AN: I don't typically write for this fandom. Usually, I'm just content to read and lurk. However, after I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2 and decided to go on a fanfic binge with one of my friends, this rabid plot bunny jumped up and bit me. So now I'm here, writing this thing out. Oh, and in case you didn't read the summary, this story will contain (possibly explicit) slash. (That's probably why you're here.) I may or may not up the rating on this in the future. Surprisingly enough, there's going to be a plot in between the sex, so if you're only here for the boning, check back in ten or so chapters.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would be rich enough to have a yacht full of extremely attractive models. Consequently, I would be on my yacht instead of here. I apologize deeply to J. K. Rowling for whatever I decide to do with her characters.
"Too often we under estimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." – Leo Buscaglia
Those Who Cannot Remember, chapter one: 01 September, 2017
King's Cross was always a flurry of activity on the first of September. Students rushed onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to reserve seats for friends and to exchange greetings and predictions about the upcoming school year at Hogwarts. It was a joyous occasion, a celebration of returning to one's home away from home, at least for the upperclassmen. For the first years, it was an opportunity to gape at new, interesting surroundings.
People laughed and giggled onto the Hogwarts Express in groups of twos and threes, but not Scorpius. He found the compartment furthest away from everyone else and ducked into it, making sure it was absolutely empty before sitting down. The only people near him were outside, still separated from him by a window of enchanted glass.
Now he might have some respite from the stares, the whispers, and the pointed fingers that followed him around.
"Hey, it's that Malfoy kid!"
"They're letting them into Hogwarts?"
They were maddening. In Diagon Alley, people had rudely pushed past him without a second thought, but that was preferable to this. Solitude, in Scorpius's opinion, was infinitely better than negative attention. He wished he knew how to cast an Imperturbable Charm, but supposed that locking the door would have to be sufficient.
A group he recognized as the children of his father's friends walked past his compartment. He flattened himself up against the navy blue seats, trying to become as unnoticeable as possible.
Back in August, during one of the small social gatherings in Malfoy manor, the adults had banished the children to the backyard and the Zabini girl had approached Scorpius. She was a rising third year at Hogwarts, slim, with a pretty face and skin the color of café au lait.
"He tells interesting stories, y'know," she said, glancing in through the back window at Scorpius's father, Draco, who had drained his first glass of firewhiskey and already looked more jovial than Scorpius was used to seeing him. "Your father, I mean."
"I know," Scorpius replied.
"About how him and father and Mr. Goyle and some other people used to be really good friends."
"I know."
"They had this little Slytherin gang going back then. Your father was kind of the leader."
"I know." Scorpius was becoming progressively more annoyed with Zabini and her idle chitchat.
"Well, I just thought that since you're starting school in a few weeks, maybe you'd like to join up with us. Me, the Goyle twins, and a few more. We're by far the most powerful group in Slytherin house. Even sixth and seventh years don't bother us."
"I don't think so. Honestly, I'll be too busy studying to spend much time with all of you anyway."
It was a cop-out. Easier than admitting he couldn't stand them. In fact, Zabini might even buy it. Scorpius's academic potential was a highly abused bragging point of his father's.
He stared out the window as the train began to move, his entire life as a Slytherin already stretched out before him. Endless conversations about the blood status of various people, trying jinxes on other students. For seven years. His years of practice at concealing his emotions didn't quite stop the expression of horror that flitted across his features. None of them were particularly intelligent or engaging. His next few years would be previously unprecedented levels of boring.
"We're by far the most powerful group in Slytherin House. Even sixth and seventh years don't bother us."
That was the silver lining, at least if he took Zabini up on her offer. Nobody would ridicule him. That said, few outside the group would talk to him either. The children of former Death Eaters consolidating themselves into their own gang? Everyone else would avoid them like the plague.
But the alternative was to ignore Zabini, and to make this group of students his enemies. He couldn't exactly afford to do that.
"I'm in a terrible position," he muttered to no one in particular.
"You idiot, give it back!" A girl ran past the door to his compartment, nearly crashing into it, as she chased a boy about ten paces in front of her. Scorpius raised his arms defensively and twisted away from the door. But the pair never returned.
As his heart rate returned to normal, it occurred to him that he had an entire compartment to himself, in which to practice his Charms work. He extricated a button from his pocket and set it down on the seat beside him. Then, he removed his wand – cherry wood and unicorn tail hair – from inside the lining of his jacket.
