Hello, my few readers. I know that you liked the old Heir's of Gryffindor, but I went back and added to it. Don't fret I have given the story more movement meaning I can go further with it and I have developed my characters to be more realistic and exciting… So please don't loose hope or roll your eyes, its worth reading on!
Declaimer – To me Harry Potter may seem very much a living and breathing person, however much to my disappointment he is the brain child of the very talented J.K Rolling. Still doesn't mean I can't dream.
Chapter 1 – Unlikely Friends.
The brisk autumn air was fresh and crisp, it still held the life of spring in all its colour and vivacity, yet promised the coming of winter and the cleansing of the earth. The old trees that lined the dirt road were almost bare; a few leaves still left clinging to their branches before they fell playfully to the ground that was decorated with a bustle of red, gold and orange. The wide dirt road that held the secrets of the quaint country town hidden in the almost forgotten countryside that was decorated with a many large dwellings that payed homage to old English architecture and stood with a distinct sense of aristocracy. One of these old houses in particular expressed the very sense of nobility, landed gentry of homes. Its cobble stone drive weaved off of the main road, standing at an age old sentry was a large wrought iron grate and at the foot of the gate stood a lone figure, dressed very strangely in a dark hooded cloak that fell to the dirt at their feet. The only sign of life or movement coming from the lone figure was the constant breath of condensation that protruded from their hood.
The old manor remained equally as still, the only apparent occupants being the royal blue peacocks' that clucked and marched with a false sense of authority. The figure stood there for sometime, the autumn leaves falling around them from late morning well into the afternoon, they did not move.
It wasn't until the last rays of the sun where creeping from the sky that a figure from the old house appeared walking briskly, almost breaking into a run down the long drive black robes billowing behind them.
The figure at the gate still did not move.
As the crunch of the figure from the house became louder and louder still.
The figure at the gate still did not move.
When the figure from the house reached the gate and pulled back its hood revealing an aged woman with long platinum blonde hair that was almost grey and arrogantly attractive features trademark of the house of Black. She had an exhilarated expression a gleam in her eye that was almost frenzied and she grasped the gate with a hysterical urgency.
The figure at the gate still did not move.
Instead the woman from the house broke the silence.
"It's a boy," she said slightly euphoric, "a boy," she repeated seemingly out of breath.
The figure merely nodded and turned to walk away.
"Wait," the woman called, "what does this mean?"
The figure paused looked back at the woman.
"What does it mean?" the woman said frantically shaking the gate.
Without a word the figure disappeared with a loud crack.
"Wait," the woman cried out again, "what does it mean?"
At very same moment amongst the hustle and bustle of London, above the sounds of cars and busses and the tap of hundreds of hurrying feet a young a young muggle man walked back and forth rocking his baby girl to sleep for the very first time. His wife in her bed frizzy curls still stuck to her head in sweat slept as he whispered to his daughter.
"… and your mummy slipped down the stairs grabbing onto Grandma Eileen's skirt and ripped it off before falling head long into her birthday cake, and that moment right there little one is the moment I fell in love with her… and it was lucky I did because four years later we got you."
As the tall man with chocolate brown hair gazed upon his daughter a figure in a black cloak watched from the window at the door, but before the man looked up the figure was gone.
Across the infamous Thames in Saint Mungo's maternity ward a rather large wizarding family made up mostly of redheads sat in the waiting room were all they could hear were the cries of pain and the insults a certain feisty redhead witch was hurling towards her husband, hidden under his mop of sweaty black hair his lightning bolt scar was still as visible as ever.
"You bastard Harry Potter," she screamed as another wave of pain hit her.
"Your doing really well Ginny, just remember to breath and when the doctor says push," Harry said surprisingly calm
"Push, PUSH?" Ginny said in disbelief, "how about you push, you're the one that did this to me you good for nothing, none contraceptive using arsehole,"
Molly Weasly widened her eyes in disbelief at her daughters foul language.
"Got quite an imagination in tight spots our Ginny, what was she called him when James was born?" Arthur Weasly chuckled,, "Ah that's right a horny big mouthed git," he remembered chuckling again.
"Was that before or after she hit him with the bat-bogey hex?" George asked his eyes gleaming with laughter.
"Just before," Bill answered with a smile at the memory of Harry presenting his first born with bat bogeys hanging from his glasses and hair.
"Poor Harry," Ron said glancing at Hermione who was 8 months pregnant with a gulp.
