"I'm going to be a Slytherin," proclaimed the pale-haired boy, his pointed chin jutting proudly. "The Malfoys are always in Slytherin. The Greengrasses too, for that matter."
"I hope I'm not in Slytherin," grumbled the thin-faced boy with jet black hair, his fingers idly tugging on a loose thread that dangled from the hem of his jacket.
"Why? Slytherin is great. My dad was a Slytherin. He says I'll do just fine there. I hope he's right." The pale boy practically vibrated with excitement. "I'm Scorpius, by the way. Scorpius Malfoy." He offered a friendly hand and a warm smile to the boy with whom he found himself sharing a compartment on the Hogwarts express.
The thin-faced boy's pale green eyes widened in recognition. "My uncle says your dad is a right git," he informed Scorpius conversationally, a vein of condemnation not absent from his tone.
Scorpius shrugged affably. "Sometimes, yeah," Scorpius agreed. He dropped his outstretched hand, his eyes darting between it and the boy who sat across from him. "Least that's what my mum says when dad's in a particularly bad mood, But she was a Slytherin and I'd reckon she's the best mum in the whole world." A deep scarlet dawned across Scorpius' otherwise white face, cresting atop his generously round cheeks. He glanced away, pressing his face into the charcoal wool of his coat.
"I'm named after a Slytherin," the boy with the black hair admitted reluctantly, "and a Gryffindor. Albus Severus Potter." He winced.
"Really?!" exclaimed Scorpius, his eyes wide with unguarded curiosity. "Then Slytherins can't be all bad if your parents thought to name you after one. And anyway," he continued with a shy grin, "Slytherin's churned out some of the most famous wizards of all time. Merlin-"
"And Voldemort," Albus added, deadpan.
Scorpius flinched, his silver eyes flying wide. "yeah," he agreed after a nervous pause. "Him too, I suppose."
"Sorry," Albus muttered, his eyes cast downward at his scuffed trainers.
"That's all right."
An uncomfortable silence descended upon them. In the quiet, both boys sat stiffly, stealing covert glances at one another when they thought the other was not paying attention to his surroundings. The faint but persistent knock at the compartment door had both boys looking up in relief, eager to set eyes on their rescuer. In stepped none other than Rose Weasley, Albus' cousin and best friend.
"Hey, Al, why aren't you in your robes yet?" Rose asked, her left hand unconsciously twining into the smooth ribbon of pale red hair that laid flat along her shoulder.
"So that's where you went?" Albus asked. "To put on your robes."
"Not just that," said Rose a bit defensively. "I also popped by Vic's compartment to return a book I borrowed last week. And then, on the way back down the corridor, I ran into Molly and Louis. We got to talking about the things my dad said on the platform and..." She trailed off, her cheeks taking on the color of freshly boiled lobster.
"We won't arrive for ages, you know," Albus reminded her, shifting his belongings to make room for her in the seat beside him.
"Yes, Of course I know that," grumbled Rose, rolling her eyes. "But I wanted to be ready, just in case." She settled herself next to Albus, smoothing out her robes as she did so.
"In case of what, Rose? Someone invents time travel?" Asked Albus sarcastically.
"Too late. Someone's already done that," Rose replied primly.
"What? How do you-?" Albus began, but was cut off by Rose, who had narrowed her pale blue eyes on the third occupant of the compartment.
"I'm not supposed to talk to you." Rose informed Scorpius, who had been staring fixedly at her, mouth agog, from the moment she had entered.
"Oh," was all Scorpius could manage, though his eyes did not leave her face.
"My father thinks yours is a sniveling coward and a git to boot," she explained in a matter-of-fact tone, her thin brows raised.
"Right, so I've heard," Scorpius mumbled with a glance at Albus.
"And my granddad-" Rose continued, leaning toward him, her face animated.
"Oh, lay off, Rose," Albus commanded. He smacked a hand over her mouth, muffling the stream of words that fought to spill free. Eyes narrowing, Rose stuck out an elbow, jabbing her cousin in the side. With a hiss of pain, Albus released her. "You need to stop hanging 'round with Roxanne so much, Rosie. It's made you vicious."
"When I told you to go find us a compartment, I didn't expect you to choose the one with a blood purist in it," she bit out, her voice almost as shrill as Gran Weasley's got whenever all of her grandchildren visited at once.
"I'm not a blood purist," Scorpius protested meekly. Scorpius' feet skimmed the carpeted floor of the compartment as he swung them, producing a faint swishing sound.
"You're not?" Rose asked incredulously. "That's not what my father says, I'll have you know." Arms folded across her chest, Rose glared at him, apparently awaiting an explanation.
"I'm Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy," stated Scorpius Malfoy," Scorpius informed her, his silver eyes trained on his bouncing feet.
"I know," Rose said dryly, her eyes cast heavenward.
