Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Any of it.

Hi, everyone! This is my first foray into Harry Potter territory and I'm extremely nervous/excited. I'm no newbie at this, this is actually my 27th fic on this site! But it is the most ambitious novel I've written yet (I've got one hideous carcass of a novel that is unfinished and no one should ever read but I can't bring myself to delete, and another that's still being written). So whilst I'm not a total noob, I am aware that my writing isn't perfect and I always welcome constructive criticism/feedback of any kind. I'd love it if you're willing to be an active reader of this fic, but I'm also just really glad you're reading at all!

I'll be updating every other Friday, by the way.

Well, without further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 1: King's Cross

Tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap.

Scorpius drummed his fingers on his desk beside the book lying open on the desk in front of him. His other hand swung lazily like a slow pendulum at his side. Through the window, he looked down the immaculately straight row of topiary hedges, sitting like green pine cones on the uniformly green grass. The white peacocks strutted around, bobbing their heads in the summer air and fluttering their equally strangely clean feathers. Their red eyes gleamed eerily in the sunlight, like the eyes on those horrifying muggle dolls. Everything outside was so perfect, so meticulously manicured, that it was almost imperfect. It only followed suit that he'd be there to balls it all up.

Tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap.

Scorpius Malfoy, it would be fair to say, was not the average young boy. He wasn't even ordinary by the standards of the rest of Britain. He was a wizard, for one, and a Malfoy to boot. The grand old family had faded to just two remaining wizards in the twenty-first century. Summer at the Malfoy Manor these days could be a quiet affair. It was just him, Scorpius, the Scorpion Lord and Number One Screw Up of the Malfoy Family, and his father. No other family around anymore - either in Azkaban, dead, or frankly just a little bit too uncomfortable to be around - so Christmas could be chilly no matter if there was snow or not. Scorpius' father was just as strange as he was, even by the wizarding world's standards. Tall, grand, and a shadow of the man he once was. Even if Scorpius had never been normal for a boy or a wizard or a Malfoy, his father once had been. Two years ago, Scorpius' mother had died and so had his father's soul. Any laughter or joy that echoed in these empty halls was just the sound of Scorpius laughing at his own jokes. Summers in the Malfoy Manor really were a quiet affair. Scorpius spent his days in his room; his father spent the weekdays at work and the weekends in his room. Until last year they'd even eat separately - if his father ate at all. But at least they did have a semi-forced conversation with dinner every evening now.

A sigh.

He unceremoniously threw himself back in the chair, letting his head fall as he stared up at the ceiling. Twinkling in the glorious sunshine that heralded the last days of summer were the stars his father had conjured there when he was a child. It was Scorpius who'd decided to redecorate the house in the summer of his fourth year on the coaxing of Albus and a few other Slytherin friends with him - their dorm mates, Max Flint, Joshua Abbott, and Alfie Campbell, and even Albus' older, cooler brother - but sadly not Scorpius' favourite of the extended Weasley family. They'd painted the dull, monochromatic house with ferociously bright colours. The emerald of Slytherin, and the silver that shimmered with it; James' insistence of getting at least some Gryffindor red and gold on the walls, and from there it was whatever paint they could get their hands on in as large a quantity as they could. Blue, yellow, orange - sometimes even pink. The house looked a bit like one of those dodgy muggle paintings. It looked messy and weird, and as soon as he came of age, he was most definitely going to figure out how to change most of the colours of the walls. But at least for now it was bright, lively, and not the walls that had watched all the abuse of the past centuries. It helped to absolve some of the oppressive, unspoken guilt that hung heavily on the walls of this house. His father eventually came round to the idea, emerging from his self-imposed imprisonment and helping out the boys. And when Scorpius' friends had needed to go home after a few days, Scorpius and his father had finally managed to bond as they painted over the sins of their past family. The only room that never changed was his father's - because of the fingerprints of his mother that still littered the walls.

He pushed himself upright, closing Herbology for Advance Herbologists. It gave an intimidating thunk, and he turned to see the anthropomorphised mint plant on the front cover frowning menacingly.

