A/N: Yes, this story used to be called Outcasts...but I had a stroke of inspiration and decided to repost it, retitled it and resummarise it. :D.
Oh, and I'm writing more chapters, to answer those of you who asked me if Outcasts was complete.
The wind whipped through my hair, making it even more wild than usual. The ground loomed closer, a green blur speeding towards me, but I didn't slow down.
I never did.
I pulled out of the dive at the last moment, levelling out just above the grass, a grin plastered to my face. I quickly gathered speed and height again, going for dive number two.
I circled the hoops, my gaze hovering over the forest. I gradually made my way to the centre of the pitch, dipping lower and lower, gathering speed.
My broom responded at the slightest touch, and I gently guided it in a circle so that I spun lower and lower, the green blur once again approaching.
"WEASLEY!"
I started, my broom coming to a screeching halt halfway through my dive. I lurched forward, over my broom, my body flinging over the stick. The sudden stop of my broom hadn't affected my body, which, unfortunately, kept going forward.
I hung on by one hand, the green grass now looking more threatening as I dangled above it.
I turned my head slowly, looking for the source of my predicament.
"Malfoy?" I squinted through the setting sunlight, a silhoutte on the skyline, on his own broom, fast approaching.
"You idiot." He said bluntly, coming to a stop next to me, both of us now hovering in the air. I quickly swung myself back up onto my broom (something I'd had to practice thousands of times in practices, which I now thanked Merlin for), turning to glare at my everlasting source of hatred, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.
"What the hell, Malfoy? You don't just call out to me when I'm in the MIDDLE of a dive, you could've killed me!" I screamed, the wind picking up again and swirling my hair around my face.
"But you're fine." He smirked at me, before launching into his own dive, nearly, but not quite, as spectacular as mine, and landing smartly on the ground.
I followed, swooping down just over his head, though, to his credit, he didn't duck.
I jumped off my broom, stalking off to the changerooms, steadfastly ignoring Malfoy.
"Oh, Weasley!" He called after me, but I refused to turn around.
"Weaslette!" He called again, in a singsong voice.
He was following me, the prat. He'd probably follow me all the way into the female changerooms, I wouldn't put it past him.
"How come you still come here to fly? Can't let school go, can you?" He taunted, a few paces behind me.
"You're pathetic, Weasley. You can't help but come here and relive your glory days-"
I whirled around, my eyes flashing.
"What are you doing here, then, Malfoy?" I retaliated, fed up with his taunts.
He looked at me.
"Practicing. I, unlike you, still play Quidditch, and have some sort of a reason for being here. I'm not pathetic, like you, Weaslette." He said, his smirk back.
I sighed.
"You know nothing about me anymore, Malfoy." I said shortly, turning and pushing the changeroom door open, letting it thud behind me, a barrier between my anger and my oldest enemy.
Scorpius Malfoy and I had spent seven years hating eachother, taunting eachother, constantly trying to best the other in classes, Quidditch, popularity...everything.
Our natural competitive natures were not helped by our families past, and the mutual rivalry that still lay there. Whilst old differences had, for the most part, been laid aside, the Weasley-Malfoy feud was most definitely reawakened by Malfoy and myself.
Scorpius was the pure-blood prince from a family of Slytherins, sorted into Gryffindor. I was the Weasley girl, daughter of two war heroes, from a long line of Gryffindors, sorted into Slytherin.
To say we were a shock to our respective families would be an understatement.
"Malfoy, Scorpius!"
A small, blonde haired boy I vaguely recognized from the platform swaggered up to the chair, confidence oozing from his pores. His smug grin, what would become his trademark expression, appeared on his face as he pulled the hat over his head.
Several minutes past, and most of the student body held their breath. Every Malfoy had been sorted into Slytherin instantly, his father had sat on that stool for less than ten seconds.
What was so different about Scorpius?
"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted, and no one moved.
