There will always be a certain element of extremists on either side, left or right, who no mainstream news outlet is going to satisfy.

-Jonathan Klein

Disclaimer: If you people think I'm JK Rowling, then you're insane.

Scorpius

I had never understood why, but my parents had always encouraged me to join my mother's House. Of course she told me that it really didn't matter where you were Sorted, as long as you were happy there, but I could always tell she silently agreed with my father. Still, they never said why. I never heard much about Slytherin House, except from my granddad reminding me it's been in the family for centuries. He liked to tell me stories about his school years, and when I asked him if it had changed and that was why my father didn't want me in there, he said no. It was the same wonderful Hogwarts House as it was sixty years ago, as it was thousands of years ago, and as it always will be. I concluded that my father's taste simply wasn't the same as my granddad, and I should probably let the Sorting Hat decide where I belong, and as long as I wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor, my granddad wouldn't convince my father to disown me.

Still, I was very scared. I wondered if the Sorting Hat would place me in that dreadful House, just to be mean. My parents never really talked about it much, since neither of them had been Gryffindors, but my granddad often told me terrible things about it. However, he told me many terrible things about everything, so sometimes it was hard to tell what was actually bad. For example, sometimes he would say blood purity determined how good of a wizard you were, but then again my father once mentioned that the most skilled witch of his Year was a Muggle-born, so it couldn't really be true. I decided to figure it out for myself once I got to school. Unfortunately, there was so much to learn once I got there, that I worried I would forget about all the things I intended to figure out!

And so there I was, at the station and scared as hell about not learning enough. At least, I thought to myself, I am adopting a good schooling attitude.

Although the train had already arrived there on platform nine and three-quarters, I couldn't bring myself to the door. All of my friends were at least a year younger than me, though I didn't have too many to begin with since I had grown up through homeschooling.

My mum smiled at me, easily recognizing my discomfort. "It's alright, Scor. Hogwarts was some of the best years of my life. You'll love it." I smiled back at her nervously. My father pat my head, and told me the same.

"But I'm going to miss you." My mum's smile faltered, and I could tell she was going to miss me a lot, too, but she didn't say anything. "I'm going to miss him, too." I pointed to her belly, which had been growing steadily for the past few months.

"How do you know it's a boy?" she asked me.

"Because I know." I crossed my arms in a matter-of-fact way, and she rolled her eyes. I think she wanted a girl, though. My father once told me that most women do.

And then he gave me a rare smile, and he said to me, "Just because you'll miss it being born, doesn't mean you won't get to see it when you come back." He was right, but I still wanted to meet the baby. "Go on, then. We'll write to you as often as we can." I nodded, and took the remaining courageous steps it took to get to the train. With one last goodbye, I waved my hand, and then quickly hauled my luggage through before I could change my mind and run back to them.

The compartment I chose was completely empty. Since I didn't know anyone, and the compartment would have to be filled by somebody, I decided to let fate choose my new friends.

Sooner or later, two nervous looking kids that looked about my age entered. The one in the lead was a slightly more determined looking red-haired girl, and the other was a boy with shabby black hair who wore a much shyer expression. I opened my mouth, ready to give them a welcoming "hello", but I quickly stopped myself, realizing they were in mid-conversation.

"I just don't understand why we couldn't have sat with our cousins! We're only two years younger than James and Louis." The red-haired girl seemed pretty upset. Her arms were crossed and her ears were turning slightly pink. "Now we don't get to sit with anyone we know."

The boy bit his lip. "You know I can't sit with James. He thinks I'm going to end up in Slytherin. You know I just can't. My dad said that it doesn't matter, but what if I do?" I stared at the boy, amazed. He was turned off by my father's family House, too. Perhaps that really did mean there was something bad about it.

"Being near him isn't going to make you any more likely to end up there," she said, but then her voice softened, and gained the same reassuring tone my mum used sometimes when I was upset. "You don't need to worry about it. We'll both end up in Gryffindor for sure." I felt a sudden distaste for them. My granddad told me Gryffindors were obnoxious, arrogant, and any other bad name you could call a wizard. He said that one even made him give the family's old house elf a sock! I'm not really sure what that means, though.