"Sorry." He shrugged, apologising softly. The face seemed to placate, returning to its usually vacant absent-minded stare. Either the book cover really was moving, or this place had finally driven him mad.

Today was the 31st of August - and all witches and wizards knew what that meant. His trunk had stood open at the foot of his bed for three days now, a pile of neatly folded clothes, books and trinkets at the side. Being a mummy's boy did occasionally have perks. That, and having no mother around anymore to fold your clothes for you meant you learnt to fold nicely one way or another if you even cared a little bit about keeping things tidy.

He picked up today's newspaper, thrown haphazardly into the trunk this morning when it had been meant for his bed. 'Ministry Continues Battle with Elves over Elf Reform' belted the title from the front page. Scorpius was never sure whether to laugh or cry when he read headlines like that. The front page had other articles about a record-sized sheep being born with the aid of magic in hick-town Leicestershire somewhere, an op-ed on Muggle's fascination with the 'television', and the prizes had been given out for The Potion Innovation Awards 2020.

Scorpius paused, tilting his head to examine the article written in a tiny font. He riffled through the pages quickly and skimmed the article. Scorpius gave a little scoff. Of course, Geoffrey Plantastrode had won the grand prize this year. He was always won, every year, for almost a decade now. This year, he'd won with an improved concentration method for love potions; last year with a self-renewing batch of wolfsbane potion. Scorpius was never quite sure if he was insanely jealous of the potion master's abilities or his biggest fan. Scorpius pushed the paper aside, absently folding the paper neatly. He couldn't even count the times he'd daydreamed about working in the Plantastrode laboratories, or perhaps in the Magical Archives when he was in lower years. But now he was entering Year 6, it gave him a headache and a slightly nauseous feeling.

Turning to the neatly assembled piles, Scorpius stacked them one by one into his case, brushing the top for dust, and finally closing and sealing the lid. He looked around the room. Large, with big, slightly grimy windows and a high ceiling. A bed in one corner, and a large Slytherin banner hanging from the door. His wardrobes hid some pictures of a quartet of daring wizard celloists from at least two centuries ago that had been stuck there by a rebellious teenage relative of his. He didn't have much of a taste for fashion so the inside of the musty old wardrobe was mostly empty whenever he was at Hogwarts. One year he'd come home, and a moth had actually flown out. The only other things that sat in his baren room were a desk and all of Theia's things.

No, there wasn't anything else in here to take. That was mostly because there wasn't anything else in the room. He didn't have any siblings to make the weirdest things with; he didn't have so many photos that he couldn't take them all to Hogwarts, and it was hard to find a decent shop selling anything in middle-of-nowhere Wiltshire on the best of days.

Theia gave a mewl and a stretch on the bed, collapsing on her side atop the emerald sheets. Because of course they were emerald. Unusual though he was, he was still a Malfoy through and through.

"Making the most of your freedom before the long train ride tomorrow?" Scorpius murmured to the black cat. She opened her eyes into hateful slits and then tucked her head into her arms.

"Well, someone's moody." He rolled his eyes, returning to his desk chair.

The humanoid mint leaf didn't look any more welcoming than the last time he'd been in this position. It beckoned at him with a hand.

Yes, that was it. He really was going mental. Although considering it rationally, he shouldn't be surprised. It did run in the family, after all.

Knock knock knock.

"Scorpius?" Speak of the devil. Scorpius dropped the pages of his textbook he'd been holding and leant back over his chair to meet his father's almost identical eyes upside down. There was barely anything of his mother in Scorpius' face. Shame, because oh Merlin had people made weird comments about his mum, and Scorpius had often thought that life would've been a hell of a lot easier if he'd been as good-looking as Max and Joshua. His father raised his eyebrows, and Scorpius immediately sat upright, shifting in his chair to face his father. He winced as all the blood rushed from his head way, way too quickly.

"Father?"

His father stepped over the threshold of his room and closed the door behind him, the Slytherin banner clanging against the wood noisily in the awkward silence as he did. "Have you packed yet?"