Hermione noticing this went to comment but before she had the chance another scream exploded from Ginny and she wad transfixed into silence when the soft cry of a baby was heard.
Before long Harry entered the room cradling his second son for the first time.
"It's a boy," he announced proudly unable to tear his eyes away from the bundle of gurgles in his arms.
The family exploded with excitement everyone wanting to cradle the second Potter child.
"So what will you call him," Percy asked when the excitement had died down.
"Albus," Harry answered almost immediately, "Albus Severus Potter,"
Everybody looked at Harry in surprise, it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
"A proud and worthy name," Arthur Weasly said in awe.
"A proud name indeed," Molly agreed
A dark cloaked figure watched the family from a distance down the hall and a small smile pulled at the corner of its mouth as it watched Harry with his new found family.
"Albus Severus Potter," was all it said before it disappeared around the corner but not with going unnoticed, Harry curious as ever quickly excused his self and rushed down the hall rounding the corner just in time.
"Professor McGonagall?" he called out receiving a few dirty glances from passers by.
The figure paused and turned to look at the young Wizard.
"How many times Mr. Potter, do I have insist you call me Minerva" the stern voice of the Head Mistress asked taking Harry back to his school days almost immediately.
"As many as I have to insist on you calling me Harry," he rebutted with a cheeky grin and earning him a light chuckle from the older woman.
"May ask to what we owe the pleasure?" He asked in good nature.
Minerva McGonagall pushed back her hood to reveal a look of worry.
"It appears there has been another prophecy Mr. Potter," she answered as stern as ever, "and it appears to involve your son,"
Harrys face fell and with out another word Minerva left, leaving Harry it a state of shock in the middle a hall in the maternity ward of Saint Mungo's. His mind a tangle of bad memories and a new found worry for his son, barely an hour from his mother's womb and young Albus was already making an all too familiar mark on the world.
-ooo-
It was the way his father stood taller, puffed out his chest and thrust his nose higher in the air when he saw them that made Scorpius Malfoy curious about the rather large red/black haired family gathering at platform 9 ¾ laughing and joking amongst one another. Scorpius was an attractive boy that shared his fathers white blonde hair and his mother's electric blue eyes however he did not share either their snobby arrogance or taste in anything; including people.
Mr. & Mrs. Malfoy preferred to associate themselves with pureblood families with traditional pureblood beliefs and they chose to hold extravagant parties within their oversized manor every fortnight and otherwise left the raising of their son to the house elves. Perhaps it was the neglect that Scorpius had become so accustomed to that made the way that Harry Potter talk to his youngest son seem like the single most thing that young Malfoy desired in the world.
In an obvious impatience to be done with his current surroundings, especially after spotting the infamous Potter – Wesley clan, Draco Malfoy muttered a poor justification for his sudden need to leave and made a beeline out of the platform his equally arrogant wife in tow.
Scorpius would be lying if he said he wasn't at all bothered by his parents apparent lack of interest in his life, seemingly unable of any form of nurture or care, he however was relieved to be free of the Malfoy Manor, chandeliers and peacocks, having grown a severe distaste to the over grown chickens that strutted the gardens causing him to spend a majority of his young life unable to venture out side without being attacked. Unlike his parents the young Master Malfoy had grown into a rather decent, honest and well – mannered young boy a great deal due to a house elf by the name of Blinker. So with both determination and an over-whelming feeling of bitterness towards his parents Scorpius Malfoy boarded the Hogwarts Express.
Albus Severus Potter sat up against the compartment window, staring absently out at the passing scenery, chewing his thumb nail and tapping his foot nervously on the floor. No matter how accepting his family or loving his father was Albus was defiantly set against and in all honesty repulsed by the idea of being in slytherin. As mush as the young Potter did not hold any prejudice against any body in slytherin he was aware that a majority of the dark witches and wizards of the last 50 years had originated in slytherin and no matter how brave one of them was it was not a good reflection of the people the sorting hat chose to adorn in silver and green.
"Oh, for goodness sake Albus will you please stop tapping!", Rose snapped at him over the top of a rather large book.
Rose, even though her hair was the typical Weasley red had inherited a majority of her charm and brains off of her mother, and her temper off her father. She was a moderately pretty girl, her red hair was bushy and unruly much like her mothers and she spent a majority of her time with her nose in a rather large book, not unlike the one she had momentarily lowered to glare at Albus.
