Chapter 1 The Potter Boy

And so, out of the blue, the name of the second oldest child of the Potters was uttered and caught by the young 11-year-old Scorpius Malfoy, who was beginning to feel a bit sleepy by the lit fireplace, with his gossiping relatives all around him.

A family dinner was always boring, especially if it was a formal one: The Greengrass and the Malfoy families had managed to gather all members except Daphne Greengrass (who had gone on a trip with her best friend), to join a formal family feast in the Malfoy Manor. Scorpius had sighed when seeing all those people—at least, if aunt Daphne was present, there could perhaps have been a bit more laughter in the house. Now he had to sit with his stiff bow tie and straightened body throughout the feast, laughing if he had to, and using polite words and knowing that his grandpa was secretly watching him for the whole time. This gave him an ill feeling in the stomach.

The feast lasted for about two hours but he had wasted three hours in front of the mirror, slicking and polishing his hair, matching clothes and adjusting shirt sleeves, trying to make himself look perfect. As a result, he was so tired that he sat down on one of those heavy silk chairs beside the fire as soon as the feast was over and rested.

The room was warm and cosy, the soft silky texture of the chair beneath him eased the soreness of his waist and legs. The light buzz of people talking, the jingling of crystal wine glasses and the cracking of firewood fused to make perfect background…

He was almost enjoying the atmosphere, when he was woken up with a start by 'Albus Severus Potter' that seemed to come from far away, like a drip leaking out of the flow of conversations into his ears.

The name itself seemed to be incompatible with the surroundings, for it had sent the whole room into a brief moment of silence.

It's not that the mentioning of names of the Potters were sins in the Manor. It's just the Malfoys have been, without themselves realizing, avoiding to talk about them for ages, and it caused a slight feeling of uneasiness for everyone when the names were suddenly brought up.

The person who said it was a photographer, who was invited to take a family photo: He was talking loudly about the news featuring the Potter's second oldest son going to Hogwarts in the following month to several servants. He glanced around in slight confusion when the room went silent and began sipping the brandy in his cup, pretending to be concentrating on the action.

The conversations and chats resumed, but Scorpius's feeling of uneasiness was still there.

He had again the feeling that he was being watched, and turned, just in time to meet Lucius Malfoy's grey thoughtful eyes, this time staring directly at him. From the look he knew that he was summoned.

He walked up to where Lucius was sitting. Lucius was already in his mid-60s, his original pale blonde hair had gone half-white, tied to his back with a loose string, giving him a look of idle grace. He rarely showed much expression these days: ageing had made him a man more prone to concealing his emotions. Yet Scorpius could tell that the eyes looking towards him contained a trace of affection, which relieved him: at least it was not bad news.

'Scorpius' Lucius spoke slowly and softly, again with idleness but authority.

Scorpius answered cautiously in a low voice.

'Your father told me about the admission letter—surely you received it?'

'Yes, I did, grandpa.'

Scorpius received his admission letter on his birthday—had it been a coincidence he could not tell. He had known sooner or later it would arrive but he was still happy about it when the striped own swooped past his bedroom window, dropping the letter onto his hand while he was getting dressed.

Lucius gave a little laugh. (He laughed! That's even rarer. Thought Scorpius) 'Good. You would be a great Slytherin, that is without the doubt. But there's one thing that I need to remind you.'

'My boy.' He added.

Scorpius felt an uncomfortable lurch in the stomach.

'So I've heard, the Potter boy and you are in the same age.'

So it's about the Potters, then. Scorpius felt somehow amused. Besides from having a heroic father, that Potter does not interest him at all. Why does everyone love to talk about him?

His memory drifted back to last month when he was buying caldrons for use in first-year potions class in the Diagon Alley. His parents went to pick up his owl in the owl shop, so he was left alone. The young assistant in the shop had screamed with excitement and run out of the door when rumours had that the Potters were walking past. Scorpius glanced up but saw nothing other than a huge crowd surrounding a few moving heads, all with curled and messy black hairs—the renowned 'symbol' of the Potter family. He remembered hearing the assistant's high voice later when she was introducing him the different types of cauldrons 'so here are the brass ones I guess you won't need them for first years…oh good lord, sorry for saying that again, but really, did you see him, Albus Severus Potter? He just looked so much like his father!'…

'I don't mean you are forbidden to talk to him,' Lucius was talking, 'but do not stay too close to him. His father and your father did not have a good relationship at school, as far as I know.'

He gave Draco Malfoy a side glance, who was standing beside him and listening. Upon hearing this Draco turned slightly away. With astonishment Scorpius found his father blushing a little.

Awkward relationship indeed. He thought.

'That's about everything I have for you, Scorpius. Good luck in Hogwarts.'

'And of course, if you have anything in need, tell me about it.' Lucius added as if trying to be more sincere. He handed him a small velvet silk pocket. It was heavy with gallons. Scorpius tried hard not to laugh.

Ah. At last. Something practical.

Who mind the Potters anyway?

When it's time to leave, with the merry thought in mind, he waved his grandpa goodbye and stepped into the fireplace after his parents.


the chapter's been edited to remove stupid grammar mistakes lol