Scorpius nodded to the closed trunk by the foot of his bed, and his father laughed through his nose softly - the closest he ever really came to laughter, no matter how much Scorpius tried. Draco moved across the room at sit on the bed as Scorpius watched him, curiously. His father never came into his room, and certainly never this far in or for this long. He looked up an around at the walls; two green, two red; an uneasy truce between Albus and James.

"I take it that the Potter boys were left to this room." Scorpius nodded, and his father's mouth twitched in a smile. "I like it." Scorpius' eyebrows raised. "It looks far better than before."

Scorpius snorted. "That's not hard, considering grandpa and grandma Malfoy's tastes. It's nice to not live in greyscale anymore."

His father nodded. "Yes. That is true." His voice was faint.

Their eyes met; one pair of the same grey eyes broken, the other full of promise. It really wasn't hard to feel sorry for his father, not after everything that had happened. The only reason Scorpius never treated his father with pity was that he knew his father hated it; he'd seen the toll all those aching looks of pity had done on his father at his mother's funeral. Scorpius remembered all those patronising pats on the head and high-pitched words of sympathy with a shudder. He'd been thirteen when his mother died, not six.

"So, tomorrow you'll go back for your sixth year."

"Yes, sir." Scorpius nodded sharply. "And I know, 'concentrate on your N.E. and don't lose sight of the end goal'." He mocked the voice of their head of house loftily, rolling his eyes as he did so.

He father scoffed. "Sort of. But I came to say the exact opposite."

Scorpius sucked in the very breath he'd taken to beat down his father's continuation of the age-old advice and spluttered inelegantly. He winced, not out of pain but because it reminded him uncomfortably of the time Scorpius had done the same thing in front of Rose. "I'm… I'm sorry?"

"Don't drive yourself crazy to get the marks, Scorpius. Just focus on staying happy." Scorpius blinked blankly in response. His father sighed. "I… It was in my sixth year that the troubles truly began. It wasn't a pleasant time. I have often pegged it as the beginning of the end." Scorpius couldn't bear to meet his father's gaze, no matter how piercing the grey stare had become. His father stood again, wandering over to the windows adjacent to the desk. Scorpius dared to stare at his father's back. "The day you were born was both the happiest and most painful day of my life. All I've ever wanted was for you to have the happiness that I was never worthy of deserving."

Scorpius nodded once, and then twice, slowly. He and his father had discussed some of the past before, vaguely. But only before Hogwarts, and only the parts Scorpius had sort-of been aware of before. And when his mother was alive, most of the time she spent pouring out her heart for how much she loved his father, and how much he, in turn, loved her - even if he couldn't show it. But that had ended with her, four years ago. Scorpius was convinced that he knew it all, though. All the dark secrets that their name carried with them.

"I…" He stumbled again. Scorpius didn't need to hear it. No, he didn't want to hear it, he thought. He wanted to know what his father was going to say, but he couldn't bear to sit through the agonising process of him actually saying it. The air was stiff with awkwardness and he could barely breathe for fear of reminding his father that he was sitting there.

But the words never came. Scorpius let out the stiffled breath. "It's alright, father." He interrupted, moving to stand next to his father. "I-" he baulked "I think I get it".

He didn't. They both knew that. Another awkward silence hung in the air.

This house really was a weird place.

His father shifted abruptly, smoothing the tie that lay against the impossibly neat white shirt and turned away. Scorpius looked at the place where his father had been standing but a moment ago, suddenly wishing that he was there again. He wrestled with himself.

"Dad?" He called suddenly, and his father stopped before the door, mid-stride. He froze, not turning to face his son. "Let's make shortbread." Scorpius leapt off his chair lithely, slamming the cover of 'Herbology for Advanced Herbologists' shut without a look back.

He and his father were the same height now. His lips quirked at the corner, and he nodded, opening the door as the Slytherin flag clattered against it, the silver glittering golden in the first rays of the evening sunshine, and ushering Scorpius through.

The next morning, Scorpius apparated with his father and almost all his worldly possessions to an alleyway behind King's Cross Station.

