Rose's P.O.V
As I strolled onto platform nine and three quarters, that dull september day felt like the best day of my existence. Why? Well, because I had that silver badge pinned onto my woollen jumper, on the right hand side of my chest. Head Girl it read, ever so sleekly in that silver writing.
I felt achievement, of some sort, that I, Rose Minerva Weasley had been graced with such an honour. My dad and mum had been ecstatic. Well, my mum had been. All my dad was wondering was why Hugo wasn't captain of the Quidditch team yet. Hugo, his big, strong boy. That was the thing. My Dad didn't bloody care about my school life, and he didn't even act like he cared unless I mentioned Malfoy. Then, he would get angry, and throw a strop about the fact that Albus' best friend just happened to be in my presence a lot. My dad, although in the body of a fourty-something year old man, was a child, a three year old who held a grudge towards Scorpius' father.
Not that I even cared. I hated Scorpius Malfoy with a complete passion. He was a complete tosser, an arrogant tosser, who thought he was all high and mighty, with his oh-so-lordlike façade and his blood, as pure as crisp snow in winter.
But I didn't have to sit in the compartment with Malfoy and Albus anymore. I got to sit in the Head Boy and Girl's department. I hoped the head boy was someone nice, like Lorcan Scamander. I stepped onto the train, and pulled myself up onto the top step, which was hard as my upper body strength had not improved over the summer. I walked towards the Heads' compartment, smiling softly at some forlorn first years as I pulled open the door to the compartment.
It was bigger than the regular compartments that I was used to sitting in, and the seats looked much comfier. I was the first here, so I sat down on the seat and lulled my head back, shutting my eyes and setting my book on the table. I dreamed of my year at hogwarts, and how fun it would be to be a Head. I thought of Lorcan and I, and how fun it would be to share the Head's Quarters in school.
"Cosy there, Weasley?" I heard the voice that i needed to hear least. I looked up, to see a muscular, tall boy. His platinum blonde hair was coated with gel, which slicked it back, to make him look more sophisticated. His thin lips were curved into a coy smirk, as he looked at me as if I was some sort of rodent, that had just happened to jump onto the Hogwart's Express by chance.
"What in merlin's beard are you looking at, Malfoy?" I said, suddenly sitting up straight and folding my arms, feeling slightly violated by the angle I'd been lying at when he's arrived.
"No need to cover anything, Weasley. It's not like there's anything that beautiful to gaze at." Scorpius said the horrid words as easily as one would respond to a question asked in class.
"You arrogant bastard." I muttered beneath my breath, as he sat across from me.
"I love it when you talk dirty, Weasel." He cooed, leaning his elbow on the table. Oh dear, I'd seem to have forgotten what an undeniable asshole he was.
I pretended to be reading my book, and not listening to him. But I couldn't. Even his breathing was more irritating than anything i'd ever witnessed. I closed my eyes, and counted to three. One... two...
"You really shouldn't be here Malfoy." I snapped, closing my book with a flood, "The new head boy will be here just any moment and you're clouding up my personal space." I tilted my head, and waited for him to leave.
But he didn't. Somehow, that smirk grew wider. Somehow, he sat up straighter. He raised an eyebrow, and pointed his finger to the breast of his jumper. That's when I saw it. The silver shield, almost identical to the one i'd clipped onto my own jumper this morning. I blinked and blinked, checking if I was dreaming. But the pin stayed there.
Scorpius Malfoy was Head Boy.