I don't think I'll ever forgive my parents.
First, the name. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. What were they thinking? Of course, when I was younger and I asked them they would insist that it was a good name. Regal, proper, befitting someone of my blood status. I had a good pureblood name. Would I rather have some common Mudblood name, like John or Jimmy?
Uh…yes, actually.
From the moment I set foot in Hogwarts school first year, I'd known I would be made fun of for my name. And I was, don't get me wrong, but it lost its novelty for almost everyone after we turned twelve. The only people who still insisted that they make fun of my name were James Potter and Hugo Weasley.
"Hey, Scorps!" they would call out in the hallway, always inciting laughter from whatever gaggle of Gryffindor girls were trailing along after them. It wasn't even that funny.
However, even worse than the name, was the howler. I'd received it on the first day of first year, from my father. My mother, when I wrote her to tell her the news, remained mysteriously silent, as she did for the rest of my first year and halfway into my second. But my father was more vocal.
"SCORPIUS HYPERION MALFOY! YOU HAVE BROUGHT SHAME ONTO OUR FAMILY. SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS OF PUREBLOOD SLYTHERIN LEGACY, SHATTERED BY YOUR CARELESSNESS. NO SON OF MINE WILL BE IN RAVENCLAW. I WILL NOT HAVE THE FAMILY NAME STAINED BY YOUR FOOLISH DECISION! YOU ARE A DISGRACE."
My face burned with shame as the scarlet envelope burst into flames and burnt itself out over my bacon. I didn't bother to brush the ash away from my plate. I'd completely lost my appetite, and my stomach was churning. I could feel my forehead breaking out into a cold sweat and I stood quickly from the table, pushing past the other new first years and walking as quickly as I could out of the Great Hall. I was searching for a bathroom somewhere, anywhere, but it was too late. I could feel the hot weight pressing up in my throat, and I bolted for the ancient urn that stood in the corner and promptly vomited my eggs and toast into it.
As if this weren't bad enough, two boys stumbled out of the Great Hall, cackling to themselves and practically falling all over each other.
"You're a disgrace!" the one with brown hair said in a high-pitched voice.
"You've brought shame to our family!" said the redheaded boy. They turned and saw me watching them mock me, and started laughing even harder. "See ya in class, Scorpy," the redhead called out.
And finally, the last reason that I would never forgive my parents, no matter what they did to try and right their wrongs.
She was absolutely beautiful. Her face was perfectly symmetrical, with a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had round brown eyes that were lit from within, with flecks of gold around her pupils. And she was smart, the smartest girl in our year, possibly even in the entire school. There was no question that she belonged in Ravenclaw, just like I did, although the rest of her family was in Gryffindor. And she was sweet, and funny, and perfect, and she had been one of my best friends since first year when she exited the Great Hall, walked over to me, and held out a napkin and a glass of cold pumpkin juice and asked if I was ok. And now, five years later, she made her way across the common room and dropped down on the blue couch next to me. Her skirt drifted up an inch when she sat, and I tried to ignore the portion of her thigh that was bare and pressed against my pants.
"Afternoon, Rose."