Scorpius looked around, breathing in the scent wafting in the air. A twisted grin appeared on his face at the delightful and familiar smell of London smog. The sky was always slightly overcast around the station, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

He hovered in the shadows, scratching his stubbornly silent cat around the cheeks as he waited for his father to bring over a luggage trolley so they could make their way to Platform 9 3/4 together. He could hear the clunking trains and flocks of people hustling and bustling in and around the station. It was ten minutes to eleven. The station always seemed to grow in a crescendo of activity towards lunch time.

"I know, Theia. I know you don't like the train." His black cat, who was so affectionate she purred madly at the very sight of someone she loved, was staring back at Scorpius sullenly. She hated trains. Really, truly and deeply hatred trains. Despite her generally good temperament, she'd growl and hiss and stare evilly at the mere mention of the word. He could never work out if she was scared, or just hated all the people around to poke at her. He tended to think it was the former - something about the rhythmic vibration of the train as it tumbled along, he supposed. Or she might just be a very strange cat, as Lily Potter had insisted a few years ago. Theia had hissed at her on the train and Lily's pride had smarted terribly for the rest of that journey.

It didn't take his father long to return, and soon enough they were walking together in almost complete silence to the platform. He really wondered why the muggles hadn't figured at least something out by now - a bunch of weirdly dressed people with strange clothes disappearing in the station on the same day every year? Then again, he did hear weird things about the Muggles and their hobbies. Joshua had told him once he had an uncle who watched trains.

Scorpius did know that his father didn't enjoy leaving him - he could see it in the slightly downward twitch of his mouth. But it wasn't for the first time he wished that his father would say or do something, anything, to actually prove it.

The platform was already packed by the time the pair had slid nonchalantly through the barrier, and almost immediately Scorpius was bombarded with faces that he knew. But considering their reputation, the father-son pair always made sure to get to the platform as late as they could reasonably manage. Making a beeline for the train, he wandered the tight corridors, looking for his friends.

"Scor!" He heard a voice shout behind him. He grinned to himself; he'd know that voice anywhere.

"Alright, Albus?" He pulled the very Potterish Potter into a hug and clapped him on the back. "How've you been?"

Albus grinned back at him; after six weeks of not seeing each other which felt more like six years to Scorpius. He couldn't be happier to have his best friend back. They'd probably fight within the week.

He shrugged. "You know. Lily's already claimed she doesn't know me once."

Scorpius grinned. "Nice."

"Girls."

"Lily's a special case."

They walked through two carriages together, to where a mass of extended Weasley cousins had gathered. You could tell by the almost blinding quantity of ginger hair.
"Leave your stuff with me, I'll put it in the carriage. Go say bye to your dad." Albus took the trunk and Theia's cage from Scorpius' hands.

"Are you sure?"

Albus shrugged. "Mum's already kissed me several times. I think I'm alright on that front until Christmas."

Scorpius laughed, harder than he usually would've done at Albus' jokes. "Thanks. I'll be back in a moment."

Smoke had already begun to envelop the platform - it wouldn't be long until the train left. Scorpius dashed out of the train, searching for his father. He knew where he'd be - where he always was. Hovering at the back of the platform and trying desperately to be invisible. He also knew his father hated being there at all - and only did it for Scorpius. Scorpius wasn't a fool; he saw the measuring looks, the glares out of the corner of eyes, and the way that parents pulled their children out from their path. It hurt him more profoundly than he would ever admit to his friends, mostly because their parents who did the very same thing. Ron Weasley and Harry Potter always gave his father a measuring glare, but usually not much more; Joshua Abbott's protective Muggle father used to pull Joshua away in their fourth year, when he learnt about the history of the wizarding of world. Alfie Campbell's parents weren't much better, always stepping away when Scorpius came to greet his dorm mate. It hurt that he couldn't have the same life as his friends, all because of a few mistakes in his father's terrorised youth that he had spent an entire lifetime repenting for.

"Goodbye then, Scorpius." His father muttered as they reached a secluded spot on the smog-choked platform. The train began to clatter and clunk noisy as the driver-less engine sprang to life. They didn't have much time left. His heart began to sink slightly, and he just couldn't bring himself to look into his father's eyes. "Please, remember what I mentioned."

