It was raining. That was the first thing Scorpius realised when he woke up that morning. He lay silently in bed for a few moments, listening to the soothing, faint drum beat of raindrops falling onto the flat roof above his bedroom, savouring his last morning at Malfoy manor. He didn't like living in the dark, draughty, empty house, but he dreaded going to Hogwarts more than anything. He never seemed to fit in anywhere, and he doubted that his strange and quiet personality would suddenly disappear the moment he got on the Hogwarts express. Eleven years of failed attempts to win his parents' affection had alienated Scorpius from the rest of the world, and therefore he had no idea how to make friends with people his own age. He had realised this on his first (and only) day at Muggle School. His nanny had greeted him at the school gates only to find a rather stern faced reception teacher and a live (and somewhat angry) adder. After learning that Scorpius had been found 'having a tea party' with it in the wendy house and hissing at the other students, she had dragged him home by the wrist and informed his parents, who, unsurprisingly, banned him from ever attending Woodlea Primary again.

Scorpius had reminded Draco and Astoria of this event many times over the past six weeks, hoping they would decide it would be better to not send him to Hogwarts, but they had brushed aside his comments as easily as spilt floo powder, and his feeble protests had been dismissed. However, their attitude towards their son had little negative effect on Scorpius. On the contrary, he relished in the attention they had given him over the holidays. He had no doubt that his parents loved him, although he had no idea that he was deprived of the affection that he deserved. As the owner of an apothecary, his mother was always 'busy' with her potions, and his father was nearly always at St Mungo's. He was a mediwizard there, one of the best in the country, and was often called out to deal with more horrific injuries, such as splinching and attacks by vicious creatures. At first Scorpius had been surprised to hear that hid dad was a doctor, as he didn't seem very nice. But he must be to his patients, or he wouldn't be so successful. His heart must have a soft spot somewhere, but Scorpius had yet to find it.

Returning back to earth, Scorpius glanced at his watch. His heart leapt. It was half past seven. Only three and a half hours to go. Three and a half hours until he boarded the train to Hell. He hated mixing with other children. It wasn't that he wanted to have no friends; it was just that every time he tried to speak to people, his words caught in his throat and he coughed away any chances of friendship. He doubted that it would be any different at Hogwarts. He just wanted to be alone, the way he had been forced to be all his life. There was nothing he liked better than to curl up under between his chest of drawers and the wall with his favourite blanket, a cup of tea and a copy of his favourite book, the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Deciding that there was no point in lying in bed until the last minute, Scorpius climbed out of bed and began to get dressed. Choosing not to put on his school robes until he was on the train, he pulled on his favourite jeans and a comfy emerald green jumper that his last nanny knitted for him. His mother would reprimand him for dressing like a muggle when the whole family were going to be seen in public, but Scorpius preferred to blend into the background, and wizard robes made that impossible. He had discovered that when he got his cape stuck in the doors of a tube train in central London when he was nine, causing him to be dragged halfway down the platform and his nanny to be investigated for child abuse.

Pacing his bedroom, Scorpius listened again to the quiet hammering of raindrops. He found it strangely hypnotic, and gave him the feeling that he wasn't alone. He rarely experienced this emotion, and it was only usually during his rare reading sessions that he really felt it.

Scorpius decided to check his trunk to see if he had packed everything, as it was now eight o'clock. Merlin, he thought. Three hours to go. Rummaging through layer after layer of books and quills, parchment and robes, he found what he was looking for. He moved his copy of 'Voyage of the Dawn Treader' to the top, as he needed something to do on the train. As he had established whilst lying in bed, he was unlikely to make any friends.

Suddenly, there was a sharp rap on the door.

'Scorpius!' called a stern, clear voice. 'It's time to go! Get your trunk!'

'Coming, mother'

Scorpius breathed deeply, and not for the first time that day, he felt the familiar sensation in his stomach of a million tiny butterflies fluttering around inside it.

With a shaky breath, he opened the door, grabbed his trunk, and followed his mother down the hallway and into the cavernous drawing room.

To his surprise, Scorpius saw his father standing by the front door, dressed in his expensive black travelling cloak, his white blonde hair brushed back and slicked down flat to his head.

'Ready, son?' Draco asked, trying his best to sound comforting. He pressed his lips together, a strained expression on his pale face, as if talking to his child this way was a new feeling. Scorpius nodded, and the family stepped, blinking, into the morning September sunshine.

The journey to King's cross was painfully quiet, the silence broken only by a few awkward comments and several uncomfortable clearings of throats.

'So, um, does it matter what house I'm in? Asked Scorpius tentatively, wincing as his father opened his mouth.

'Well, Slytherin would be ideal.' said Draco, pursing his lips again. But Ravenclaw would be acceptable, considering you seem to be quite intelligent…'

'Oh'

So Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were out of the question, then, thought Scorpius. He was about to ask his father why, but decided not to. He closed his mouth hastily. When they eventually pulled up outside the station, Astoria levitated Scorpius's trunk and carried it onto the platform for him.

