A/N: This is going to be a very simple, non-drama-ful fic. I don't intend on any big things happening, because I really want to focus more on character and relationship development than anything else. This is definitely going to be an Albus/Scorpius slash pairing in the later chapters. That being said, I hope you enjoy the story! And please leave a review, because I enjoy those.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own anything Harry Potter related.

~~~IGNOMINY~~~

THE JOURNAL OF ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER

September 7th, 2017

It really is so like Rosie. Honestly. Sometimes she's so silly and headstrong, and she always drags me into things, without a single thought for my well-being. It's so unfair of her. And selfish. Don't forget selfish.

We were all right the first week. Got sorted into Gryffindor and everything, thankfully. I milked the upper hand I had on James for a few days, but he's an absolute prat, so of course he threatened me with blackmail if I took the mickey out of him any longer for being wrong about me getting sorted into Slytherin. Although, to be fair, I probably would be there right now, if the hat had its way. But nobody is ever going to know that. Well, until I'm too famous for it to matter, at any rate.

Anyway. I got off topic there. I was talking about Rose Weasley and her silly whims and fancies. Suddenly, she wants to pal up with Scorpius Malfoy. I mean, he got sorted into Gryffindor too, so he can't be all bad, but, well, Dad and his father were mortal enemies and stuff! I have to uphold the family honour! Especially since James is doing such an abysmal job of it! I mean, don't I have a duty to the Potter name or something? When I told Rosie, of course, she told me to stuff it. But I'm sure it's written somewhere. All this code of honour stuff.

I really don't have anything against Malfoy personally. We'd ended up sitting in the same carriage as him on our trip here, and he seemed all right. Bit quiet, I thought. Isn't that the sort one's supposed to watch out for? He seemed okay, I suppose. Polite, and all that jazz. Dunno. I suppose it would be a bit awful to automatically refuse to be his mate just because of his dad and everything. Honestly. Rosie. She was all agog the first week we were here. But the novelty's worn off, apparently. Because, and I know, the only reason she's doing this is because she's bored. I know she is. I mean, this is what our year looks like:

Gryffindor: Albus Potter (family)

Rosie Weasley (family)

Amanda Bones (met once or twice at large social gatherings)

Molly Weasley (the second, family)

Bert Creevey (parents are close friends)

Kaydence Christianson (Muggleborn)

Ashleigh McConaughey (Muggleborn)

Scorpius Malfoy (parents were mortal enemies)

Hufflepuff: Louis Weasley (family)

Penelope Macmillan (parents are friendly)

Jessica Summers (social gatherings)

Olivia Boot (parents are friendly)

Alex Finnegan (parents are close friends)

Calvin Ritter (Muggleborn)

Ravenclaw: Roxie Weasley (family)

Jessica Corner (parents are friendly)

Jeremy Wood (parents are close friends)

Gavin Baker (Muggleborn)

Sophie Chase (Muggleborn)

Slytherin: Sebastian Nott (social gatherings)

Fergus Warrington (social gatherings)

Brianna Pucey (social gatherings)

Heather Parkinson (Scorpius's cousin)

Wesley Derrick (social gatherings)

You see? We know everybody but the Muggleborns. And, really, Rosie and I, we're well versed in the ways of Muggles. They're not exciting to us anymore. And we've met everyone else at Ministry parties and the like. Everyone. Except Scorpius. Everyone knows his dad's a bit of a recluse. My dad says he thinks it's possible that Scorpius's dad's actually ashamed of the stuff he's done, and he's trying to live it down a bit by being a recluse. That's just the sort of person my dad is. He believes in everyone.

Anyway, so I'm pretty sure I've got Rosie's reasons for the sudden interest in Malfoy perfectly right. And because I'm her lovely, protective cousin and best mate to boot, I suppose I shall have to pal up with him too. When I am famous, the sacrifices I make for my family will be celebrated. More than they are now, at any rate.

September 8th, 2017

It's not just our year. My family is EVERYWHERE. And they poke their noses into EVERYTHING.

I have decided to write in this journal to chronicle my formative years. I am doing this because I know that one day, this will be a ridiculously important document, and will sell for many millions of galleons. The original will be a collector's item. Writing in this journal does not make me a "little girl with pigtails", IF you will, James Sirius Potter. URGH. I am so tired of him and Freddie trying to sneak into my satchel and steal it. I will have to learn some complicated protective enchantments immediately.

It's really awful, being a first year.