"Actually, you don't," Scorpius disagreed. "I'm not my dad, or my grandfather, or any other Malfoy you know of. I'll make my own mark on the world: I promise you that." After such a proclamation, he seemed to deflate. His face growing paler than Albus had ever seen on s living person, Scorpius snatched up a bundle of black fabric and darted out of the compartment, mumbling something about finding a free corner in which to don his robes.
"What's gotten into you now?" Asked Albus as he slumped back against his seat.
Rose released an aggregated sigh. "I've been mulling over what my father said on the platform."
"About Scorpius?"Albus raised a single brow, disbelief clear in the gesture.
"What? No!" Rose shifted in her seat to face him fully. Deep lines stood out at the sides of her mouth. In that moment, she greatly resembled her mother. "I'm talking about me potentially not being in Gryffindor. He expects it and I'm just not sure if-well, I even want to be a Gryffindor. I know the Weasleys are always in Gryffindor, but I'm a Granger, too."
Albus frowned in confusion. "Aunt Hermione was a Gryffindor, or don't you remember, Rosie?" The corner of Albus' mouth quirks up.
"Yeah, I know," she muttered, flopping back against her seat. "But dad said it himself: I inherited my mother's brains. I'm not so sure I inherited much else for either of them though. I'm not particularly brave or even the slightest bit reckless, like Roxanne or James. I like my books and I like music. That's about all with me."
"Rose, do you want to be a Gryffindor?" Albus inquired, laying a hand on her forearm.
Rose raised her head to meet her favorite cousin's eyes. "I don't want to disappoint my dad, Al. I can't disappoint him-I just can't."
"You won't, Rosie. I swear you won't," Albus promised, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Uncle Ron loves you. He hasn't stopped being proud of you since that boring piano recital you had when we were five."
"He wasn't even sure what a piano was before that recital," remarked Rose, the shadow of a smile on her face.
"Now he does," Albus laughed, nudging her shoulder with his. "Look, Rose, I know how you're feeling. Really, I do. I don't want to be sorted into Slytherin-or at least," Albus spared a glance at the seat that was once occupied by peculiar Scorpius Malfoy, "I didn't. But I think I just want to be put in whatever house suits the wizard I want to become. I think that's what my father was trying to tell me all along. I want to be an Auror, just like my dad. Isn't that why we're sorted into houses in the first place?"
"Actually, students sorted into different houses because-"
Albus held up a hand, halting her before she could really get going. "I don't need a history lesson, Professor."
Rose scowled at him, loathing his use of the childhood nickname he had bestowed upon her. "But Al-"
"Just think about it, Rose. Promise me," Albus demanded, holding out a hand to her. "Promise me that, no matter what happens, we'll make the best out of our lot. Even if I'm saddled with Slytherin, I'll be an Auror someday."
Rose grasped his hand, trepidation clear in the tension that knit between her brows. "And I'll..." She paused. What did she want most of all? "I'll be Rose M. Weasley. Gryffindor...or not. I'll be the girl who loves playing the piano and reading her books and testing out new recipes with Gran."
"You ought to give up on that last one, Rosie," Albus suggested, in a teasing tone. "You're rubbish in the kitchen. Not even Gran was able to save your mince pie last christmas."
She shoved him playfully, "It wasn't supposed to be mince pie. It was a butterscotch custard!"
"My point exactly," he laughed.
"Al!" Rose nearly knocked him from his seat.
"Only joking. Stow your wand, woman."
Albus' cheeky grin was infectious. Rose found herself smiling, too. "Agreed." She shook his hand once, then released it to run her fingers through her hair. "Guess I ought to apologize the your new friend the," Rose stated, straightening her robes to their formerly unrubpled glory.
"He's not my friend," Albus disagreed, his face suddenly serious. "At least, not yet." His expression turned into one of unbridled contemplation. "But I think he'd make a good choice, if I'm honest."
Author's Note:
First, I'd like to thank you for reading my work. Whether you stumbled upon it and decided to take a glance on a whim, or you're a follower of mine, I appreciate you.
Beyond emparting my gratitude, I would like to take the time to state that I thoroughly enjoyed writing both Rose's and Albus' stories. Rose's, in particular, was a whirlwind of frenzied expression. Her story began in the guise of a daydream. I saw a pensive girl with wild red hair surrounded by toppling stacks of books. I wrote the previous short story from there, taking what I had gathered from the Rose I met in that daydream.
The story above is the result of one hour and two cups of life-giving coffee; sometimes, the muse must be forced using coercion and far too much caffeine.
Again, I hope you like what you read here. Please leave me a review. As always, your words are my inspiration—be them friendly of otherwise. Let me know what you think of my interpretations of Rose, Albus, and Scorpius.
Until next time, Potterheads,
Ilove, Luna.