'Come on then' said Draco, grabbing the trolley and turning to face the wall between platforms nine and ten. With a surprisingly kind look at his son, they ran, Scorpius closing his eyes and wincing. He didn't open them for several seconds after he stopped running. He just stood there, breathing in the soothing scent of the smoke billowing from the train, and listening to the sounds of owls hooting, cats meowing, children shouting and parents sighing. When he finally opened his eyes, he gasped.

As much as he despised the fact that he was going to Hogwarts, nothing could have stopped him from gazing in wonder at the scarlet steam engine in front of him. The massive machine glimmered in the lights of the station, and, wondering how it worked, Scorpius almost forgot his nervousness about what lay ahead.

"Come, Scorpius," said Astoria hurriedly, giving her husband a worried look. 'You're going to be late'.

But before Scorpius could board the train, however, he caught a glimpse of a large group of people through the smoke. He recognised two of them as aurors, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Harry Potter!

He noticed with surprise that Harry Potter was looking at him, his gaze then moving on to Draco and Astoria, and then quickly back to his family. Scorpius tried to appear more interested in a large tawny owl that was sitting in a cage on the bench next to him, but found it harder than he thought, especially when a smaller version of Harry Potter stared in his direction with unconcealed curiosity. Looking around at the rest of the families on the platform, he noticed that most of the first years just as nervous as he did. Calming down slightly, Scorpius climbed onto the train. With a last, fleeting glance at his parents, he closed the door behind him and smiled for the first time in weeks.

As the train chugged around the corner, picking up speed, Scorpius Malfoy slid open the door of the first glass- doored compartment he came to. This was an extremely bad and unwise decision. He was chased out by a hoard of angry - looking seventh years who had been practicing advanced spell casting and, quite clearly, did not require the presence of a silly little first year. The next time, he was more fortunate about the door he chose to open. As he entered the second compartment, he caught sight of a girl, seemingly quite tall for her age, with long, auburn hair in two pigtails that hung over her shoulders. She looked up from her book as Scorpius took a hesitant step inside, her eyes wide. Scorpius couldn't tell if she was surprised, shocked or just plain scared; eleven years of isolation from other children had made him extremely poor at interpreting facial expressions. He was just about to say hello to the girl, but was beaten to it.

'Hello' she said brightly, all traces of her former suspicion gone. 'My name's Hazel Finnegan. And you're Scorpius Malfoy.'

Scorpius didn't quite know how she knew, and was about to ask, but again, 'Hazel' spoke first.

'My parents pointed you out to me on the platform. My dad knew your father when they were at school.' Hazel explained, closing her book and gesturing to the empty seat opposite her. Scorpius did as she suggested, but remained wary of the girl. If he'd learned anything from his brief encounters with others, it's that you shouldn't trust someone until they earn your trust. So for now, Hazel was simply an acquaintance.

Suddenly, Scorpius realised that he'd heard her surname before. He was sure he'd heard his father talking about a Mr Finnegan once. Then he remembered. 'Your dad's Seamus Finnegan, isn't he? The Auror?'

'That's right!' she replied, smiling at Scorpius. 'How'd you know that?'

Scorpius hesitated; he wasn't too keen on engaging in a long conversation with anyone, let alone someone he'd just met. He was bound to say something stupid or socially incorrect at some point during the journey, but he tried his voice anyway.

'My father's a healer at St. Mungo's, he had to fix your dad's collarbone once, I think. Did he get injured in a fight?'

'No, no, he hurt himself giving me a piggy back around the garden!' Hazel laughs, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling. 'He's a bit silly, my dad.'

Scorpius forced himself to smile. It upset him slightly, hearing other kids talk about their parents with such enthusiasm. He wished he could do the same, but of course he couldn't. He decided to change the subject.

'So, what house do you think you'll be sorted into, then?' inquired Scorpius, wanting to move the conversation away from family, and to centre it on something else.

'I don't know' replied Hazel, thoughtfully examining the soles of her shoes. 'I think maybe Hufflepuff. All my family have been there, and my Mum and Dad were Hufflepuff prefects' But Gryffindor or Ravenclaw will do just fine'

Scorpius knew exactly what his new friend was thinking. "Not Slytherin. Anything but Slytherin" He felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach. He could imagine the reaction on the face of his new 'friend' if he was put in Slytherin.

'I hope I won't be put in Slytherin though' Continued Hazel, voicing Scorpius's Thoughts with a new look of slight fear on her freckled face. 'I couldn't stand it to have my whole family think of me an outcast. My great aunt Lucy says that when she dies, I'll inherit her locket, which has the symbol of Hufflepuff on it. But I'm afraid my brother Devon will get it I'm a Slytherin. But it's not as If I have anything against the house...'

Scorpius was sure that Hazel had only added that last bit on because she remembered about Scorpius' family heritage. But he decided not to dwell on it.