The boy shrugged, unconvinced, but didn't say anything else about it. "This way we'll make real friends, instead of clinging to family the whole time." He looked at me and pointed. "Look! He looks good."

I jumped, and gave the pair a small smile. "Hello. I'm Scorpius Malfoy." The girl snorted. "What?"

"You have a funny name."

My jaw dropped, appalled at her rudeness, but did my best to keep calm. "Care to tell me yours?"

She smiled brightly. "Rose Weasley." When the boy didn't speak, she introduced him as Albus Potter. Suddenly, a look I couldn't quite understand spread across her face. "Now wait just a minute! You're the boy my dad pointed out!"

I blinked, confused. "Is he mental?"

"Excuse me?" There was an edgy quality in her voice that made me want to smile. "How the hell did you decide that?"

I shrugged. "I just think it's weird that your fathers pointing me out to you." Quickly, she pulled her hand over her face, but I could still see it well enough to tell she was blushing. "What did I say? You're acting like he told you to marry me or something."

For the first time, Potter spoke. "Actually I overheard him telling her to notmarry a pureblood." He seemed quite pleased with himself for giving out this bit of information, especially because it caused her to make a small noise and shudder, but there was still a quiet tone in his voice, as if he wasn't sure whether he was allowed to speak. I couldn't blame Weasley for feeling embarrassed, because that made me embarrassed, too. Perhaps, even, a little bit ashamed.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong with being a pureblood?" I hoped to God they wouldn't misinterpret my question.

Thankfully, they didn't. Weasley's face returned to its normal color, and she shrugged. "I don't know. My dad is, and I don't see anything wrong with him. I guess they just have a bad reputation, like how people used to call Muggle-borns 'Mudbloods' because they weren't pure enough, except the opposite." It sounded as if she had done a lot of research on the subject, the way she talked about it. I began to wonder if they would make up a cruel nickname for purebloods, too. I sure hoped not.

"I'm sure some people still say that word," I told her, thinking of my granddad. He said it all the time, but I'd never known exactly what it meant, because my parents were always unclear when I asked. They always sort of shooed me off and only said for me not to say it. (Of course, this meant that, as a child, I would say the word constantly just to annoy them.)

Weasley sighed, and I got a feeling that she already knew that. "Anyways," she said in a high voice, clearing her throat to make it obvious she wanted to change the subject, "my dad was telling me to beat you in every test. He wasn't just pointing you out to be mental or anything."

I stared at her for a second, wondering why she had decided to bring that whole thing up again, when suddenly Potter burst out laughing. He was in absolute hysterics! I thought something must be seriously wrong with him. Weasley's face began to match her hair, and I think mine might've, too, because I had a feeling he was also laughing at me. What was his deal, anyways?

We actually ended up having great fun on that ride. Weasley and Potter turned out to be quite alright. When the train attendant came with food, the pair was quick to pull out money to trade for sweets. It made me feel embarrassed to not have much money to spare. I pulled out a few coins and bought a single chocolate frog so they wouldn't figure out my family situation. I didn't want to look poor on front of my new potential friends.

"That's it?" said Weasley, pointing out my single sweet. "Well, now I feel like a pig." She, herself, seemed as if she was covered with sweets. Pumpkin pasties, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, licorice wands, and more, toppled over the two of them. Even more, Potter had pulled out a box of sweets from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"No, it's okay. I ate before the train, so I'm almost stuffed," I lied. Then, I proceeded to open the chocolate frog, ready to hungrily devour it, when the frog launched itself beyond the window, and out of my reach. I did my best to shield my disappointment. Pretending I didn't care, I pulled out the card, hoping it would be a good one. I frowned.

"What's wrong?" asked Potter. "Not the one you want?" I shook my head. "Too bad. That happens to me a lot. Whenever I get a really good one, my mum steals it, too." He ripped open one of his, completely ignoring the escaping frog. "Now that will never happen again!" he exclaimed triumphantly. He held out a card to Weasley, with the happiest look on his face."