Scorpius nodded, and grinned. He knew it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course, daddy-o. I'll spend this year the most enjoyable of all the years so far." He nodded his head sharply like a cadet following an elder's orders.

The train began its loud groans and squeaks, and it was time for Scorpius to go already. He looked from the train and back to his father. He was thin in his muggle suit, his face slightly sunken, with a yellow tinge, and tired. Sometimes he barely looked like the man Scorpius remembered as his father.

"Scorpius, I-"

Scorpius reached out and engulfed his father in a tight hug. He really was thin. "I know, dad, I love you too." His father squeezed back, and then as the whistle sounded, Scorpius had to run off.

"Bye, dad!" He shouted, winding through the crowd to the shining red train. He vaguely heard a request for letters follow behind him as he leapt onboard, just as the doors were magically locking shut. Grinning, he looked out behind him at his waving father for a moment, waving back and ever so slightly out of breath, before his father disapperated. It was never wise for him to linger. Not when all the children had gone and the adults were left on their own.

Scorpius wandered down the impossibly narrow corridor and found the train car populated by Weasleys. He slid silently into the first carriage and saw only the messy haired Albus sitting there.

"Your cat scared them all off." Albus nodded to Theia, sitting hunched over and looking extremely uneasy on one of the luggage racks. Now and then, she let out a faint growl that sounded more comical than menacing.

Scorpius pulled his lips into an uneasy grin. It didn't take Albus more than a moment to see it.

"I know." Albus nodded when he saw Scorpius' considerably less-than-happy face. "He'll be alright, just like he is every other year." Scorpius nodded, and managed an actual smile. He turned to Theia and put his hands up to her, offering to comfort her on the train, but she just looked at him loathingly for a second before she turned her icy eyes away and continued to stare straight ahead.

"I thought it was girls that were supposed to have Daddy-Issues?"

Scorpius chuckled. "Don't be so gender-specific! Anyone who wants to can have Daddy-Issues." Albus rolled his eyes, dragging a hand down his face as he watched the remains of London fade away out the window.

"Mine took me to do this Muggle thing this summer - fishing."

"What in all sweet Merlin is that?!"

Albus shrugged. "No idea, apparently it's to catch fish or something, but we never did. Mum wasn't happy, and I heard Uncle Ron taking the piss out of my dad about it too."

The train started to move at a decent pace below them, concealing Scorpius' snort of laughter.

Scorpius finally finished readjusting all his belongings, reaching up to give Theia a reassuring stroke but only receiving a short groan in response before he sat down across from Albus at the window.

He pulled the shortbread he'd made the night before with his dad out from his trunk.

"Shortbread?" He offered the bag to Albus who took one happily, when the door slid open.

"Ooh! Shortbread! It always pays to know someone who's friends with Scorpius." Lily Potter announced in a sing-songy voice, pulling the compartment door open.

Scorpius deadpanned. "Charming." He offered the bag to her anyway.

"'Fanks." She said around a mouth full of shortbread, plopping down next to Albus. "See?" She swallowed. "Now we're friends!"

Scorpius laughed. He didn't care if she was fickle as a moody horse, as long as she said they were friends, they were friends.

Some of the others filtered in and it became almost exclusively a cousin's affair. Hugo, the Ravenclaw brother of the apple of Scorpius' eye; Lucy, another Ravenclaw Weasley in Scorpius' year who was, by Scorpius' own reckoning, quite far up herself. Fred, the Gryffindor who could make even Professor Vector laugh despite being halfway through his OWL years, and Louis, the seventh year dreamy Hufflepuff so handsome he was the heart-throb of Hogwart's female and male students. Not that he knew it, of course. He passed around his shortbread and listened to stories of their summer together; of the life that filled the Burrow over the various family gatherings, the pranks that they'd pulled - although it was almost singularly Fred and his younger sister, Roxanne who'd orchestrated them. How they'd set off fireworks in the bathroom as Molly Weasley - Lucy's older sister - was in there. How they'd egged Hugo's dad into bewitching the ghoul in his old room to present Harry Potter with a gruesome birthday cake. They'd been scolded by their grandma, who'd presented him an actual cake about twenty minutes later. Apparently, the look on his face had been a mixture between pure horror and forced gratitude. Roxanne and Fred's father, George, had laughed well at that one, too.