""m Sorry" Albus replied. He and Rose being cousins had practically grown up together, he knew that face and that face was not his friend. So immediately he stopped his tapping and tried to focus on something else. So directing his full attention to the scenery that was racing past Albus settled on counting the sheep.
1 sheep… 2 sheep… that's at least half a dozen there. Hopefully I'm in Gryffindor like mum, dad and James… what am I up to, oh yeah 9… 10… or at least anything but Gryffindor… 11… 12. Dad said you could ask the hat… 13… That's what I'll do… I'll ask it… I'll tell it not to put me in slytherin and that I want to be in Gryffindor… yes that will work! Except… what if it doesn't listen. What if it puts me in slytherin cause I asked it not too…
"ALBUS", Rose snapped rather annoyed "YOU'RE TAPPING AGAIN"
"Oh" Albus sat up quiet startled. Reading Roses face sent a small shiver down his spine, if looks could kill Rose's looks where the equivalent of Avada Kenundra, or the Cruiciatus curse.
So decidedly with his life at stake Albus tried with as much determination he could muster not to think about the up coming sorting and began to munch on the sandwich his mother had packed. Before long he copped the rather large book Rose had been reading to the head. At this Albus made a strategic retreat and left Rose to her tantrum to explore the rest of the train.
As soon as he closed the compartment door Albus was forced to flatten up against the wall to avoid being knocked over by his brother and his gang of second year Gryffindor boys. James being their leader was the first running with his wand pointed in the air shooting out multi-coloured sparks, he was followed closely by Daniel Farmington, a dark haired boy around the same height as James with his hair sticking in every direction, looking some what like a startled porcupine. Salvador Scully, a blonde boy with thick glasses, his robes much to large for his weight but much to short for his height and George Gardener a plump boy with ginger hair brought up the rear, chasing them was a very annoyed Slytherin fifth year whose face was blacked and his eyebrows had been badly singed. It seemed James and his crew weren't concerned with the size of their victims because Albus had to suck himself in to make room for the human gorilla.
Shaking his head and walking the other way Albus found himself immersed in completely different side of the magical world, of course he had been apart of it since he was born and his parents had never made any attempt to live a magic free life however the Hogwarts Express showed a different side of it altogether, a side without purpose. As he passed open corridors he saw girls attempting to jinx their hair into curling, or change colour. Boys levitating each other, one was even endeavouring to magically write something on his mate who had unfortunately fallen asleep.
When Albus had finally made his way to the very end of the train realising he was still too restless to return to his compartment with Rose set about walking to front of the train. Again whilst reaching the front of the train he knew he could not yet returns, so off to the end of the train he went. When he was about two thirds of the way down Albus heard James unmistakable chuckle and realising just time jumped into an empty corridor just as one of James home made fireworks whizzed past his ear. Taking a deep breath and deciding this place was as good as any to wait out the nerve racking train ride to Hogwarts he took a seat when a voice made him jump.
"I used to think people where just ignoring me… But I'm starting to wonder whether I'm just invisible altogether",
Looking around the compartment Albus noticed for the first time a blonde haired boy sitting in the corner away from the window concealed to anyone when they first entered the compartment.
"No really… yesterday a bird flew into my head… and I'm not sure about you but I seem to go un-noticed a lot… Come to think of it… it's not such a bad thing"
A bit taken back Albus had seemed to have forgotten his manners and realising this and how disappointed his mother would be he nodded his head and offered his had towards the boy.
"Sorry… 'm Albus.. Albus Potter, I'm a first year".
"Scorpius Malfoy", Scorpius said returning the nod and accepting the hand shake. "I'm a first year too." He continued with an understanding smirk. "What house d' ya reckon you'll be in?"
After taking a moment to consider what he should say Albus shrugged his shoulders and decided honestly was the best way to go.
"Gryffindor" Albus answered hopefully "or at least I hope so… my whole family in is Gryffindor".
"Gryffindor aye" Scorpius returned considering for a while and then with a slight nod of approval he finished "yeah… I hope I'm in Gryffindor too".
The two boys sat considering each other for a short minute both sizing each other up, and at the end of the minute both sat back and began to talk about the year to come, how much they both wanted to be in Gryffindor and the first thing they were going eat at the feast. By the time the Hogwarts Express had pulled up at Hogsmede Station the two young boys had become the most unlikely friends.
A/N –