"Albus Dumbledore," she said in a monotone.

Potter's grin fell to disappointment, and he began to closely examine the card, as if he was expecting it to transfigure itself into something else. "I get him all the time. He's probably the most common card. All the old ones, especially, come up a lot."

I wasn't very interested in the rarity of Potter's namesake. "Why does your mum take your good cards away?" Chocolate frogs seemed like a silly thing for someone's mum to be interested in. "Which ones does she take?"

"I don't know," he said. "Every time I get one, she opens it for me. I'm not allowed to open one by myself. Neither is Rose. My brother can, though, and it's not fair." Their families seemed weird. My parents had raised me to be independent, which wasn't achieved by them opening my sweets. "Who did you get, anyways?"

I held out my card. "Some woman I don't know about. She had something to do with the war, but I don't really know what it was about. My father fought in it, so he doesn't like to talk about it. He says it brings back too many bad memories."

As Potter continuously stared at the dumb card, Weasley gave me a sympathetic look. "Our parents were in the war, too. They don't like to talk about it much, either. No one in our family does."

"I think most families were involved one way or another, at least in Hogwarts, because the last battle took place there," I said. Weasley nodded her head in agreement.

"Rosie," Potter said anxiously, completely unfazed by our conversation. "The card!"

Weasley frowned. "What about that stupid card?" she asked, obviously annoyed with his lack of attention span.

"I think we found your mum's doppelganger! See?" He showed the card to Weasley. "It looks just like her." She rolled her eyes at me, smirking, and then turned her head to look at it. She gasped, the doubt completely washed from her face. "What?"

"It's not her bloody doppelganger, Albus! It's her," she exclaimed. "Look. 'Hermione Granger,'" she read. "It really is my mum."

All three of us were blown away. "Well, it must have something to do with the war," I said, amazed that I could possibly be sitting with the children of war heroes-real heroes, not just people who were involved. "What's it say?" I could hardly contain my excitement.

"Wait just a minute!" Weasley exclaimed. "I haven't read it." Just as she flipped the card to the other side, a boy similar in appearance to Potter burst in, and we all jumped.

"Oh, God, you!" Potter shouted. He was absolutely, positively startled.

The older boy smirked, clearly enjoying our surprise. "Actually, the name's James, but I understand the confusion." He flipped his messy black hair, and chuckled to himself, while we all stared at him blankly. I realized exactly why Potter didn't want to sit with this James. He was an arrogant bastard.

"What are you doing here?" Frustration dripped from Potter's mouth. "Go sit with your friends."

"I was, but-" He froze, and I followed his line of sight. He was staring at the card. All amusement drained from his face, and he cussed under his breath. Before either Weasley or Potter could do anything about it, he snatched the card away. "Oh! You found my card," he said a little too quickly, and he laughed nervously to himself. "What'd you read on it?" His voice had changed to a more serious tone.

"It's Aunt Hermi-" Weasley kicked Potter. "Nope we didn't see anything on it. Lily must've put it in my trunk and thought it was mine."

The boy coughed. "Oh, yeah that must've been it." Even if I hadn't been the one to have gotten that card, I would've known he was lying. "Just my Morgan le Fay. 'Lost my other one, so I don't want to lose this one, too." I hoped he would give me my card back after we got off the train. He sat down next to me, giving an awkward smile that could have been charming, if not for the situation. "So you're Rosie and Albie's new pal, aren't you?"

I snorted, and Potter shot me a dirty look. "Albie?"

He laughed. "It's just the family nickname for him. No more convenient than saying 'Albus,' but it annoys the hell out of him." He pinched his cheek for emphasis. "I'm his brother, James Potter." He gave me a firm handshake. "I'm a Second Year in Gryffindor. Hopefully I'll see you in the common room." I gave a weak smile, knowing my granddad would kill me if he did. "Rosie's my cousin. You'll find a Weasley in every house except Slytherin, so you'll make friends with at least one of us no matter where you are." I nodded, hoping they were all like Potter and Weasley. "You're going to love Hogwarts! Oh, and what's your name? If you have older siblings, I might know them."