The door opened again. "Rose!" Scorpius all but shouted, surprising himself into half-standing up. With his stomach tying itself in knots the momentum seemed to make him fall further down into his seat than before, and he could see Albus cringe out of the corner of his eye and heard Hugo's faint groan from beside him. "Shortbread?" He held up the almost empty bag enthusiastically but she just looked at it with vague contempt and suspicion.

"You bake?" Her red eyebrows pulled into a frown. Even then she still looked beautiful, Scorpius thought. She shook her head, re-arranging her features back into a neutral expression. "Prefect's meeting."

"Huh? Oh." He nodded and picked his way through the carriage to over her, tossing the bag onto Louis' lap. "Here you are." He mumbled quickly before hurrying away and trying not to fall over his own feet. Rose lingered for a moment to talk with her cousins and she distinctly heard laughter. He cringed to himself. He wasn't that much of a screw up any more - why was he still one in front of her? And why did she get more and more beautiful every time he saw her?

He hung behind in the corridor to wait for her, but she barely said a distracted 'thanks' before they seemed to be walking at the speed of light to the front carriage. Scorpius madly wracked his brain for something to say to her. Something funny, or impressive, or at least not stupid. He could always ask her if she'd seen the Potion Innovation Awards, but then he remembered that Ancient Runes was her favourite subject. Then he'd just ask how her summer was, he decided, and rehearsed the words he'd say in his head. He took a breath.

"Hi! How are you? How was your summer?" Rose greeted Lydia Griffiths with a warm smile and a hug. Scorpius let out the breath like a deflating balloon. She was already chatting away with other sixth year prefects; the Hufflepuff Grace Hill, and Ravenclaws Harry Shaw and Lydia Griffiths. Well, a man could try. And when it came to Rose, he usually failed.

They all filed into a carriage where James Potter and Freya Walsh, the obvious choices for head boy and girl sat, with a sheet of notes between them. Scorpius highly doubted the loopy handwriting dominating the sheet was James'.

"Hello, old prefects and welcome new ones." This train carriage was way too small for the fourteen people who were desperately trying to sit somewhat comfortably. They did, eventually, manage to fit everyone in with a lot of squeezing and a few people sitting on the floor. Unfortunately, Scorpius was one of them.

"We've got a list of the first house passwords for each term that we'll hand out to you — where are the Ravenclaws?" Freya looked around the crowded carriage for Ravenclaws, sporting a few, and watching out for the new prefects to timidly raise their hands.

"Gryffindors." James passed them out speedily; being one of the most popular Gryffindors, he knew almost everyone in the house.

"Slytherin?" It was James' turn again to battle to figure out who was in that house. He easily recognised Scorpius and give him the slip of parchment that contained the first password - dracon - and recognised the sixth year's female prefect, Sophia Davis. Scorpius couldn't really see the new prefects from where he was - squished on the floor of the edge of the carriage - which was humiliating when you considered that some of them were about half his height.

"And finally, the Hufflepuffs." Freya easily recognised the members of her own house, and gave out the parchment slips quickly.

"Now, the Forbidden Forest is still obviously off limits, and the Divination Tower is only accessible to the Third Years and above-"

"-not like anyone actually means to end up there." James joked quietly, and a couple of prefects sniggered, but Scorpius spied a couple of students, particularly the younger ones, frowning in his general direction.

"Thank you, James. Care to take over?"

"Sure. The Quidditch season will start in October. We'll allot practice time slots by the end of the first week, and we'll have your prefect's rounds posted in the Prefect's Bathroom by Thursday evening."

"Obviously, this is a non-negotiable arrangement like every year."

"The first swapping date will be mid-November."

James hummed out-loud, tapping his chin in thought. "Got anything else, Freya?"

The brunette shook her head. "Nothing particularly pressing."