Scorpius Malfoy sat frozen on the stool, the Slytherin table was a mixture of shocked looks, disgusted gazes and a few angry relatives. The Gryffindor table didn't know how to react. Gryffindor's were brave, chivalrous, the house of Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and many other greats. Scorpius Malfoy did not belong there, at least in the minds of many Hogwarts students that day.
My cousins, James and Fred, slowly started clapping. Eventually, Scorpius moved and sat with his new housemates, and a smattering of applause broke out. My other cousin, Albus, soon joined him at the table, and I saw them start making conversation, albiet an awkward one.
"Weasley, Rose!" McGonagall called, and I stepped forward.
There was no doubt in my mind where I would go. Every single member of my family, save Aunt Fleur, who'd gone to Beauxbatons so she didn't really count, had been in Gryffindor. Every single one.
"Another Weasley, I see." The hat whispered in my ear.
"You're not like the others, no. Destined for greatness like so many...yet...you have ambition, you are cunning. Your mother's brains, yes, a fine Ravenclaw you could be..."
"No!" I thought to myself, I couldn't be in Ravenclaw, it was a respectable house, but it wasn't my family's house, it wasn't the same...
"Ah, I see you are loyal to your family too...interesting."
I stiffened; loyalty was a Hufflepuff quality, and if I ended up there, James and Fred would tease me to no end...the 'duffers' house, it was...
"No, no, it is quite clear. After all, you are a Weasley..." The hat said, and I felt myself relax.
What had I been worried about? Of course I'd been in Gryffindor, I was Rose Weasley-
"SLYTHERIN!" The hat screamed, and for the second time, there was silence.
This one, however, didn't end until I'd found the will to move.
Bravery, that was. A Gryffindor quality. I'd needed a Gryffindor quality to go take my place as a Slytherin.
Ironic, or what?
I shrugged out of my old Quidditch gear, my mind dwelling on that day, so many years ago, that had changed my life.
I certainly wasn't as close to my family as my cousins, every one in Gryffindor, was. I was the odd one out, green in a family of red. Only Uncle Harry seemed to understand me at all, he sympathised.
Al told me once that his dad had told him that the hat would take your choice into account. Apparently, it had wanted to put Uncle Harry into Slytherin, but he'd said no.
I had said no, that's the thing. To Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. But it was too late for me to say anything once that hat had screamed it out to everyone.
I was a Slytherin, that was that.
"I think I do know you, Weasley."
My head flicked around at the sound of his voice, coming from the door. Malfoy'd snuck in at some point in my musings, and was now staring straight at me, his face serious for once.
"You do, do you?" I replied snidely, my features sliding into my cold, snarky attitude almost with no effort.
"Yes." He said bluntly, taking a step towards me.
"You love apples. You hate winter, because it's too cold, but also hate summer because it's too hot. You love to compete, but hate losing. You love your family, but at the same time can't stand them because you're the different one, the only one who doesn't belong. You regret your choices since school, that's why you return here, but part of you also hates it here, all the memories. You're a walking contradiction. You love flying, it helps you think and lets your mind relax. You're passionate, ambitious and driven, sometimes too much so. Most of all, though, you regret that day. The day you were sorted into Slytherin. I think if you could change anything, it would be that. And, in my opinion, that is pathetic. You need to get over it, and accept who you are. Merlin, Weasley, it's been how many years? GET OVER IT."
With that, he turned around and stormed out, leaving me utterly stunned.
Scorpius Malfoy had been my classmate for 7 years, my rival on the Quidditch pitch for 6, my fellow Prefect for 2 and Head Boy to my Head Girl for 1. However, in the past 2 years, we'd had nothing to do with eachother and I'd thought I'd changed, become someone different.
He was right, though. I was still stuck on the fact that I was a Slytherin. It was pathetic, I was out of Hogwarts, why did it even matter?
I knew the answer to that, though. Not that I'd ever admit it out loud. There was one thing about me that no one knew, not even Scorpius Malfoy, 'Mr. I Know Everything About You'.
One thing that had the potential to be catastrophic.