Scorpius wasn't about to jeopardize any chance he might have for friendship with Al by speaking, though he was confused with the other boy's actions. Didn't Al know who he was?

Al had just opened his mouth to speak as the door to the compartment slid open again.

"Is there any room in here?" asked another first-year. He was mousy and smaller than either Scorpius or Al.

"Yeah," said Al.

"Brilliant," said the other first-year as he plopped down beside Scorpius who scooted farther into the corner, "I've been down the whole corridor twice."

Al introduced himself with a confident smile, and Scorpius hesitated a moment before introducing himself again, leaving out his last name. The mousy boy smiled at them. Scorpius could tell that the boy was restraining himself from gaping openly at Al, who was the son of the famous Harry Potter. He also noticed that it wasn't working very well.

"I'm Colin Creevey."

Scorpius couldn't help saying, "Your name sounds really familiar."

Colin's smile wavered but didn't disappear completely.

"My dad named me after his brother who died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Maybe you saw his name on one of the memorials," he explained calmly. Scorpius could tell he had heard the question many times before.

"Ah."

Scorpius couldn't really think of anything else to say. Luckily, Al did.

"Soooo…do any of you think you know what house you're going to be in?"

"Probably Gryffindor," said Colin, "My dad, my uncle, the one I was named for, and my mother were all there."

"Yeah, all of my family's been in Gryffindor too," he began to look extremely uncomfortable as he continued, "But my brother keeps telling me I'll be in Slytherin. I'm not saying Slytherin is a bad house," he added hurriedly, "But it would be weird to be in a different house from everyone else."

More silence followed. Just as Scorpius had decided he could return to his book, Al asked.

"What house do you think you'll be in, Scorpius?"

"Ummm…I really don't know. My dad was in Slytherin but my mom was in Ravenclaw. I guess I could be in Gryffindor, but I doubt I'll be in Hufflepuff. I don't think I work hard enough."

"I'm with you there," said Al, grinning. He pulled out a pack of cards, "Anyone up for Exploding Snap?"

Colin immediately said that he was, but Scorpius declined politely, choosing to watch over the top of his book as the other two boys began to play a faster game than he'd ever seen before, filling the compartment with their laughter when the cards exploded in their faces. After the second round, Al caught sight of Scorpius' grey eyes peeking over the spine of his thick book.

"Sure you don't wanna join us, Scorpius?"

Scorpius hesitated, but the warm invitation in Al's eyes and the prospect of laughter not at his own expense proved too hard to resist.

"Oh, alright," he sighed, shutting out the story of how Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw had hexed the other two founders when they'd found out the boys had named the school "Hogwarts."

Scorpius scooted forward, and Colin began to deal the cards out again. They played several noisy rounds, and Scorpius thought he might've laughed more in that hour than he ever had before. It was only after an older prefect, who looked as though he might be struggling not to laugh, told them off for being loud that they finally put away the cards.

Scorpius looked outside. The sun was drooping horribly low towards the horizon, and his mood darkened again. What were the chances of these two being friends with him after they found out who he was?

Albus and Colin were chatting about Quidditch again, so he returned to his book, skipping a few chapters so he could again read of how Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin had fought a dragon, bringing about the inspiration for the Hogwarts motto.

He had just finished the first paragraph when the door to their compartment opened and a small voice said,

"Is there room in here?"

The boys turned to see, to their shock and amazement, a girl. Her eyes were dangerously red and puffy, and she'd already changed into her Hogwarts uniform.

"Yeah, of course," Albus said blankly, then returned to debate whether or not the Tornados had any chance of succeeding in that years tournament.

The girl came in, shutting the door behind her, and sat down on the far end of the bench Scorpius was on. He tore his eyes away from the text to look at her. She had light brown hair and a great number of freckles, and she was smaller than even Colin. She was still wiping at her eyes, sniffling. Feeling uncomfortable, Scorpius returned to his book until she spoke to him,

"What are they talking about?"

"Quidditch," his eyes didn't leave the page.

"What's Quidditch?"

That got his attention.

"You're a muggleborn?"

She visibly bristled, eyes flashing

"Yes, and you've got anything to say abou-"

"No, no," he backpedaled rapidly, "It doesn't bother me, I just was surprised, that's all."

