Had Fate been kind to me as a child, I would have been safe.
Sane.
I would have heeded my father's warning from the very beginning. I would have meant my uncertain nod, and my eyes, wide as saucers at the time, would have slit into a withering glare when they swiveled to see where my father was pointing as he murmured to Uncle Harry. I still remember the scene, the first time I saw him, clear as yesterday, swirling around my mind like silvery Pensive.
Fate had been decidedly cruel that day.
"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," Daddy had said, stooping down to address me and my cousin Albus, "but no pressure." He had the tell-tale twinkle in his bright blue eyes that should have clued us in that he was kidding. But the color drained from our faces nonetheless.
"Ron!" Mum scolded crossly, causing Daddy, Uncle Harry, Lily, and Hugo to laugh. Rolling her eyes, Aunt Ginny swatted her older brother on the shoulder.
"Ignore him." She said, though she smiled as though part of an inside joke. Albus and I exchanged uneasy glances and I knew we shared the same thought; that I was terrified that I'd be sorted to Ravenclaw and he was terrified to be sent to Slytherin. Our whole family had been Gryffindors. To be anything other was like… sacrilege or something. Besides, we were a team, me and Albus. A firebrand Seeker and a calm, collected Keeper. We couldn't be separated.
Ever.
"He doesn't mean it." Mum added when she noticed our silent exchange, cupping my cheek and trying to fix Albus' unruly hair – a battle she'd never win. Aunt Ginny had given up years ago, but Mum was still holding on that my cousin's hair would lie flat. Albus, for once, was too nervous to duck under her fussing.
Suddenly I sensed a change. Perhaps it was because Daddy had tensed up ever so slightly. Or maybe it was how he'd caught Uncle Harry's eye, nodding covertly to a point some fifty yards away. Squinting and sidling a little closer to them, my eyes widened as the steam cleared and for a moment in time three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.
"Look who it is." We all had looked, seen, heard the growl in Daddy's voice. His arm looped protectively around my shoulders. Mum and Aunt Ginny distracted Lily and Hugo with a flurry of conversation to keep them occupied. Albus fiddled with his glasses, using the hem of his rumpled shirt to polish them, a nervous tick he'd never grow out of. Uncle Harry observed the figures with an un-readable expression. He'd always been really good at those – a trait that I envied. My skin, pale as the moon, had an unfortunate habit of breaking into a blazing blush whenever my emotions tipped any other way than neutral.
I for one was speechless. I had never seen a former Death Eater before, and briefly, I was disappointed. Though the family tales always negated this, I'd always expected a Death Eater to look more… death-like. More evil, really. After all, he'd almost murdered Mum, Daddy, and Uncle Harry in the Battle of Hogwarts. It was for that reason I knew I hated him at least.
But Draco Malfoy was simply standing there, a dark Muggle-styled coat buttoned up to the pale skin of his throat. His receding hair only served to emphasize his sharply pointed chin. A gorgeous, model-esque witch stood at his arm, chocolaty brown ringlets that I instantly envied – my deep auburn curls had still been in their frizzy stage then and refused to look pleasant in anything but a chignon –framing a heart-shaped face and dark eyes framed with smoldering black lashes.
Admittedly, my eyes only skimmed them; the former Death-Eater and his surely half-Veela wife.
Even then – and I will insist until my dying breath that Fate was to blame – my gaze was inexplicably drawn to him. To the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.
His defined cheekbones gave him an aristocratic air that I supposed Daddy despised, though I found them striking. He looked remarkably like his father, but I noticed hints of his mother there too as we drew closer. Long lashes any girl – me included – would die for. Fuller lips – I blushed upon noticing that one. His pale blonde hair had streaks of flaxen and gold, hinting it would darken with age. It was messier, longer than his father's in a defiant way that I couldn't help admire. His skin sun-kissed as though he spent more time outdoors – a prospective Quidditch player perhaps. Grey eyes several shades lighter than charcoal.
Without warning, that flinty gaze, too solemn for an eleven year-old off to his first year at Hogwarts, collided with mine.
Narrowed in thought.
Widened in recognition.
Flittered to my parents.
Halted on my uncle.
Skittered back to mine.
He swallowed, gulped. The only time I saw him nervous.
I don't know what made me do it – and as much as I want to I can't keep on blaming Fate – but I smiled. I think it shocked him.
He stumbled. The only time I saw him unsure of his footing.
And then… his lips quirked upward before he turned away with his parents – I think they noticed us staring. I'm sure of it. Perhaps it'd been a spasm. A nervous twitch. Either way my heart stuttered. Skipped Muggle double-dutch.
And Fate began her game. I like to think of it as Monopoly – Mum loved teaching us Muggle board games – if the board is my mind and the properties are the wee bits of my sanity being scooped up by Fate's greedy hands one by one.
It was the only time I saw him smile.
At me at least. The infamous Malfoy smirk doesn't count, though the giddy, stupid part of me likes to pretend it does.
Albus abruptly yanked me sideways, and I escaped my thoughts long enough to narrowly avoid smacking into a rather grumpy looking wizard.
"So that's little Scorpius," said Daddy under his breath, "Make sure you beat him in every test Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."
Part of me wished I'd meant my uncertain nod, my saucer-wide eyes attempting a withering glare at their retreating backs and utterly failing. My cousin nodded gravely, prepared to help me succeed by whatever means necessary.
"Ron, for heaven's sake," Mum scolded sternly, though I could have sworn she was amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"
"You're right, sorry." Daddy chuckled as we head towards the Hogwarts Express, but unable to help himself he bent down and whispered in my ear, "Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."
I blushed to the roots of my hair, much to my chagrin. Where had that come from?! Marriage? Wedding? Scorpius Malfoy?
Scorpius Malfoy.
Malfoy.
Wait, he hadn't seen me doing… whatever I'd been doing, right? No. Of course not.
I giggled nervously.
Right?
A/N: Hi. This is my first Harry Potter based fanfic so please bear with me. I'll try to update every week, but I've got a couple other stories going so it'll change accordingly. Anywho, please review. I think everyone can agree it's very motivating when you know people actually like your story. Until next time then.