I shook my head. "No, I'm an only child at the moment, but I'm going to have a little brother soon." I noticed Weasley smile when I said that. "My name is Scorpius Malfoy."

He frowned. It wasn't a mean frown, but one that showed he was deep in thought. "Malfoy . . . Malfoy . . . That sounds familiar. You don't have any family that was involved in the war, do you?" he asked.

"My dad and my paternal grandparents," I said. "Why?"

"I know I've heard that name somewhere, and you learn about the war a bit during history. Professor Binns made someone write a list of names split up by each side, but everyone was asleep. I just happened to wake up towards the end when they were erasing them." I couldn't understand how anyone could fall asleep during history, when it was so fascinating.

"How come he made someone else write it up?" I asked.

"Because he's a ghost who doesn't know how to stop teaching. I wish he had moved on like the majority of wizards when he died, though, because he's bloody boring. That way he could've made way for a more fun teacher." I had never met a ghost before. "So are you aimed for Gryffindor like Rosie is?"

"I am too!"

"We all know you're going to end up in rotten Slytherin. There's no use pretending." Potter looked very upset, but his brother was clearly only teasing.

"My parents want me to be in Ravenclaw, but I don't think I really care," I said. "I don't know anyone who goes there now, so there isn't anyone in particular that I hope I end up with." Weasley and Potter looked offended.

"Fair enough," he continued, "but hopefully if you're not in Ravenclaw, you end up with us." The other two nodded in agreement. "I'm guessing that's your parents' House?"

I nodded. "My mum was in Ravenclaw, but my father was in-" I stopped myself, remembering what they thought of his House. "Yeah, they were in Ravenclaw."

"You sure? Because it sounded like you were going to say something else. It's okay if he was in Hufflepuff, you know. Some people think they're pathetic, but they're really not. One of my cousins is a Hufflepuff, and the most popular girl of her Year."

I shook my head, ashamed. "To be honest, he was in Slytherin." Then, before they could process what I had just said, "But he really doesn't want me in there so he must have absolutely hated it."

The three of them just looked at me quietly. Finally, Weasley piped up, "Which side was he on in the war?"

"Obviously he was on the side that won! Otherwise he would be in bloody Azkaban! He-" But then I stopped myself. I had never thought to ask. Never once had I questioned my father's honor as a good person. He had never mentioned anything about the war except the basics, not even his own part in it. Probably because it was self-explanatory that he was on the good side. "My father doesn't believe blood purity matters."

"If you say so," said Potter's brother darkly, "but I've got my eye on you." He left our compartment, and I stared at my feet.

A few minutes later, Weasley broke the chilling silence. "It's alright, Scorpius. I'm sure he just doesn't want you in there because all the other Slytherins were evil. He must've been one of the few good ones, and that would have been very lonely for him. He probably just wants you to have friends with the same morals, because he couldn't."

"I hope you're right." I felt bad for calling them by their surnames in my head all that time, and made a mental note to change that from then on.

"I know I'm right," she said, and gave me a smile.

To cheer me up, Albus gave me his Dumbledore card in order to compensate for my lost one that James stole. I didn't have a Dumbledore, either, so I was pleased all the same. Albus said he was going to steal it back from his brother for me, but I told him he didn't need to. I wasn't an avid collector of chocolate frog cards, so it didn't matter too much to me. "Suit yourself."

The rest of the train ride was relatively uneventful. We changed into our robes, and discussed our excitement until the train docked at the Hogwarts station. The sky was black by the time we got there, and the three of us were groggy from such a long trip, but when we got out to have our first taste of Hogwarts air, and caught sight of the brilliant castle off in the distance, all our drowsiness vanished.

A large man clothed in dirty robes and a messy beard held up a lantern, waiting for us. "Firs' Years! Firs' Years, follow me," he called, beckoning us with his guiding light. As Rose, Albus, and I crowded towards the man, as I took another deep breath of the fresh air. This was it. My wizarding life had just begun.