He pointed his wand at the button and gave it an abbreviated jerk.
"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered. The button rose about half a foot into the air, haltingly, before ascending further. It wasn't an advanced spell, but he was fairly proud of himself. He doubted that many of the students had even practiced magic with their wands yet, or knew proper spells. Maybe he could make it touch the ceiling.
Just as he moved to try, he heard someone speak softly right outside the compartment door.
"Alohomora."
Scorpius had no time to react before a boy with bright green eyes and unkempt black hair so unlike his own practically jumped into the compartment, pushing the door shut and re-locking it before flattening himself against the adjacent seat.
"What're you –" Scorpius began, but the boy was quick to explain himself once he was adequately hidden.
"Sorry. I thought this one was empty. Didn't mean to mess up your spell work. I'm just trying to get away from my brother James and his friends – oh Merlin, here they come."
Sure enough, a gaggle of teenage boys, third years perhaps, were determinedly striding toward the door to Scorpius's compartment.
"Think I saw 'im this way. Oh, Albus…? Where are you…?" One boy, who bore more than a striking resemblance to the boy in front of Scorpius, grinned. He could see the backs of the group from the window.
Albus blanched. Scorpius shook his head. What an odd name. But not wholly uncommon in the post-war climate. He'd seen more "Harry"s, "Fred"s, "Remus"es and "Lily"s than he could easily count. He also strongly doubted any wizard would name their child Tom for at least the next five hundred years. Albus and James. Parents must be a bunch of Potter fanatics, then.
The older boy, Albus's brother James, was right in front of the door to the compartment, about to spell it open. Scorpius jumped out of his seat. This was just too much for him. Where did these people get off thinking they could just casually invade his privacy at the drop of a hat? No wonder Zabini and the others hated Gryffindors.
When James got the door open, he found himself face to face with a rather irate blond boy at least a full head shorter than he.
"What?" Scorpius demanded, in a tone that nearly made James jump. James looked down at the younger boy, the sleek blond hair, the silver eyes and the pointed chin and realized he must have been sorely mistaken if he'd thought his brother in this particular compartment.
"C'mon, it's a bleedin' Malfoy. There's no way Al'd be in there," one of James's friends said, having concluded the same thing.
"Right then. Sorry…" James let the door to the compartment slide shut and took off without another word.
When Scorpius returned, Albus was quietly reading through a Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and appeared to be completely nonplussed by the fact that he had just broken into and entered a locked compartment. Upon seeing that Scorpius had returned, Albus looked up and gave him a small smile.
"Thank you."
Scorpius narrowed his eyes and waved the words of gratitude off. Why didn't he leave him alone? Everyone left when they found out that he was a Malfoy. Why should Albus be any different?
It hadn't occurred to him yet that Albus had heard the exchange between him, James and James's friends.
"Aren't you going to leave now?" Scorpius asked. The boy across from him lowered his textbook and shrugged.
"Dunno. Y'want me to leave?"
Scorpius willed "Yes" to fall from his lips, and found that it was stuck somewhere between his throat and his mouth. If Albus stayed, he would be the first person his age – who wasn't an ignorant Muggle child at the park, or the spawn of one of Draco's friends – who voluntarily spent more than five minutes with him. It was an interesting prospect.
"Doesn't matter to me. I don't see why you'd want to stay," Scorpius answered, before resuming the experimentation on his button. Albus continued reading, and for the next hour or so, it was silent, except for the rustling of pages.
With great effort, Scorpius managed to turn the button into a blue daffodil, but couldn't quite get it to take on the correct, yellow color. Nor could he get it to feel less plastic. He opened his bag and looked for his Transfiguration textbook, hoping it would have something on the subject. As he rummaged through his things, he realized that Albus wasn't reading the first year Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. Far from it, as the tome in his hands looked much larger. Perhaps the boy was older than he'd initially concluded.
"What're you reading about, anyway?" Scorpius finally asked.
"A few hexes, like Impediamenta."
Now Scorpius was interested. Anyone who was reading up on hexes couldn't be a wholly bad individual. He hadn't quite heard everything the Albus had said though, as the train was growing louder as it hurtled through the English countryside.
"What year textbook is that?"
"What?" Albus couldn't hear him either. Scorpius got up and sat down next to him.