"Brilliant. We'll let you know if McGonagall tells us anything else."

"Fourth years are doing the patrols of the carriages, Slytherins you take the first two and a half hours, then Hufflepuff, then Ravenclaw, and then Gryffindors."

"Class dismissed!" James cried pompously, waving them all out the carriage with an air that reminded Scorpius of the wild stories he'd heard about Albus Dumbledore.

Scorpius hurried to stand up before he got trampled by all the pairs of legs desperate to get back to their friends.

He looked around for Rose on his way out, desperate to catch the mane of curly ruby hair. But alas, as soon as he saw her, she just looked at him blankly and walked off in the opposite direction.

"Scorpius?" A soft, very feminine voice called to him; it was Lydia Griffiths. She was a Ravenclaw prefect from his year - pretty, too. Almond shaped eyes that belayed her Chinese heritage, and a permanent expression of smiling slightly apologetically. Something about the way her eyebrows lay flat and her wide eyes and the fact that she always seemed to be smiling. Joshua had nicknamed her Bambi in fourth year, although Scorpius still had no idea what that meant. Albus had the hots for her, and had for three years at this point. To her credit, she's never been outright mean to him, even during all the troubles, and that had seemed to have developed into a massive crush on the middle Potter.

"Oh, Lydia!" Scorpius grinned. "How was your summer?"

"It was nice, thank you. How was yours?" She answered so distractedly that he was certain she didn't really want to chat about summer with him.

"Quiet and peaceful, thanks." Scorpius wondered if anyone was ever actually honest about how their summer had been.

"Umm... I was wondering..."

"Albus?" He thought he'd save her the pain and skip to the heart of the matter.

She smiled shyly, then nodded.

"Yeah, he's in my carriage." He began to walk down the corridor. "Want to say hi?"

She nodded, smiling so brightly her eyes crinkled almost shut at the corners. She wasn't a girl of many words, but was wickedly smart at Herbology. He knew it bothered Rose a lot, but to her credit, Rose only let it show when she got close to being beaten in a test. And when he said 'she got close to being beaten', he meant that the eternally switching ranks of Scorpius and Rose were almost breached. As much as she didn't seem to like him, both of them were equally protective of the buffer between second place and whoever came after them. It was less of a crushing defeat if either of them came second to the other, but to be beaten by an outsider was utterly disastrous.

When he got back to his carriage, Lydia following behind and blushing at the sight of Albus before saying a quick 'hi' and hurrying off; Fred and Louis had gone, replaced by the bouncing ball of energy that was Roxanne, and a few other friends had piled in. Alfie Campbell had joined them, and Scorpius greeted him with a warm hug, before sitting down. Hugo was deep in conversation with a boy he recognised to be Ryan Greene, his dorm mate, and Lily was surrounded by a few Gryffindor girls, all listening with rapt attention to Roxanne. He only recognised one girl, Phoebe Allsop, the buttery blonde dorm mate of Lily from the Quidditch team. She was one of the fastest seekers he'd ever seen.

"Oh, Scorpius," Roxanne called with a wave. "Nice shortbread."

"Thanks." Smiling widely, he settled himself down with Albus and Alfie. Roxanne bounced off not long after that, and Lily went back to chatting with her Gryffindor friends.

They talked for most of the journey, about summer, about things for the next year, about gossip they'd heard and misheard, and anything they could think of to talk about. People came and went; Lily and her group left after finding more friends, Hugo's year mates joined him, and more of Scorpius and Albus' dorm mates joined them after a while. James came to sit with them for a bit, but left - and Poppy Creevey opened their door aggressively a short while after, asking if they'd seen James anywhere.

"Nope, Sorry." Scorpius intoned.

"He left here a while ago."

She sighed - or perhaps it might've been better to describe it as an elongated grunt. "Alright. I'll see you this evening, then."

The boys nodded to the girl, and she left, shutting the door just as aggressively as she opened it.

The night drew closer and they changed into their robes, relaxing as much as they were able until they were streaming past Hogsmeade. All other cousins and friends finally left, and Scorpius' two other dorm mates joined them. The carriage lit up again like it was full of all the Weasley cousins.