'Do you have any other brothers or sisters?' Inquired Scorpius, Settling himself into a better seating position and depositing his black cat, Dax onto his trunk so that he could lean back into the chair, so that his chin was resting on his knees like he did back at home in his reading alcove.

'Brothers or sisters?' replied Hazel. Yeah, Devon's is in fifth year and my little brother is only nine. His name's Eddie and he's a metamorphmagus same as me, but he really can't control his powers yet. Devon hates that! He's the only one in the family who isn't one apart from Sasha here.'

'You're a metamorphmagus?' Replied Scorpius Incredulously. 'Aren't they really rare?'

'Yes, but it's more common amongst Irish families for some reason. Dad say's it's got something to do with being distantly related to leprechauns.'

Scorpius laughed. 'But if you're Irish, why don't you have an accent?'

'I was born in Dublin, and then the family moved to England when I was two and Devon was six'

'Can you show me some of your funny powers?' Asked Scorpius excitedly. 'Make your hair blonde, like mine!'

Hazel screwed up her face in concentration, and with a small popping sound, her hair turned a violent shade of flaming red.

'That wasn't supposed to happen.' She says, slightly embarrassed. 'I'll try again'

But before she could attempt to re-colour it, the compartment door slid open, making Scorpius jump.

'Whoa! Do we have another cousin we don't know about? A girl exclaimed, sitting down next to Scorpius and motioning for her companion, a small, black-haired boy, to do the same. The girl did in fact have hair almost exactly the same shade as Hazel's. That must mean...

'I'm Rose Weasley, by the way.' She said, turning to her friend. 'And this is Albus Potter'

Scorpius knew it. There was no other wizarding family in the country with such a distinctive hair colour.

'I'm Scorpius Malfoy' he said quietly, half expecting for Albus and Rose to leap away from him in disgust or fire hexes at him. But they simply smiled at and turned to Hazel. 'What's your name? Albus asked, his large green eyes twinkling.

'I'm Hazel Finnegan' she replied, grinning back. 'My dad was friends with your parents, and yours, Rose!'

Suddenly, the conversation was interrupted when the compartment door slid open yet again. It was the lady with the trolley, and Scorpius's mouth watered just looking at it all. He was used to Wizard sweets, of course, it was Muggle ones that he'd never had, but he was never allowed to buy as many as he liked. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching into his pocket, pulling out several silver and gold coins and saying 'How much can we get for this?'

It turned out to be quite a lot. Five minutes later, the empty seats were covered in piles of treats. Six pumpkin pasties, eight boxes of every flavour beans, a dozen chocolate frogs, several packets of best blowing gum and even some muggle sweets, which turned out to be sherbet lemons.

'Whoa, Scorpius, this'll last us for ages!' exclaimed Albus blissfully, engaged in what seemed to be a rather intimate moment with a pumpkin pasty.

'No it won't, Al, the way you're going, it'll last half an hour at most!' replied Rose. 'You've eaten three of those things already! That's half of them!'

'Well, there's one left for each of you then. Sounds fair!'

Rose slapped him playfully on the back of the head, sending the four friends into a fit of giggles. They almost didn't hear the announcement telling them to get changed into their robes. The girls went into the next compartment, leaving Scorpius and Albus alone to get dressed. Twice, Albus had to disentangle Scorpius's cat Dax from his trousers, much to his amusement.

When the four children had got changed, they resumed their feasting on the many sweets that still remained. Two of the remaining pumpkin pasties had mysteriously vanished.

With five minutes to go, the conversation had gone back onto the topic of houses, much to Scorpius's dismay. It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy talking to his new friends, but he was probably the only potential slytherin in the compartment.

He soon learned that Albus and Rose were both keen to be sorted into Gryffindor, and Hazel into Hufflepuff. Albus, like Hazel, was deeply worried about being put into slytherin. Scorpius wondered why. After the war, all the death eaters had either gone to Azkaban, fled the country or disappeared completely, leaving no children. The house had been clean of evil for a while now, but it's reputation seemed to linger.

In the process of sorting out her belongings, Hazel picked up her tiny ginger cat and handed her to Scorpius. She mewed plaintively, arching her back and baring her teeth at him in a disgruntled manner. She eyed him distastefully, digging her claws into his arm. With one rapid movement, she sprung at him, landing heavily and painfully on his head and unsheathing her claws to their maximum length.

'Aaagghh!' yelled Scorpius, grabbing the hissing kitten from off his head and letting it leap down onto the floor below them.

'Stupid cat! Shouted Hazel despairingly, checking to see if Scorpius was bleeding. 'Are you OK? she asked, extracting a tissue from her pocket and handing it to Scorpius. Scorpius gingerly dabbed his head, watching as deep crimson rosettes of blood seeped through the paper and wincing as the tissue pressed against his skin. He didn't know how one tiny kitten could do so much damage.