"That's not the first year textbook, is it?" Now that he was getting a better view of it, he was sure it couldn't be. The terms were far too advanced.
"No, it's the fifth. I'm a first year, though. My cousin Teddy gave me half his textbooks after he left school, thinking I'd appreciate them. They're wonderful." Albus gave Scorpius a wide smile, one which he surprisingly returned.
"D'you have the rest?"
"Most. My aunt put an extension charm on my trunk so I could fit them. Unfortunately, for me, it doesn't make the trunk any lighter. Do you want me to get them? We could read through a few."
"I'd like that a lot." Scorpius found himself smiling once again, until something occurred to him. "But wouldn't that mean you'd have to leave? Your trunk obviously isn't in here."
Albus grimaced sheepishly.
"Yeah, it's with my cousin, Rose, and her compartment's next to James's," He realized aloud. "Dunno if I really want to go back there, then."
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Scorpius assured him. Albus looked extremely relieved.
"If you want, we can go through them after school starts. My father told me about the library at Hogwarts. Though if you don't mind my asking, why are you trying to avoid your brother so much?"
"He keeps making fun of me, saying I'm going to end up in Slytherin, since my initials spell asp, you know, the snake. I can't stand it."
Scorpius bristled involuntarily. Of course this boy wouldn't want to be in Slytherin, home of the Dark Arts and blood purists. No, somebody like him would obviously want to go into Gryffindor, full of valiant people who would gladly assemble themselves into cannon fodder for the forces of good. It made him sick. A pity, too, as he was starting to like Albus.
"What's so bad about Slytherin?"
Albus pondered this before answering, "I guess it's what you hear, how Voldemort was in it, and most of his followers were Slytherins. My brother keeps talking about how nasty they are. This girl, Aria Zabini, apparently hexed him straight into a suit of armor as he was leaving potions, once."
Scorpius tried not to laugh, even as he winced at Albus's use of the Dark Lord's name.
"Besides, if they put me in Slytherin, I think I'll be the first person in my family that wasn't in Gryffindor. You know about the house rivalries, right? I wouldn't want the rest of my family to be made my enemies."
Albus was babbling now.
"I think my father'll be disappointed. He won't let on, but he will be. And definitely, my uncle Ron will flip out. You're a Malfoy, right? Aren't you? Imagine if you ended up in Gryffindor, how your family would react."
"I'd prefer not to, thanks," Scorpius retorted drily. "I'm sure my father would cast an Unforgivable or two on me."
Albus managed a shadow of a laugh in return. They continued that way for a while, joking around and telling stories about their families, unaware of the passage of time. A few hours passed before Scorpius looked up as a group students walked past the compartment door, all already clad in their robes. It was then that he noticed how the clear afternoon had transformed itself into the darkness of night.
"We'd better change. The train'll be at Hogwarts soon."
Albus nodded, got up and left without a word. A second later, he stuck his head back into the compartment.
"Sorry, but I didn't catch your name."
"I'm Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy."
"Okay Scorpius. I'm Albus, but you probably knew that already. I'll see you around, then." Except the last thing wasn't a statement. It was a question. Then, he let the door click shut as he went to his own compartment.
As soon as Albus disappeared from view, Scorpius kicked his trunk in anger. What awful luck that the one tolerable person he had met so far would be a future Gryffindor. And yet, he didn't seem like one. None of that powerful strutting and idiotic babbling about good and evil that his father had told him to expect from them. It didn't matter, though. No doubt Albus had already run into his brother, who had swiftly set him straight about associating with Malfoys.
It would be a miracle if Scorpius ever saw him again and earned more than a glare in return.
He stripped himself of his Muggle garments, loathsome things as they were, and shrugged into his new robes. Hopefully, in a few hours time, he would have a green and silver tie to adorn his collar.
That made him smile. He would make his father proud.
He surveyed himself in the mirror and smoothed down his hair, making sure every strand was in place before sitting back down. About a minute later, he saw Albus's face at the door, hair as untidy as ever.
"Told you I'd see you around."
Less than an hour later, they were exiting the train and being beckoned by a giant man, toward rather unsteady looking boats. They surprisingly didn't capsize as they traversed the surface of the lake. The next few minutes were a blur to him, as he and the other first years were led to a room adjacent to the Great Hall.
A girl with flaming red hair moved to stand next to Albus as they waited for whatever came next.
"Missed you, Al. Where'd you go?"
