A/N: I want to give a huge thank you to TheMortalMan and Pendragon2601 for beta reading.
I have two important things I want to say before this fic: The first is that it isn't going to follow Cursed Child canon. I have very mixed feelings about Cursed Child, loving certain aspects of it and hating others. I've taken some parts of it and not others, so what happens in this story won't necessarily line up. That being said, this story will only take place during their first year, so you won't see the discrepancies all that much yet. They'll come later.
The last thing I want to say is that I'm writing Scorpius as having Asperger's in this story. If you notice anything wrong with my portrayal (and I'm very nervous that there's something wrong), people let me know so that I can work on trying to fix it.
"Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends"
– J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
The train's whistle sounded, sending a wave of shock through Scorpius' system.
Why was it so loud? Did they think anyone was going to forget that it was there?
He didn't want to be on Platform 9 and 3/4. There were more people mulling about than he had ever seen in one place, and it felt like they were pushing in on him even as they gave the Malfoy family wide berth. Even his owl kept flapping her wings in her cage, unused to the commotion. Scorpius kept his facial features carefully controlled, hoping to appear as confident as his father did, though he knew he was failing.
For years, Scorpius had dreamed about the day he'd get to go to Hogwarts. Each dream had a common theme: Scorpius would come into his own at Hogwarts. For once, he'd be confident, and with that confidence, he would be able to attract friends to himself. He'd no longer feel alone or isolated. He'd have somewhere to belong. It had happened for others.
Now that the day had arrived, Scorpius felt scared. There was no way the real Hogwarts was going to live up to his dream Hogwarts. He'd heard amazing thing after amazing thing from some, but Scorpius wasn't naive enough to believe that would be his experience. The Malfoys didn't have the same past of perfect, lifelong friendships being formed at the school. His father hadn't spoken to Gregory Goyle since the Battle of Hogwarts.
It was hard to stay someone's friend—if Draco could have stayed anything with Goyle—when you testified against them in front of the Wizengamot. Goyle had been out of Azkaban for several years, and the one time Scorpius has seen him in person had been during a trip to Diagon Alley, where his father had steered him away as Goyle glared as if he'd happily have murdered them on the spot.
That had been his father's Hogwarts experience in a nutshell. It was the legacy Scorpius had to deal with. He wasn't confident enough to get minions like this father, let alone real friends.
His parents knew it too. Scorpius could see it on their faces as they went through the motions of a happy send off to Hogwarts.
"Try to talk to someone on the train," Draco urged his son, his brow furrowing in worry.
Even though he knew his father said such things out of love—he, too, wanted Scorpius to make friends and be happy—the words still sent a shiver of fear down Scorpius' spine. As if his own disappointment at being unable to make friends wasn't enough, he'd have to face his father's disappointment as well when he came home for Christmas holidays without a friend to speak of.
"I've given you plenty of treats," Astoria said, drawing Scorpius' attention away from his father.
The large smile on her face made her better at hiding her fears than Draco was, but Scorpius could still see the worry in her eyes. She continued to stuff more snacks into Scorpius' robes than ever should have fit. Scorpius thought she might have put enlarging charms on the pockets the last time they'd been washed.
"Mum, I can't eat all of this," Scorpius protested. "There's enough here for the entire train."
Astoria froze for a millisecond, and Scorpius got it, despite the way she continued filling his pockets without commenting or looking at him.
"I thought that maybe you'd like to share," she admitted, though she kept her tone light. "Not with the whole train, but maybe with the rest of your compartment."
"Just with myself then," Scorpius muttered under his breath. It was low enough that his father didn't hear the comment, but his mother did. She shot him a reproachful look.
"I'll share them with my compartment," Scorpius promised, trying to smile for her. "I'm sure homemade pumpkin pasties will be a great conversation starter."
Astoria rolled her eyes, but this time there was amusement in her features.
"Food can often bring people together," Astoria said, "and I take great pride in that pumpkin pasty recipe."
With good reason, his mother's pumpkin pasties were the best Scorpius had ever had.
"The Trolley Witch will sue if anyone else gets ahold of yours, Mum. She may even go out of business."