Vicky is in the seventh year, and is a prefect. She is really bitter about the fact that she didn't get made Head Girl. Nicky is in the fourth year, and she appears to think it's her duty to mother us all. Except she is terrible at it, being the least responsible person I know. Then there's Muggle Cousin Dudley's wizard-spawn, Getrude Dursley, in the third year. She's all right, if a little shy, but I suppose I would be too if I were as unfortunate-looking. Then, of course, there's James and Freddie, both in the second year and both obnoxious in the extreme. Louis is in our year. He's stoic. There's not much as can be said about our Louis. He's a lot like Hugo except with less speaking. Roxie, on the other hand, can rival almost anybody with her endless stream of chitchat. I like her well enough, but really, even though all four of us are the same age, Rosie and I are definitely a lot closer. I mean, of course, Rosie's my best mate. We grew up in each other's backyards. I don't think there's anything I wouldn't tell her. Not that I mean to get sappy or anything. We're just partners in crime and always have been. I don't think I'd understand the world any other way.

This journal is getting very contemplative. And while that's not a bad thing, I'm sure future readers will like to hear something about the goings-on in this era. I shan't disappoint you, my faithful fans.

All right. So Rosie pursued Scorpius, with me lagging behind half-heartedly. Our efforts seemed to amuse him, every time we'd corner him and squeeze out a conversation, he'd look like he was having a private joke. It was rather frustrating, but Rosie is good at taking these things in stride and brushing away other people's sentiments so she can concentrate on her own.

James noticed our pursuit of Scorpius, which is surprising in itself, because James is generally thick as a concussed flobberworm. But he noticed, which led him to pay a little attention to Scorpius himself. Which led to our James taking a bit of a shine to him, it appears. He's so chuffed that Gryffindor claimed a Death Eater's son that he simply loves Scorpius. Apparently, Scorpius is now the embodiment of Light's victory over Dark. I will never understand how my brother's mind works.

September 9th, 2017

James and Freddie have turned the hair of all the Gryffindor first years red and gold. There was clearly something in our pumpkin juice, because it happened at breakfast and has not worn out yet. They were in hysterics, and didn't even bother to deny it, because really, what could we do to them? They said it was their way of "welcoming us into the fold". But I know James. He just wanted to turn our hair red and gold. For fun.

Scorpius thinks James is dead funny. I knew something was wrong with him from the start. It's always the quiet ones. The two Muggleborns in our year and our house were torn between amusement and horror. I don't think they know if it's going to wear off or not. I suggested to Rosie that we might take them under our wings for a bit, since they seem a bit lost even now. Kaydence is a pleasant bloke with an accent I can't quite place. He has hair of a sort of nondescript colour. It's very interesting, because it seems to take on the colour of whatever he's around, or at least a tinge of it. It might be because it's almost colourless, but this sort of thing is very fascinating to me, because I'm a genius and I notice things that are offbeat. Ashleigh is blonde and the sort of girl who likes attention, but in a silly, soppy way. I don't dislike her, but she has about the same personality traits as a piece of wood. If pieces of wood giggled a lot.

Scorpius is on board with the idea of taking them under our collective wing. Something tells me he hasn't had much in the way of friends before. He seems to be enjoying companionship almost too much. Although something always seems to amuse him at random intervals, and his private-joke smile pops into view.

September 10th, 2017

Professor Longbottom is a nutter.

I've always known this. We grew up with Professor Longbottom, except we've always known him as Uncle Neville. But I won't write Uncle Neville in this journal because I'm trying to get used to calling him Professor Longbottom. We had Herbology this morning, with the Hufflepuffs. It was the first real Herbology lesson we've had, the one before being only introductory. We were made to work with this scruffy-looking shrub called a whistling turnip. It has turnip-like roots, and, surprise surprise, it whistles. Not all the time, apparently it only whistles when someone is plotting against you. Alex Finnegan was delighted. He doesn't like me very much. He never did, I suppose, but he's seemed to have quite a grudge against me ever since I got sorted into Gryffindor but he was put in Hufflepuff. His dad was a Gryffindor, same year as my dad, so I suppose he wanted his kid to be a Gryffindor. And I expect being sorted into Hufflepuff is a bit of a slap in the face. It basically means you don't fit in anywhere else.

Alex has made rather good friends with Calvin Ritter. Both of them sat down together and made plans to throw me into the black lake and snickered about it, and it made my stupid Whistling Turnip whistle on and on, nearly driving me crazy much to their glee. Eventually, when I was reaching the end of my tether, I yelled at them to stop it! And promptly got awarded a detention. As though it was my fault.