"Oh," her face was turning red, "Sorry. I just came from another compartment and when they found out I was a muggleborn they made me leave so…"

"They shouldn't have done that," Scorpius said, closing his book (he was starting to doubt he'd get more than a page in), "Muggleborns aren't inferior to other witches and wizards."

She smiled at him, her eyes filling with tears.

"Thanks."
Not sure what he'd done wrong (the tears looked dangerously close to spilling over), and not wanting to upset her more, Scorpius returned to the matter at hand,

"Oh, right, Quidditch! It's the most popular wizarding sport."

"Like football for wizards?" she wanted to know.

Scorpius had no idea what foot ball was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know (it sounded very dull), but he said anyway,

"Sure, I guess."

"How does it work?"

"Well, there are seven players and four balls…"
He started to explain the sport to her, his confidence rising as she continued to listen intently, dark eyes fixed on his face. While he didn't enjoy playing Quidditch, Scorpius loved the history of the game. Well, to be fair, Scorpius loved history in general, and Quidditch history was something he knew more about because of his father's deep and abiding love for the sport. It wasn't long before Albus and Colin finished their conversation and began to listen to his vivid retelling of the 1923 sixteen-day-long game between the British Appleby Arrows and the Bulgarian Vratsa Vultures. His voice shrank when the other two boys began listening, but when he saw that they seemed to be enjoying the story, it grew again, his tone carrying the story onwards, finally reaching its climax in the Arrows' bold seeker catching the snitch despite his two broken limbs.

"Wow," said the girl, "That's nothing like football."

Scorpius felt his face flushing. Fortunately she distracted him, holding out her hand,

"I'm Emma Anders."

"Scorpius."

Albus and Colin introduced themselves as well, and then Al asked her,

"What house do you think you'll be in?"

"I really don't know," she answered, nervous again, "What about you all?"
"Probably Gryffindor," Colin said promptly.

"Every house but Hufflepuff," said Scorpius.

"Ditto," said Al.

Emma's face twisted into confusion, "What's wrong with Hufflepuff?"

"Nothing," Al was quick to say, "Scorpius and I just don't think we're hard working enough to get in there."

"Oh."

Al was easily able to get Colin and Emma into a discussion about their families, and Scorpius hastened to hide himself in his book again, not wanting to be questioned on that front. Several minutes passed and then a prefect entered.

"You lot better get dressed now," he advised, "We'll be there in a few minutes."

Emma stood up,

"I'll wait in the hall while you all change."

Scorpius glanced out the window, marveling at how much time had passed. The sun was dipping into the horizon, its glow bathing the countryside in a warm orange-gold. He, Colin, and Al changed, and, by the time, Emma had returned to their compartment, the train was already beginning to slow down. He could see his companions faces' began to warm with anticipation, but he only felt an increasing dread, and a vague excitement at the thought of the massive Hogwarts library.

It wasn't long before the four of them were trailing after Hogwarts groundskeeper, Hagrid, along with the other first years toward the edge of the lake.

"Four to a boat!" Hagrid instructed.

Scorpius saw Al wave reluctantly to his cousin Rose, who had been sitting with their cousin Victoire during the train ride, as she took a separate boat, while those who'd been in his compartment clambered into the same one.

None of them could restrain the gasps at the sight of Hogwarts in all its glory shining over the edge of the lake, the lights of a thousand candles twinkling brighter than the stars. For all its stone, it already was home in Scorpius' mind, the pennants hanging from the towers already waving to him in welcome.

It was more than his father had ever done when he'd returned to the manor.

"It's beautiful."

Emma's breathy declaration distracted Scorpius from those glum thoughts and he turned his attention to the great opening in the stone ahead of them, the entrance to a tunnel. Scorpius felt the nerves he thought he'd abandoned when he'd left the train return with a vengeance, as he realized they were nearing the entrance to the school. He wondered if the sorting hat would even bother to really look through his mind. His father's reputation would precede him…again?

He realized with a jolt that the boats had skidded to a stop on a rocky bank, and that Hagrid was beckoning all the first years to follow him up to a set of double wooden doors at the top of the alcove.

Hagrid raised his massive fist to knock on the door but it swung open before he could, opened by a young professor who said promptly,

"Thanks, Professor Hagrid, I can take it from here."

"Sure thing, Professor Longbottom."