Astoria preened, previous fears momentarily forgotten.
"I'm not sure about that," she replied modestly. "I'll never make chocolate frogs quite as great as the original."
She'd tried though. It had been quite a shock when for the first time, at three years old, Scorpius had entered the kitchen to find chocolate frogs jumping everywhere, his mother unable to control them.
The train whistled again, causing Astoria and Draco to glance at the clock that towered over the station. 10:59.
The look of anxiety on Astoria's face had returned. Draco's had never left.
His mother leaned in to drop a kiss to the top of his head, a feat that had become difficult over the previous months. Scorpius realized with a jolt that he might be too tall for such a gesture once he saw her again, and his stomach twisted into more knots.
He thought he might cry, and he took a deep, shaky breath to will the tears away. His parents had been the closest thing he'd had to friends for his entire life. He hadn't realized how true that was until he wasn't going to see them again for months.
"Off you go then," Astoria urged.
Scorpius knew her well enough to detect the tears that were pricking at her eyes, but she hid it well, making sure her posture didn't falter.
Scorpius kissed his mother and hugged his father goodbye before boarding the train and finding an empty compartment for himself.
He'd been alone for several minutes when there was commotion in the corridor, and Scorpius' head shot up to watch a boy and a girl arguing outside his compartment door. Their eyes kept flickering into the compartment and towards Scorpius for split seconds at a time as if Scorpius wouldn't notice the looks. He glanced away, able to imagine what sorts of things the girl was saying about him. Her look said it all.
For a few moments, the conflict continued, and Scorpius stared at the empty seat across from him. He could feel heat in his cheeks, but he refused to glance back at the pair.
He froze when he heard the door slide open, finally glancing over and into the eyes of Albus Severus Potter.
Scorpius struggled to remain calm as Albus smiled at him. His mind was working on overdrive as he tried to figure out what Albus' seemingly kind expression meant.
Potters and Malfoys weren't friends. If they ever had been, it had been centuries ago. Scorpius knew they were related somehow, but they were as distant as two pureblooded families could be, evidenced by the fact that the Potters were no longer a pureblood family.
Scorpius had wanted a friend, any friend, but a Potter was the last sort of person he'd expected to willingly enter his presence. Followed closely by a Weasley at that. Rose's glare had Scorpius cowering in his seat despite having claimed this particular compartment first.
He would have given the compartment to her and left if it meant she wouldn't look at him with such anger.
"Hi," Albus said, ignoring his cousin's anger and smiling at Scorpius as if were anyone but a Malfoy. "I'm Albus Potter."
"I know," Scorpius responded, cringing a moment later when he realized how strange that sounded. He didn't like when people had preconceived notions of him, and sure enough, Albus frowned at the words, looking displeased.
"Scorpius Malfoy," Scorpius continued, trying to remember the etiquette he'd been taught. Despite his extensive schooling on the topic, he'd always been terrible at implementing it.
Albus smiled again once Scorpius had announced his name, which squashed Scorpius' prediction that Albus hadn't known who he was. Somehow, he still looked friendly, and there was no way a Potter had grown up with no idea of who the Malfoys were or what they had done.
"This is my cousin Rose," Albus said when it became clear that Rose, who was standing behind Albus with crossed arms and a scowl, wasn't going to speak for herself. "Rose Granger-Weasley."
"If I wanted to be introduced, I'd do it myself," Rose snapped.
The smile fell from Albus' face for a moment before he was able to rearrange his features into something neutral. This expression was more reserved than the one before. Scorpius had been waiting for this.
"Rose," Albus muttered in a pleading voice. No doubt Rose typically wasn't this impolite. It was a hatred she reserved for Malfoys and other Old Families who had once pledged their allegiance to Voldemort.
"It's okay," Scorpius said. "I don't expect either of you to like me. I get it. Really, I do. I'm a Malfoy; my family were Death Eaters. Your family were heroes. You two really shouldn't talk to me."
Something about Scorpius' words had affected Albus. He watched the other boy with a look of sympathy, one that Scorpius wasn't sure whether he was thankful for or not.
