Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, never will be, never have been. All of the characters are her Genius, and not mine. Hope you like.

CHAPTER 1

'You have half an hour... I never want to see you again – you betraying peice of filth' he spat. The anger in his eyes came out, as it had done several times since my enrollment in Hogwarts. His voice rose from a deadly silence to a lion roar. But it wasn't my fault, i thought. But it was. The hat only sees what is inside you. The hat is delirious, then. No. The hat must have seen something in me, something significant, because I didn't end up being what he wanted. Somewhere along the line, between leaving my fathers' overprotective arms and sitting on that stool, everything I believed in, changed.

Hogwarts Feast and Sorting Ceremony 2014

The first years in the Trophy room waiting to be sorted. Scorpius was standing to the right of the Gryffindor ghost. The ghost turned to reveal a large abrasion across his neck. Scorpius stared.

'You're a Slytherin, yes?' The ghost sized him up.

'I've not been sorted yet Mr... Sir-'

'Yes, but you are a Malfoy, are you not?'

'What does it matter?'

'I saw your father, your grandfather, your great-grandfather, all be put into...'

'Slytherin, yeah.'

'So you would not know the origins of my demise?'

'Er...'

'I thought not. I guessed you would not see your great-uncle much?'

'I don't have a great-uncle, sir'

'Sir Nick to you. And since we are friends, you and me, a word of advise: Don't ask the Bloody Baron where he got his chains. I did once, gosh, I thought I'd died twice... Nevermind. Curious about your great-uncle, that...' And with that, Sir Nick turned to glide out of the room, completely unaware of the unfinished conversation he had left.

'Well, that was odd'said Louis, who had watched the entire occurance. 'He didn't even tell you the story of his untimely demise!'

'I was more concerned about the mystery great-uncle that I don't know.'

'He probably died – I mean it would have been the 1900's or something. The cure for dragonpox hadn't been invented yet. Anyway, Nearly Headless Nick is great – I can tell you the story. He gets caught by muggles and is beheaded. He said it was some governmental conspiracy, but really he just got caught and fogot the right spell. The muggles, they aren't very good at cutting peoples heads off and they did a bit of a botched job.' And with that, he too walked off ot join the Scamander twins, leaving Scorp quite bewhildered. It was at that point that Proffessor Longbottom came into the room and dismally tried to subdue them.

Proffessor Longbottom didn't need to subdue them. The look and atmosphere in the great hall was enough to calm them. Scorpius gasped at the amazing hall. It was a wonderful sight. A grand hall with enough Hogwarts in it to make one feel right at home. Scorpius stared up at the celing, but there wasn't one. It was a mirror of the sky outside, which, fortunately, was clear and bright.

'It's bewiched, to mimic the night sky. I read it in Hogwarts, A History' said Louis, at Scorpius' side again. 'Are you ok?'

'I'm fine. I just never knew how nice hogwarts was.' Scorpius said, feeling as though he had just got home after walking in the cold rain. They entered through the main entrance, walking between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables. Sitting at the Gryffindor table was a large group of red-heads. Weasleys, Scorpius realised, relating his situation to many lectures he had recieved on 'red-head riff-raffs'. Yet again, they caught him staring. They sniffed, and turned to wave at the youngest weasleys, who were standing a few rows behind him. Scorpius stoped walking abruptly, as they had come to the front of the hall. There, sitting on a rickety stool was the hat. It was older and more worn than it had been in Draco Malfoys' time, but never the less, it slowly opened its' eyes to sing a song.

Slytherin departed

not for purity or law,

The predjudice, it started

After he stomped out the door.

The hogwarts hat sorts through you

Chooses who is brave or loyal

It creates never ending rivalry

Like a beaker set to boil

What I must now tell you

After seeing through it all,

That the anger isn't worth it,

We are one house in this hall

Slytherin left to find

Muggles with your powers

What he returned to find

Was isolated towers

The goal that he wanted

Was our hearts to beat as one

But what he ended up with

Was students causing pain for fun

'How illuminating' Said Louis as he waved to his family. 'We are supposed to be over the moon for snake speaking idiots – sorry'

'S'ok. Your father was parseltoungue too, you know.' And with that Scorpius left to push to the front of the group, to get a better look at the hat and hear what the proffessor was saying.

'...When I call your name, come up to the stool, be seated and I will place the hat on your head. When you are told what your house is, you may go to that house. No maiming the hat, no running off with the hat, no shouting at the hat, no questioning the hats' judgement, no stamping on the hat, no threatening the hat and no eating the hat. Got it?'

'Yes sir' we chorused. Nobody wanted to run the risk of going first, so we kept our mouths shut. They began alphabetically, and I was M. That meant i'd be a good halfway down the list.

'Emily Abbott'

'HUFFLEPUFF'. This resulted in a cheer from the mentioned house, and the child would place the hat on the stool and run off, probably to join a sibling or cousin.

'Elisabeth Bowden'

'RAVENCLAW'

'Jonathon Bridges'

'HUFFLEPUFF'

'Eric Creevey'

'GRYFFINDOR'

Finally - 'Scorpius Malfoy'. He stood, went over to the stool, like everyone else. He looked around nervously and three hundred students looked expectantly back. He picked up the hat delicately, as it was rather old and manky. The hat was a thousand years old. It wasn't the same since the Dark Lord tried to destroy it at the hight of the Hogwarts Battle. After a moment of the hat being on his head, everyone realised something was wrong. The hat wasn't moving. It wasn't muttering. Therealisation gripped everyone. That was dead. Joy.

Proffessor Longbottom broke out in a sweat – this couldn't happen! It was unheard of. Unless the hat was just sleeping, thought Scorpius. Don't be rediculous, hats don't sleep. Hats don't talk and see into peoples' minds, either. Just keep your eyes down. Don't look up. And don't laugh. He looked up. But he didn't laugh. Albus stood with the other first years, looking concerned. The teachers behind him sounded more than just concerned.

'The hat doesn't just die Minerva, it is a powerful magical object-'

'I know, but it is hardly taking a nap in the middle of sorting, it just isn't done.'

'Not teh interupt, but maybe we should be taking the hat off the wee childs' head before jumpin' teh conclusions like tha'?'

'What do we do without the hat? It doesn't just die. It never has before. Who would sort the students?'

'Just get it off that poor boys' head, someone, please!'

'It's obvious where he'll go anyway – he's a Malfoy!'

That was when Proffessor Longbottom came up to Scorpius to remove the dead hat from his head. And Just as he lifted the hat off his head, it muttered one word: Gryffindor.

Damn.