Professor Longbottom gave the group of huddling first years a warm, reassuring smile and led them into a hallway.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said once they had stopped, "I'm Professor Longbottom the deputy Headmaster. In a few moments, you'll all walk through those doors into the great hall where you will be individually sorted into your houses, which will determine with whom you share classes and often who you become friends with. The houses are Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw," he gave them another smile, "Now I'm sure you're all feeling nervous right now, but I assure that's perfectly normal and that very soon all of this will be a memory. Take a few deep breaths, and wait here while I get the go ahead from Headmistress McGonagall."

He disappeared out of the doors at the other end of the hall, and Scorpius attempted to take the professor's advice by breathing deeply, but—

"Your hands are shaking," Emma observed, "Are you nervous?"

"No."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'm nervous," he ran a shaking hand through his hair, "Aren't you?"

"No," sarcasm fell off her words, breaking the tension, "I'm perfectly calm because I'm about to categorized into a group that will affect the rest of my time at Hogwarts."

Scorpius let out a laugh that sounded too much like a squeak for his liking.

"They're ready for you. Get in a single line please," Neville instructed, and the first-years followed him into the great hall.

Even though he was feeling more nervous then ever at the uncomfortable stares from the older students, Scorpius couldn't help but gaze in wonder at the great hall. He had, of course, read about the enchanted ceiling, the brilliant house tapestries on the walls, and the golden kitchenware, but, as with so many other things, reading about it wasn't quite the same as being there. The professor stopped and motioned for the first years to stop too. Scorpius noticed the long scroll of parchment in his hands. Professor Longbottom quickly explained the sorting process and then waited. Scorpius was about to ask Al (who was standing behind him) if he knew what was going on, when the hat opened at the brim and began to sing. It sang a song of the four houses, espousing their virtues and encouraging unity between them. When it had finished and the applause had died away. Professor Longbottom cleared his throat and read the first name off the list.

"Anders, Emma."

Emma stepped out from just in front of him and shuffled over to the stool. She placed the old sorting hat on her head and it sunk down past her eyes. It only sat on her head a few moments before yelling,

"Hufflepuff!"

Beaming, Emma put the hat back on the school and strode to the Ravenclaw house table. Scorpius gave her a faint smile from where he stood in line, still nervously wringing his hands, and she grinned back.

"Creevey, Colin."

Scorpius watched Colin walk to the stool.

"Ravenclaw!"

Shock and pleasure warred on Colin's face. Pleasure won, and, grinning, he moved to sit down by Emma. Scorpius watched Colin put the hat back on the stool, salute the student body, and nearly trip over his own two feet on his way to the Ravenclaw table.

Scorpius couldn't bring himself to listen after that, the sound of his heart and the wheeling questions in his head smothering all other noise. What would his father think if he was put in Slytherin? What if he wasn't? Would anyone want to be friends with him when they knew who he was? Would his housemates shun him? Would Emma, Colin, and Al want anything to with him?

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

Stumbling out of line, he spared a brief glance at the Ravenclaw table, and Colin and Emma gave him smiles and the latter a thumbs-up. Scorpius nodded at them before settling down on the stool and slipping the hat over his head.

"Ah…not the normal Malfoy I see…"

Scorpius nearly jumped at the voice in his head before he realized that no one else could hear the hat.

"Not the normal Malfoy?" Scorpius thought.

"For being very clever, you are rather thick. Weren't you listening to my song? I'm a thinking cap," said the voice in his head.

"Ummm…" Scorpius thought.

"And you certainly are articulate. As I said, you're not a normal Malfoy, you don't think that you're better than others, in fact you could do with thinking a bit better of yourself. Yes, you'll definitely set yourself apart. You don't really care to be like the rest of your family, given up on your father ever liking you. You're brave, but you prefer to be with your book…Let's see…"

Scorpius felt took a deep breath, a calming one, letting the hat's words, fill him as the magical object continued to mumble incoherently. He wasn't a normal Malfoy. He felt an insane urge to laugh.

"You've got quite a mind, young Malfoy, don't let it go to waste. It seems the place for you is…"

Scorpius felt some of his nervousness ebb away. In the end, all he would ever be was himself.

*********************************LAH***************************************************

The end! FINALLY! I've been working on this stupid piece for over six months. Grr… Please Review! *makes puppy-dog eyes* Should I just keep this a one-shot? I like these characters, but I also want to finish this other piece... *sigh*