"Who said I didn't want to be friends?" Albus said, a new resolve in his voice. He plopped himself down on the seat across from Scorpius, his smile brighter than it had been before, and somehow, Scorpius couldn't detect a lie.
Rose scoffed at her cousin, still disgusted to be in Scorpius' presence, but Scorpius had been presented with an opportunity that he had never expected to have. He wasn't going to waste it.
"I have snacks," Scorpius announced out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the sheer amount of food that had been stuffed into his robes. He'd needed something to break the silence, even if it wasn't what he would have said had he had more time to prepare for this moment. "Do you want a pumpkin pasty? My mum made them. They're better than the pre-packaged ones."
Albus was still smiling at him, and he wasn't laughing at Scorpius, who in his nervousness struggled to get his hand in his pocket to grab some pumpkin pasties.
"I'd love one," Albus said, reaching out to take one of the pastries from Scorpius' shaking hand.
He bit into it with a fervor that suggested that he had been hungry. Scorpius watched him eagerly. For some reason, a rejection of his mum's baking would feel almost as bad as a rejection of himself.
"This is so good," Albus assured Scorpius. "You were right about it being better than the packaged ones. Thanks."
"No problem," Scorpius said, straightening his posture without realizing it. He felt as proud as if he'd done the baking himself.
Then he remembered Rose and glanced over in her direction. The amount of approval he'd gotten from Albus was enough that Scorpius no longer cowered under her gaze.
"Would you like one?" he offered, knowing full well that his mum's baking was his best chance at winning her over.
Rose watched Albus eating his, and Scorpius could see the conflict in her eyes. It was the first time she hadn't seemed hostile since entering the compartment, and that filled Scorpius with hope. She looked back at him, and Scorpius could detect her gathering her resolve to turn him down.
"You really should eat one, Rose," Albus said. He was watching her as closely as Scorpius was, waiting to see what action she would take. "Pumpkin pasties are your favourite, and these are the best."
Were they really Rose's favorite? Had Scorpius had that much luck?
Scorpius watched as her resolve melted away and she took a step forward to take a pasty, never quite looking Scorpius in the eyes. She sat down, something Scorpius had been sure wouldn't happen, though she chose to take a seat on the same side as Albus and as close to the door as she could manage. She couldn't have been farther away from Scorpius without leaving the compartment, but he would take it.
He watched her as she ate it, noticing the telltale hints that she was enjoying it but wouldn't admit so aloud. Scorpius was going to have to thank his mother. If this turned out well, she'd send him a hundred more pasties in the post.
A silence fell amongst them, and Scorpius wasn't sure how to break it. Silences were common in his family, and they often let them be. Based on everything he knew about the Potter and Weasley families, however, Scorpius was willing to bet that wasn't the case for Albus and Rose. One of the few things Scorpius' father had ever told Scorpius about the Weasleys was that they were a "boisterous group". Albus and Rose had to be used to a steady stream of conversation, and Scorpius wasn't used to such things.
He looked between Albus and Rose, waiting for either of them to say something, but neither did. Rose looked obstinate in her silence, whereas Albus didn't seem to know what to say. The latter gave Scorpius enough confidence to ask the one question he could think of.
"What do you like to do for fun?"
He was sure that was something one of his parents had told him to ask at some point in the informal 'how to make friends' lessons they often gave him despite having so few friends of their own. It seemed cliche to ask, but it was all Scorpius could come up with. Unless he wanted to ask why Albus was bothering to give him a chance.
Albus shrugged in that way people often did when they realized that they didn't know how to answer that kind of question. Albus had to do something with his time, but when put on the spot, he couldn't think of what that was.
"I like to play wizard's chess. Sometimes I read." Albus sounded unsure of himself even though Scorpius was smiling widely as he answered. "What about you?"
"I like to read too," Scorpius said, sounding more confident in that admittance than he often did after hearing Albus choose it too. "And I quite like animals. I brought my owl with me," he pointed at the cage on the rack above them where she'd fallen asleep with her head tucked under her wing, "but I had to leave my horse behind at Malfoy Manor. I'll miss her."