Rosie says it's some sort of a guilt complex thing. Apparently, according to her, Professor Longbottom is so afraid that he might show favouritism towards any of our family that he's being extra hard on us without realizing it. In other words, he's a nutter. And now I have to scrub trophies in the, surprise surprise again, trophy room. Lucky me.

September 14th, 2017

James is being infuriating. He was annoying me at supper and teasing me about being a little girl again, which is his fallback when he has nothing else to annoy me about, so I teased him back about how he used to draw a scar, like Dad's, on his forehead when he was a lot younger. He went scarlet. We are in the common room now and he has produced two bottles of Butterbeer. I can't believe this. Where could he possibly get Butterbeer from? He offered some to Scorpius and Rosie, but when I asked for a bit, he laughed at me and refused. He keeps saying I might get drunk because I'm a little girl. No one older than about six gets drunk on Butterbeer, so that's his idea of an insult, I suppose. I don't understand how he and I are related at all. I'm a child prodigy and he's a glorified ape.

He's waving the bottle in my face now. Like the scent of it is supposed to send me into a frenzy of desire or something. Freddie is hanging about in the background, giggling.

"Stop writing in that silly book!" James says. "Don't you ever look up?"

"Go away, James," I tell him. "If you're not going to give me any, then I don't understand why you're prancing around me like an idiot."

"Call me an idiot again, and I won't tell you how I got the Butterbeer."

Of course I want to know how he got it. But I know he won't tell me, not even if I offered to become his personal house elf for a week. So I'm not going to bother apologizing.

"Don't you want to know???" he says in a sing-song voice. An ape. Honestly.

September 19th, 2017

Today, I woke up with an extra nostril. I am not joking. I have three nostrils.

This is the last straw. James has had it. I am going to get my revenge on him if it's the last thing I do.

I have enlisted Rosie as my aide. We are going to prank James into oblivion. We are deep in search of a plan to embarrass him as of now. When we have thought of one, we are going to execute it in such a manner that there will be no proof that it was us. I am hoping that on top of embarrassing him, we can land him in detention. Rosie is very enthusiastic. She really has a penchant for evil schemes.

We have decided to let Scorpius be a part of our little scheming society. He doesn't have any siblings of his own, and we thought this might be a learning experience for him. He is very excited, although he tries not to show it. His private-joke smile is here in full force. He has dimples. They look very odd, and not evil in the least. If his dad has them too, I will find it very hard to visualize him as a former Death Eater.

We thought of a plan at breakfast. It is lunch right now, and if we've done everything right, or really, if Rosie has done everything right, things should be happening right about now. Oh yes, here we go. The ceiling is changing colour. The best thing about having lunch in the Great Hall is that the ceiling can be used as a screen. It is, basically, a giant scrying surface. Usually the scrying charm on it is used to make it look like the sky outside, but today, we altered it. In the beginning, Scorpius came up with the idea that I should use some of my inside knowledge of the embarrassing tales from his childhood to mortify him in front of his peers. Rosie then came up with the idea that we could use the ceiling of the Great Hall. I wanted to put one of my memories up like a film, but Rosie is a spoilsport ("We're just first years, Albus, I don't think we'll be able to do that. You can barely turn a matchstick into a needle. Blah blah blah,") so instead, we've decided to put a picture of James at six years old, standing there absolutely starkers. Oh, and even better, he's tucked his little thing between his legs, so he looks like a little girl. The picture has James Potter written on it, so that nobody is in any doubt as to who the kid is. And Rosie is absolutely brilliant, because she has managed to get the ceiling to display the picture. I'm almost sure that even fourth years couldn't pull a spell like that off. It only held up for about a minute, but it was good enough.

James is mortified. I think he might cry. My fingers are crossed. Haha, James. I still have three nostrils, you massive git!

September 23rd, 2017

I still have three nostrils. James won't tell me the countercurse. I hate him. He says he would have changed them back the same day if I hadn't pulled the ceiling trick. Worse, he didn't even get detention for it. The teachers weren't very sympathetic, but they all decided he couldn't have anything to do with it. It's so unfair. He didn't even cry, at least not in front of me. I think I might have to visit Madam Patil in the Hospital Wing if I ever want to look normal again.

We have flying lessons in a few days. I'm excited, because I haven't flown since we got here and it's been a while. I don't like going without flying. I think it's a stupid rule that first years aren't allowed to have brooms of their own. Only the ones who know how to fly would have their own brooms in the first place, and they wouldn't injure themselves if they knew how to fly, would they? And what makes second years qualified to have their own brooms if first years can't? That's like saying James is more responsible than I am, and it's a ridiculous notion. Doesn't stop him from shoving his Thunderbolt in my face anyway. Stupid idiot.

