"Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him." ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Evil.
Probably the harshest four letter word in the English language; an abused and misused term meaning profoundly immoral and malevolent. A word commonly tied up with the darkest wizard in living memory – Lord Voldemort. A word that also seemed to whisper across hallways in which Scorpius Malfoy walked, bouncing from tapestry to tapestry. He saw it mirrored in the eyes of his classmates, imprinted in the set of their mouths.
"His father was a Death Eater." whispered a Ravenclaw girl to her friends as he passed their table in the Great Hall. The tiny blonde next to her gasped in horror, as if his father's Death Eater status somehow made Scorpius himself the Dark Lord reincarnate. He ignored them, continuing his trek across the enormous hall. As he passed the Hufflepuff table, a small blueberry was flicked at him. He ignored it as it bounced off his very new Hogwarts robes, maintaining a stoic expression amid the snickering now emanating from a group of young Hufflepuff boys near the end of their long table. Finally, he had reached his own table; a place where he truly belonged and was absolutely accepted despite his family name. Dozens of eyes glared at him hatefully as he took his seat amongst his new Hogwarts family – the Gryffindor table. The two Gryffindors that had been sitting in the seats on either side of Scorpius immediately vacated to different parts of the table, and he smiled grimly at his little joke. This had been Scorpius Malfoy's life ever since arriving at Hogwarts. His father had warned him that there would be other students who didn't like him.
"Such is the life of a pureblood in this day and age," His father had proclaimed mournfully, "prejudice at every turn." His mother nodded from behind her book. "But you will make friends in Slytherin – there are still some who respect tradition." Scorpius wanted to ask what would happen if he wasn't in Slytherin, but the question had caught in his throat. The thought had obviously never occurred to his father, and Scorpius wasn't sure he wanted it to.
Scorpius was the first and only descendant of a Death Eater attending Hogwarts since Voldemorts death, seeing as the rest had been either killed or locked up tight in Azkaban – including his grandparents. He was not sure if he was glad or not that he was the only one; on the one hand, it would have been nice to have someone who knew what he was going through, but on the other side of things, he wasn't sure if that was the kind of person he'd want to align himself with anyways. The only people who didn't hate him for being a Malfoy were the Slytherins. They, however, hated him for being a Gryffindor.
"Hey, Malfoy!" crowed a mocking voice. "How goes it, mate?" Scorpius looked up to find a boy who looked a little older than him standing opposite him with both hands resting confidently on the long wooden table. He recognized him easily as one of the Potter boys, as he had heard many other Gryffindors call out to him in the few days Scorpius had been attending Hogwarts. He made no reply, which Potter clearly found annoying because his smirk quickly melted into a scowl. "I'm talking to you, Malfoy. Didn't your Death Eater daddy teach you any manners?" Scorpius glared sharply into Potter's eyes, his fist involuntarily clenching around his fork. Potter didn't miss this small movement, and the amusement returned to his face.
"Ooh, touchy subject…" Scorpius heard Potter's friend mutter from a couple of seats down, and there was a chorus of sniggers amongst the surrounding Gryffindors. Potter glanced up towards the front of the Great Hall, Scorpius following his gaze to find that the professors of Hogwarts were all chatting amicably with each other or looking down at their plates. None of the professors were looking in their direction. Before he even had a chance to register what this meant for him, Scorpius' robes were soaked in pumpkin juice. He stared at the overturned pitcher in front of him in silence while the Gryffindor table broke out into laughter. Scorpius couldn't resist – he looked back up at Potter, who was laughing harder than anyone. His eyes scanned the table, stopping briefly on a prefect girl who was not laughing but refused to look in his direction. He felt his face burning so hot it was painful, and to his utter humiliation, his eyes began to sting.
"Are… are you going to cry?" Potter exclaimed loudly, and some of the laughter died out as the older Gryffindors began to look a little uncomfortable. Scorpius stared down at the table, steeling himself against the watering of his eyes.
"Shove off, James." An angry voice demanded from a few seats to his left. Every head turned to face a small boy in Scorpius' year, curious to see who had intervened in Potter's punishment of the Death Eater spawn. It was the other Potter boy, Albus. The two brothers faced off from a few feet away, similar in appearance but obviously differently humored.
"Mind your own, Albus. He's the son of a Death Eater." James snapped as though this was a crime punishable by death. "You know who his father is – he's the only one who didn't go to Askaban for his crimes. He probably killed tons of good-"
"My father never killed anyone." Scorpius cut him off sharply. James rounded back on him, his face reddening with anger.
"Oh, that's what he told you, is it? Pardon me if I don't take his word for it. Your father is Death Eater scum, and as far as I'm concerned, so are you!" Potter's hazel eyes pierced Scorpius with hatred, pinning him to his seat. Then, an older Gryffindor issued a whispered warning to Potter, who quickly returned to his own seat as the Gryffindor head of house moved over to the table where the students were quickly resuming their breakfast.
"What's going on, why is everyone pretending they can't see me?" Professor Longbottom asked the table good-naturedly, rubbing his round face with a calloused hand. At this some of the Gryffindor's grinned at him, but nobody spoke a word. Scorpius kept his eyes on the table, but could feel Professor Longbottom strolling towards him, probably guessing where the problems had originated. "Malfoy? Why are you soaking wet?" At this, a wave of snickers broke out along the table and Scorpius spied Potter's friend elbowing each other impishly.
"Exaresco." Longbottom muttered with a swiping motion of his wand, effectively drying Scorpius's robes. He looked up at the kind face of his Herbology professor, searching Longbottom's blue eyes for the hatred he found in those of his peers.
"It was an accident." Scorpius lied. Longbottom clearly wasn't buying it.
"You don't have to cover for anyone, you can tell me. Who did this?" The young professor scanned Scorpius's unwavering expression.
"I spilled it, it was a mistake. Truly." He said urgently, forcing himself not to look in Potter's direction. Longbottom sighed and faced the rest of the table looking disappointed.
"This kind of treatment of a classmate is unacceptable, particularly a fellow Gryffindor. Ten points from Gryffindor will be taken. I don't want this to be a reoccurring issue." He promptly left them for the professors table, leaving the sting of disappointment lingering behind him. The surrounding students stayed unusually quiet after Professor Longbottom's reprimand, and Scorpius got the impression that he was very well liked among the Gryffindors. That was good, Scorpius thought to himself, because he wasn't especially frightening.
The rest of breakfast was finished without incident, though Scorpius didn't bank on that lasting throughout the day. He was one of the first students to leave, partly because he wanted to hurry and find his History of Magic classroom and partly because it was unbearably awkward to stay. He arrived at the classroom ten minutes earlier than everyone else and picked a seat in the back corner to wait, pulling out his Charms textbook to pass the time. Slowly the class filled with Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, but Scorpius kept his eyes glued to the book in a stout refusal to acknowledge his peers. He was, however, very aware of the scraping of the neighboring chair as someone pulled it back and took a seat. Though there was a bubbling chatter throughout the room, the silence between him and whoever had taken the seat beside him was making Scorpius feel quite awkward. He glanced to his left, his eyes masked by the platinum hair that he had begun to wear down rather than slicked back as he had back home, to spy on whoever had broken the unspoken 'Avoid Malfoy' rule.
Albus Potter was scribbling on a parchment with his potions book open, obviously getting a head start on the potions essay that they had been assigned yesterday. Scorpius watched him for a couple moments before returning to his book. The awkward feeling lasted for the entirety of Professor Binns class, and Scorpius was grateful when it was time to leave. They packed their bags along with the rest of the students and left the classroom without a word to the other.