Belatedly, Scorpius realized that mentioning his family's home by name wasn't the best idea. It was perhaps better to not mention his family's name at all.
Rose had finally turned to look at him again at the mention of the house, and her gaze was judgmental. Scorpius didn't really understand. It wasn't like he'd had a say in where he lived or what family he'd been born into.
"You own a horse?" Rose asked in something like disgust.
Scorpius felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, feeling how close Rose was to insulting a creature he loved. Horses were far more intelligent than many were willing to give them credit for.
Not one to argue, he didn't say any of that to Rose. He watched her carefully, waiting for her to insult him or his horse once again.
She didn't, whether it was because no insults came to mind or because she had decided it wasn't worth her time.
In an unusual burst of confidence, Scorpius asked, "What about you Rose? What do you like to do?"
The question was worth a shot, since Scorpius couldn't make her hate him more than she already did unless he began to live up to her worst expectations of Malfoys. She cringed when he said her name, which felt insulting in a way that little else she had done had, yet Scorpius ignored it, looking at her expectantly as if it were a given she'd answer.
Rose didn't look like she was going to answer at first, but Albus nudged her in the side, causing her to give in.
"I like Quidditch," she said, closing her mouth to signal that that was the extent of her input.
Scorpius ran with it. "Unsurprising what with your family. Your aunt was one of the best Quidditch players of her generation, if not further back than that. She's the reason the Holyhead Harpies have been my favourite team since I was three. She's brilliant."
Albus and Rose both looked shocked at Scorpius' praise of Ginny Potter. Scorpius felt his face heat up once again as he realized how strange it would feel to hear someone go on like that, especially when Albus was hearing it about his own mother.
"Not that I keep up with Quidditch that much, mind," Scorpius continued, feeling the need to attempt to make it better. "I've just been to a few matches here or there, and I check the Prophet's Quidditch pages every so often. That's it really."
Albus' look of shock turned into a grin. "You brought up my mum before you did my dad," he said in amusement. "Most people don't do that."
"Really?" Scorpius asked even though he wasn't surprised. "It seems like plenty of people would talk about your mum."
Albus shrugged. "Well, yeah, they do, but it typically comes after they go on and on about the great Harry Potter." His eyes narrowed as he spoke, and he averted his gaze to the floor.
Scorpius offered what he hoped was a sympathetic smile once Albus glanced at him again. He did, after all, know what it was like to be reminded of a legacy, even if their legacies were as different as any two legacies could be. Truthfully, Scorpius would give anything to have the legacy to live up to that Albus had, but he could sense that it wouldn't be wise to say such things.
"Shame," he said instead, "when your mum's such an ace Quidditch player."
Albus smiled at him again. By now, Albus had smiled at him more than anyone other than his mum ever had. Scorpius wasn't quite sure what that meant. He'd never had adequate experience figuring out where politeness ended and friendship began.
Scorpius hoped that what they had was the beginnings of a friendship though, and he became more and more certain that it was as the train ride went on. He even managed to make Albus laugh, a feat he'd never managed with anyone other than his mum before.
Rose watched them talk and laugh with curiosity and increasing incredulity, never saying a word herself. At times, Scorpius almost forgot that she was there, too focused on whatever it was that Albus was telling him at the time.
Then, Rose finally spoke.
"You're strange for a Malfoy," she stated bluntly.
The smile fell from Scorpius' face.
"I am," he agreed. "Dad says I take after the Greengrasses more than the Malfoys. Told me that was probably a good thing before Mum shushed him and wouldn't let him say anything else."
Rose snorted. "Your dad might have been right about one thing at least."
Scorpius watched her, trying to decide if this observation of hers meant that she was warming up to him. She was certainly watching him with a different sort of look in the eye, but Scorpius should have already known that Rose Granger-Weasley wasn't an easy shell to crack.
The train began to noticeably slow down, and for the first time, Rose neared Scorpius as she moved to look out the window. It was dark, with little to be seen, yet Rose seemed to have seen something.
"We're almost there," she said. "We should change into our Hogwarts robes if we don't want to be late."