"Just a bit further from where James was, Rose."
Scorpius glanced back at them as the pair continued their conversation.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't properly introduce you two. Rosie, this is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius, Rose Weasley."
Rose extended her hand instinctively.
If Scorpius had entered the train with any expectations for his first day at Hogwarts, few of them had included befriending a future Gryffindor and none of them included shaking hands with a Weasley. But she had offered, and viewed the situation just as oddly as he, judging from the look on her face.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Scorpius," she managed before releasing his hand.
"Likewise, Rose."
Albus was surprised. That had gone loads better than he'd expected it to. Not a single hex had been cast by either party.
A few seconds passed, and they were called into the Great Hall and lined up in alphabetical order before the Sorting Hat, which sang a song that none of the first years paid particular attention to. There was more to worry about. Scorpius felt his mouth go dry. This was the moment of decision. Well, not quite, as there were several students in front of him. But close enough.
Martin Abercrombie was sorted into Hufflepuff, and the ceremony had officially begun. A thousand what if scenarios played, as if on a reel, through Scorpius's head.
What if he too ended up in Hufflepuff? Or Ravenclaw? Or any other house besides Slytherin? Would his father send him a Howler. What would everyone else say?
"Goyle, Clarisse."
Scorpius looked up just as she became the second person to be sorted into Slytherin. Their table burst into raucous applause as she took her seat beside Aria Zabini, grinning. Slytherin had been on the decline as of late, so every additional student became that much more important.
He watched as the line of people in front of him shortened, until finally,
"Malfoy, Scorpius."
Scorpius swore that his distance hat was growing progressively longer as he walked across the Great Hall. Whispers erupted behind him. The Slytherin table gazed at him expectantly. He glanced at the line of first years, where Albus gave him a small wave. Then, the hat was over his eyes, and he could see no more.
He thought as hard as he could about being placed into Slytherin as the hat probed through his head.
"Well, well, well, young Scorpius." the hat murmured. "Interesting, but difficult. Not as easily placed as Draco, or even Lucius. There's the Slytherin ambition, oh yes. Lots of it. You're definitely a Malfoy, can't be denied…"
Scorpius allowed himself a small sigh of relief.
"I can even detect a certain amount of bravery in you. But your mind is exceedingly keen, even now, before you've taken any proper classes in magic. You've a hunger for knowledge I don't often see so early, or so clearly for that matter. No, I don't think the house of your fathers will do for you. You need to be somewhere that will give you pause, hold you back and cause you to think a bit before acting."
He felt dizzy. It couldn't be. But the hat had just said he had the characteristics of a Slytherin...
"So then, it'll be RAVENCLAW!"
It took a few seconds before the Head Boy began to clap, causing the rest of Ravenclaw table to respond with halfhearted applause. Well, they'd gotten a Malfoy. But if he was anything like Draco, he wouldn't be in their house in the first place, many of them quickly reasoned.
Scorpius felt physically ill as he took his seat. It wasn't fair. How could he be here, and not over there, at the Slytherin table? A dim part of him inwardly laughed at the fact that he would have a good reason to never associate with the Goyle siblings or Aria Zabini. But it was grossly overshadowed by the deep shame that coursed through his body like ice.
It took a bit of time before he was able to pay proper attention to the sorting once more. A familiar boy stood at the front of the line.
"Potter, Albus."
Scorpius allowed his mouth to drop open in dumbfounded shock. Potter? Albus was a Potter?
When he rethought it again, he kicked himself for being so oblivious. How could Albus not be? He was the spitting image of his father. Scorpius had seen pictures of Harry Potter in the Daily Prophet at least once a week when his mother read it. The facial features. The untidy, black hair. The light eyes.
Professor McGonagall put the hat onto Albus's head as soon as the mutters and whispers had died down to their usual volume. Scorpius watched as Albus sat on the stool for an entire minute, mentally pleading with it to be placed into Gryffindor.
Everyone in the Great Hall held their breath as the seconds drew on. Just as Scorpius concluded that the hat had died of indecision, it finally announced its choice in a booming call that echoed off of the walls.
"RAVENCLAW!"
Scorpius was speechless. The entire Gryffindor table stared at the hat in disbelief. The people around him exploded into cheers and applause, and when he found his voice, he was inclined to join them. Albus stumbled toward him, and Scorpius moved aside so he would have somewhere to sit.
