Changed 2/1/08 to account for recent canon See next chapter AN for details.
While Scorpius Malfoy stood in line waiting for the Sorting Hat, Toby Dursley laughed at his name. And for that, he could not forgive her.
It was hard enough at home; his mum hated the name and his younger sister ripped him for it on every occasion. As far as Scorpius was concerned, Ianthe was just damn lucky that Astoria Malfoy had not managed to bleed herself into unconsciousness immediately after the birth of her daughter, like she'd done for her first-born son. Scorpius felt a little guilty that he wished his mum had done such a thing for Ianthe's birth, but if his father had managed to name his younger sister 'Libra', well, she could hardly even speak to him about silly names, could she?
Draco had seized upon the opportunity, during his wife's day-long bout of unconsciousness, to legally name his son Scorpius, after Astoria had placed a firm veto on said name and most such constellation derivatives.
She would've been ill-tempered upon awakening in any case; to find that her husband had saddled her brand-new son with a ridiculous name that she'd expressly rejected after she'd just nearly bled to death bringing him into the world—Scorpius sometimes doubted that, eleven years, three pregnancies, and three appropriately-named children later, his mother was finished dealing out her retribution.
To be truthful, Scorpius didn't like the name all-too-well himself, but before they'd left for the train station, his father had taken him into his library and given him a speech on upholding the family name and making his parents proud and "er…not making a bloody prat of yourself, if possible, son." He'd given him a hug, tight and warm.
Scorpius Malfoy didn't like his name, but he loved his father, who'd named him. When Toby Dursley laughed at his name, she laughed at his father. It was war.
…perhaps he shouldn't have been focussed so intensely on his loyalty to his father, because when the Sorting Hat had made its decision, Scorpius found that the only obviously open seat at the Hufflepuff table was directly next to the girl in question, who was smiling beatifically at him, her venom-green eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth.