She reached for her trunk, which she'd never stored up on the shelf, and began pulling what she needed from its contents. Scorpius and Albus both mimicked her, but by the time Scorpius had carefully lowered his trunk and gotten out his robes, Rose had disappeared down the corridor to change, leaving Scorpius and Albus alone for the first time.
He glanced over at Albus, seeing him tugging his shirt over his head. Scorpius turned around and began doing the same, though he was unable to suppress his nervousness at having to undress in front of someone.
"Please don't be too bothered by Rose."
Scorpius twirled around, Hogwarts robes askew, so that he could look at the other boy. Albus was already dressed, possibly because he hadn't had nerves that were causing him to fumble.
He looked at Scorpius as if pleading with him to listen and believe him, which was something new.
"She's not that bad," Albus said. "She's just–Well, Uncle Ron has always had a particularly strong dislike for your dad, and he's told Rose all of these things that your dad did." Scorpius bowed his head to stare at the floor, more than aware of which of Draco's actions Rose had been informed of. "And I think she's having a hard time separating you from your dad's past."
Scorpius nodded. "I understand," he said. "Plenty of people have a hard time with that." He just wished they didn't.
Albus's face looked sympathetic once again.
"It's pretty terrible of her, to be honest," Albus said. "She did grow up with me, and she's seen how people treat me because I'm Harry Potter's son. Even Rose gets reminded about her parents by strangers all the time. She should know not to judge someone because of their parents."
Scorpius thought she should too, but instead of saying so, he said, "It's different when you're a Malfoy. People want the two of you to be as great as your parents. I'm from a family with a long history of the Dark Arts and Muggle-hating."
Albus hesitated before he spoke. "My dad was talking to my mum the other day during dinner, and he said that he was impressed with your father. He said that, of all the former Death Eaters, Draco Malfoy was the one he was least worried about causing problems in the future."
Scorpius sat back down, trying to imagine Harry Potter saying anything about his father that could be construed as a compliment. He didn't personally know Harry Potter, but he had learned plenty about him. His father almost always refused to speak of the man, but his existence permeated too much of the wizarding world for Scorpius not to know what things were said by others. Harry Potter was supposed to be a champion for those who were good but not seen as such by society. Had Scorpius' father become one of those people? It seemed unlikely, yet it was difficult to view Albus' words as not having significance.
Albus was looking at him expectantly. Scorpius focused instead on straightening his robes, only looking back at Albus when it was clear that his robes were as straight as they would ever be.
"He would never be a problem," Scorpius allowed. "None of my family would because what matters above all else is appearances. Causing problems would mean being sent to Azkaban."
Albus' smile changed, but it wasn't angry. It was more like he was amused at Scorpius' attempts to suggest his family weren't as great as Albus was trying to suggest they might be. Rose sliding open the compartment door interrupted them.
Something out in the corridor must have put her in a better mood, as she didn't have the same frown on her lips that she'd had for the rest of the trip. She was actually smiling, albeit not a large one, and it didn't falter as she entered and took in the sight of both of the boys in their robes. Scorpius knew that the smile wasn't for him, but it was still warmer than she'd been since meeting him.
She looked proud in her robes, having been waiting to wear them for years. Scorpius had been too, but he didn't feel as confident in his. He felt almost inadequate in them, and he had a feeling that inadequacy would increase once he had a House's colours emblazoned on them.
"Make sure you're prepared, Al," Rose urged, gathering up her trunk as if they were getting off the train right that moment.
Albus responded to the comment, locking up his trunk, and Scorpius followed his lead. He felt nervous again, unsure of what was to come once they were off the train. Albus Potter had agreed to sit with him on the Hogwarts Express and had even been kind to him, but that wouldn't necessarily mean anything once they were actually at Hogwarts.
The knots in his stomach increased as the train came to a complete stop. Rose was out of their compartment in a flash in what seemed more like eagerness to get to Hogwarts than eagerness to escape from Scorpius. Albus followed her at a much more reasonable pace, and Scorpius trailed behind far enough that it wasn't quite clear if he was with Albus or not.