"Great to see you." Someone behind Albus said. He nodded weakly at them and turned to Scorpius, whose eyebrow was raised.
"Well, this is certainly an interesting turn of events, isn't it, Potter?"
"Quite."
Albus was pale as snow.
But Scorpius had no time for him at the moment. He craned his neck so he could properly see those sitting at the Slytherin table. Aria Zabini caught his eye and glared venomously at him before returning to her conversation with a nearby fourth year.
"Your mother and I are appalled at this. We thought we'd raised you properly, but evidently…" Draco gestured to his son's Ravenclaw robes.
"I'm sorry, father. Really, I am."
"As you damn well should be. You're a disgrace to the name Malfoy. But no matter. You won't have to worry about that for much longer."
He fumbled around in his robes.
"Father, what are you—"
"You think I'd allow a Ravenclaw to be my heir and carry on my legacy? You really believe I'd do that? Of course not. You won't be a part of me for that much longer." Draco raised his wand. "With this spell, I'll remove you from the Malfoy family."
Years of solitude danced before Scorpius's eyes. Of having no name, no relatives to cling to, of wandering the world alone. A bastard. Rejected by the few people who were supposed to accept him. But how could Father? He'd disappointed him beyond forgiveness.
The second Draco raised his wand, Scorpius was seized by excruciating pain, unlike anything he'd ever experienced.
"Father, please! Father!"
Scorpius awoke in his four-poster bed, drenched with sweat. His heart slammed out a rapid jackhammer beat as he surveyed his surroundings. Oh thank Merlin. It had all been a dream.
Everything was blue. The sheets, the hangings. So unfamiliar.
It was then that he remembered that he was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the Ravenclaw dormitory to be exact. He'd been sorted into Ravenclaw.
So that part hadn't been a dream. Great.
As he slowly adjusted to being awake, he heard a sniffle. A halting gasp. The unmistakable sounds of someone crying. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and moved to investigate.
What was the spell to create light again? He couldn't remember it for the life of him. But the moon streaming through the windows provided some degree of illumination, and it took him exactly three seconds to find the source of the noise.
Albus Potter, who sat in his bed, tears sliding silently down his face, looking at nothing in particular.
"Potter."
Albus looked up at Scorpius and turned away, evidently embarrassed at being seen like this.
"Laugh, why don't you? At the boy who can't handle being alone." He whispered. Scorpius sat down on Albus's bed so he could hear him.
"You're not alone. The dormitory's full of people." Scorpius gestured to the rows of beds before him.
"They're are all sleeping. Besides, I mean friends. Family. Not them. I can't talk to them." Albus explained. Scorpius rolled his eyes.
"And why not? I'm sure everyone would bend over backwards to comfort the son of the Chosen One."
"That's it, though. They only want to be around me because I'm his son. Once they get to know me, figure out that I'm practically nothing like him – couldn't even get into Gryffindor – they'll probably leave. I don't really have anyone in this house. I'm alone, Malfoy."
"At least they don't hate you."
"Yes, Potter, a good majority of the students hate me for things my father did while he was here. Do you know what that is? It's one thing for people to worship you before they know you. But to have people spit at your family as you walk through Hogsmeade? At least if I had ended up in Slytherin, I would have had a few friends. But now…? Unlike you, with your family in Gryffindor, there's not a single person in another house who wants to see me. I have nobody. Absolutely no friends."
It was at that point that Scorpius realized exactly how pitiful his situation was. No doubt Zabini and the Goyles would never speak to him. He was totally alone. He felt the burn behind his eyes and blinked back the weakness that threatened to display itself. When he could look up again, he noticed that Albus was no longer crying. Instead, he merely gazed at him.
"What is it?" Scorpius demanded. Then, he found himself being hugged by the raven-haired boy in front of him.
"I'll be your friend," Albus whispered into the shoulder of Scorpius's pajama shirt. Against his better judgment, Scorpius returned the embrace. They stay that way on Albus's bed, silently brooding for the better part of the night.
The first day of school, and Scorpius had been sorted into Ravenclaw, made enemies of Zabini and Goyle's children, shook hands with a Weasley and befriended a Potter.
What a strange year this was going to be.
Sappy? Yes. Angstier than the poetry of a slighted teenage girl? You bet.
I promise further chapters will be a great deal more interesting.
Review, please?
I'll do my best to respond and reciprocate if you have any stories up.