"I tell you what boys—" Began Max Flint, the brown-haired, handsome boy who for some reason seemed to get all the girls

"I'm not sure I want to hear."

"Let the man speak, Alfie, he hasn't said anything stupid so far this year!"

"Thank you, Joshua." Max grinned, and Scorpius knew the end of this sentence was going to be ridiculous. "The carnage we're going to witness at the end of this year-"

He laughed malevolently as the other boys - bar Joshua - voiced their very loud objections to him.

"Oh don't be an idiot already!"

"I meant the party we're going to have. You took it there!"

Max pointed at Albus, doubled over with laughter as the Potter blushed.

"Oh look, he's blushing!" Joshua cackled, and Scorpius couldn't help laugh alongside them.

"I'm sorry Al," he said from behind his hand, "but he's right."

Albus rolled his eyes and looked away from them all to Alfie for support. Alfie, the very tall, mousey haired, seventh brother of his wizarding family, was usually the voice of reason amongst them all. "Max is vulgar and we all know what he meant," Alfie's face split into a tremulous grin, "but he's right, you look like a bit of a knob right now."

A knock on their door brought their laughter to an end and Albus heaved a sigh of relief.

"It's midget herding time." James cocked his head over to the car door as the train got slower and slower until it was crawling along. He was about to leave when he spotted Albus. "What in the name of Merlin's bollocks did you do to Al?" He didn't sound angry, not at all - just slightly incredulous that he might've been jinxed so early into the school year.

"Just thinking about girls, James." Joshua winked with a satisfied grin and James snorted. "We've all been there, Al. Just don't make it so painfully obvious, alright?"

Albus rolled his eyes. "Cheers, James."

James nodded with a grin and moved on further down the train. Albus surveyed them all. "Dickheads" he mumbled under his breath.

"Sorry Al, but that one was coming a mile off."

Albus narrowed his eyes at Scorpius. "You let me walk right into that trap, you wa-"

"Yeah, alright. Calm down." Alfie called over the pair. "Al, we were all thinking it - you just said it. Scorpius, bugger off already."

Scorpius pushed himself up and stretched. He nodded at Albus, who rolled his eyes at him, and then he picked his way between the outstretched limbs littering the carriage to the door. They'd all grown a significant amount over the summer; and yet Alfie was still the tallest of them all.

"Alright boys, I've got some first years to shepherd." Scorpius cracked back his knuckles and stretched out his arms. Max snorted at his ridiculousness. "Wish me luck!" He called behind himself.

"We'll wish them luck." He heard Joshua intone. Scorpius stuck two fingers up behind him as he left to gather at one of the train's doors. A couple of fourth and fifth years he didn't really recognise were gathered there already, but frankly, they didn't matter.

"Hi, Rose!" He greeted jovially, taking an awkward sidestep to stand next to her. She eyed him dubiously out of the corner of her beautiful brown eyes.

"Hello, Malfoy." Her tone was full of suspicion. "Good summer?"

"Quiet, but pleasant. Yours?"

"Loud, but pleasant." She was talking so stiffly it almost made Scorpius want to curl up and die somewhere. His intestines certainly felt like they'd done that. "Read all of this year's books yet?"

"Naturally." He declared. "And yourself?"

"I'm offended that you'd insinuate otherwise."

He smiled to himself, and caught himself sounding remarkably like his father as he laughed softly through his nose. She didn't need to know that he'd only almost finished their Herbology book.

The train came to a definite standstill, and the doors opened.

"Make sure you don't direct them the wrong way, this year."

Scorpius spluttered. "Wha-Bu-That was one time!"

He was almost sure he heard Rose laugh as she disappeared into the crisp September evening, and they took their places to get the first years successfully to their boats. Hopefully, none of them fell into the lake this year. By 'them', of course, he meant the prefects.

I hope you enjoyed that! Again, I really welcome feedback/criticism of all kinds (although I'd obviously prefer it if you were nice!). Please review if you've got time and follow for more. Thanks!