Rosie has made rather good friends with the girls in our year. I don't think Rosie has ever had female friends before. Except Lily, but Lily is insane, so I don't think that counts. Lily has too much fun in her own head to be able to make a good friend for anybody. Also, she's a kid, and Rosie's insanely old for her age. Although you wouldn't think it if you saw her with Amanda Bones and Ashleigh McConaughey (our Molly usually hangs about with Roxie, because they grew up together like me and Rosie did). They're always giggling. Why do girls giggle so much when they're in bunches together? It's very odd.

She was very offended when I asked her what they were giggling at, though.

"We do not giggle," she said, tossing her head in that Rosie way of hers.

"Well, what were you laughing at then," I asked.

"None of your business," she told me, which is ridiculous, because Rosie has never not told me stuff.

"You're just being stroppy," I argued.

"Thanks, Albus. Now you'll never know," and she walked off in a huff. Scorpius thought it was hilarious. I settled for rolling my eyes, and saying "girls!" in a meaningful, wise-sounding manner.

September 28th, 2017

We had flying lessons today, with the Slytherins. Rosie and I shot off into the air and looped and dove with perfect ease, of course. Scorpius knows how to fly too, but he didn't make a show of it. Madam Chang accused us of showing off, and said in a snide way, "we all know your mother used to fly for the Harpies, Potter. You don't have to show us every move in your repertoire." Of course, considering her profession is teaching snot-nosed eleven-year-olds how to handle a broomstick and referee the occasional Quidditch match when nobody else wants to, one has to wonder at how much of her snideness stems from bitterness. Also, if I'm not wrong, she had some sort of sordid dalliance with my dad when he was at Hogwarts. I suppose losing both career-wise and man-wise to my mum must really be awful. I am a genius for figuring this out! I hadn't thought of it before, actually, it's just come to me while writing it.

Scorpius was very friendly with some of the Slytherins. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, considering his dad was in Slytherin, and the people in it now might well be the kids of Scorpius's dad's contemporaries. He probably grew up with them. It's odd to think of, now. I mean, it wouldn't have been when I met Scorpius, I suppose, but he's such a Gryffindor to me now, I can't think of any other house for him. He has a cousin in Slytherin too, but he doesn't seem too fond of her, judging by the faces they made at each other throughout the lesson.

Come to think of it, Teddy is Scorpius's cousin too. I know because he goes to visit the Malfoys about once a year or something. I've never thought anything of it. From what Teddy's told us after these occasions, apparently it's just a sort of formal dinner, and Mrs. Malfoy is rather proper, but seems all right, and Mr. Malfoy is half-embarrassed, half-trying to make an effort. I distinctly remember Teddy saying "The kid's a topper though. He's shy, but he seems like he'd like a good bit of fun as much as anyone." It's very strange to think he was talking about Scorpius, now that's Scorpius is… well, Scorpius. He has fit in with us perfectly, I think. I mean, we're being equally friendly with everyone, and we've taken Kaydence and Ashleigh under our wing (they were really grateful of it at flying, I can tell you), but Scorpius has assumed the role of third best mate, I think. I think. I'm not giving away any titles yet. Also, I'm going to have to consult Rosie.

In other news, I have two nostrils again. I wrote to Mum. James got a howler. I'm an awful brother and I love it.

October 5th, 2017

It's Rosie's birthday. She's twelve already. Vicky thought it would be nice to have a party, so she has set one up in the Gryffindor Common Room. There are a lot of girly decorations and glitter and stuff, but it doesn't look half bad, really. All of Gryffindor is invited, which is stupid because nobody really knows Rosie. I mean, she is only a first year. Her birthday is probably only an excuse to have a party for most of Gryffindor. Vicky also told us we could invite friends from other houses. Our cousins Louis and Roxie are coming, of course, and we've also invited Penelope Macmillan, Jeremy Wood, and Sophie Chase, because we know them from a few classes, and they are nice.

The party is going all right. The older Gryffindors didn't bother to come, thankfully. James and Freddie produced lots of Butterbeer and chocolate, and let me have some, so I'm feeling quite fond of them right now.

Scratch that: I just threw up. Turns out they put a puking pastille in my Butterbeer. Oh, you are going to PAY for that one, James Sirius Potter.

I have exacted my revenge. James cannot speak because every time he opens his mouth, bubbles fly out of it nonstop. A nifty little powder from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, I knew it would come in useful one of these days. I have to go now, he looks angry.

It's disgraceful that I still can't beat James in a fight. He's less than one year older than me. I will have to bulk up so that I can break that headlock he always uses on me. Stupid James. I hate him.