Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter. It belongs solely to J. K. Rowling. I am making no profit off of this story except for the enjoyment of writing it.

A/N:As you'll figure out soon enough, the POVs in my story are going to be mainly three people: Rose, Scorpius, and Albus, since it is based on their first year and all. This chapter basically covers Scorpius' views on the platform, explains his limp in the previous chapter, and shows him interacting with Julius. Please review!

Chapter Two: Miscalculations of Influential Debate

"Once we realize that imperfect understanding is the human condition, there is no shame in being wrong, only in failing to correct our mistakes."~George Soros

"Fath-dad," Scorpius whispered, "what if I'm not in Slytherin? What if I end up in some other House? What if I do end up in Slytherin? What if-"

"Scorpius," his father cut him off, taking him gently by the arm. "Neither your mum, nor I will mind whatsoever if you end up in any of the other Houses."

Scorpius gulped. "Well, yes, I know that, but what about grandmother and…grandfather?"

His father's gaze darkened and he squeezed his son's arm more firmly than he had previously. "You're grandparents have had enough say in your life thus far. If they put up any argument as to which House you end up in, they will have to speak with me. What will be done will be done, and there is no way that they could possibly influence that. Understand?"

Scorpius closed his eyes for a moment, but nodded. "Yes, fath-dad…" He had had to catch himself again. His father had explicitly told him that he didn't want his son calling him what he had called his own father. He told Scorpius that it brought up too many memories that were better buried and forgotten. "I understand."

His father gave him a small smile, but it quickly dissipated. "But…" His father sighed. "I don't want to worry you, Scorpius, but…you know your grandfather has a temper. If he makes and contact with you that you deem threatening-no, any contact at all during your stay at Hogwarts, I want you to owl me right after.

"I also want you to take extra tutoring sessions during the year."

Scorpius started. "Extra tutoring? But fa-dad, why would I need that? Is there something I should be worried about?"

"Not particularly, Scorpius." Draco and his son looked up as his wife came up behind him and rested her hand on her husband's shoulder. "At least not yet. But we all know how dedicated you are to learning. If anything, it'll be good for you. You're a Malfoy, you're meant to rise above the rest."

Scorpius smiled. "Alright, mum-" he had no trouble calling her mum, instead of mother "-I'll try my best. But I don't think I really have the essence of the Malfoy Code in me. I think I'd rather make it up as I go along." He sighed and ran his hand through his already messy blonde hair, a trait he had picked up from his balding – thinning – father whenever he was deeply in thought..

Smiling, his mother knelt before him, ignoring his protest that she would get her dress dirty, and combed her own soft, dainty hands through his hair. Now it was his father's turn to stand back as his wife took over the situation.

"Scorpius," his mum said, pride so obvious in her voice he was startled for a moment. "You're such a lovely boy. You're all a mother could ask for and more. Except I didn't have to ask, and I never would have. Your father and I wanted you to grow up being you own person, and that's exactly what you did. You make us so proud. And if I'm wrong in any sense that you're not the sweetest, smartest, most determined boy your age, than I take back everything I just said and suffer the consequences of having a very deceiving son.

"But I have an overwhelming sense that I'm not."

Scorpius smiled affectionately. "I understand, mother." His mother raised one of her perfect eyebrows. "Mum," he corrected.

Astoria Malfoy stood up from the kneeling position and wiped her hands over her dress to get off the collected dirt and dust. "Merlin," Scorpius' father said, "I sure picked one, didn't I, Scorpius?" He kissed his wife warmly and settled his arm around her shoulder.

"We've arranged for one of your professors to teach you during the school year," Astoria informed him. "He's agreed that with your current situation, it would be wise for you to learn something more than the regular curriculum usually taught at Hogwarts." She paused and shared a worried look with her husband. "And we're not saying that anything bad will happen, we just want you to be prepared if something does."

Scorpius nodded. "I know, mum." He stepped onto his tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek. "And who will be instructing me?"

His father frowned. "Someone I…knew from when I was in school. He's the Herbology professor now. Neville Longbottom."

"Neville Longbottom?" Scorpius asked in surprise. "You mean the Longbottom whose parents Great Aunt Bellatrix – "

"Yes, that one."

Scorpius had heard of him. Neville Longbottom, born on the same day as famous Harry Potter. His parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom had matched the prophecy made long ago by thrice defying the Dark Lord. For this fact, Scorpius' grandmother's sister, Bellatrix Lestrange, had gone to their home and tortured them for hours, until finally they had been driven mad by the pain. To this day the Longbottoms were still residents of St. Mungos.

"And he doesn't mind?" Scorpius asked. It had been his family who had caused Longbottom to lose his, after all.

"No, thank Merlin. Longbottom has never been much of a prejudiced person, and he likes to believe in second chances." Scorpius thought his father looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't. "And he sees you as an innocent, so I'm sure he wouldn't pass up a chance to make you safer at Hogwarts than you already are."

Scorpius wasn't exactly sure how he felt about this arrangement yet. Needless to say he wasn't thrilled to be taking lessons from a possible hostile, no matter what his father had reassured. "What about Uncle Blaise? Couldn't he teach me instead?" he asked hopefully.

But his father was already shaking his head and his mother was looking on in slight disapproval. She had never been particularly fond of his father's childhood friend. "No, your godfather, along with most of the people in Slytherin, never learned more than the standard courses, because none of us ever partook in Potter's little tutoring sessions." Draco's lip pulled back, remembering the trouble his old enemy had put him through when he used to run around the school along with the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad searching for the place the other Houses were sneaking off to to be taught by Potter. Thinking back, he wished he had been less self-absorbed and had been to one of the lessons himself, because he knew how much it would have helped to know even a portion of what Potter had taught-even if at the time he would have most likely used it on the side of the Dark instead of the Light.

"But what they learned was very useful," Draco continued, "and he wouldn't have been the best teacher to learn from anyway. He may be able to teach a couple classes a day, but if it's just a one on one session, I shudder to think of what his bizarre teaching methods could be."

Scorpius nodded. He knew his uncle was a bit on the unusual side, something he no doubt picked up from his strange mother. "Alright. I'll learn with Professor Longbottom." Placing the magically heated basket he had been carrying on the ground by his father, occupied by his Black Kingsnake, Pandora, given to him and named by his grandfather, he began reaching for his trunk when he noticed his father stiffen. "What-?" he asked, confused with his father's odd behavior when Draco gave a small, jerky nod in the direction of the other side of the platform. Turning around to follow his father's gaze, he was unsurprised to see the Potter/Weasley family staring back at them.

To one side, he saw the youngest of the clan chatting obliviously with each other. Next to them stood the Weasley-Grangers (he knew that the wife, Hermione Granger, had kept her last name through the marriage), Ron Weasley and his wife. Weasley stared at them with cold malice while Granger had a small, discomfited smile on her face. Beside them stood the Potters, Harry and Ginevra. Potter had a similar look to Weasley's, though it was more cold than malicious, and his wife's face was set in obvious dislike, though Scorpius was strangely relieved to see that there was no hatred there.

Lastly, slightly away from the adults, stood the Potter and Weasley he knew to be his age. The Potter, a nervous-looking black-haired boy with his father and, as he had been told, grandmother's striking green eyes, stood looking as uncomfortable and anxious as hell. Scorpius pitied the boy that he didn't have the talent he himself possessed of hiding his emotions.

The Weasley girl was…beautiful. With her shining dark red, vaguely frizzy curls and dark brown eyes-Earth tones that worked extremely well for her. Like her cousin, she also looked terribly nervous and instead of pity, Scorpius felt the distinct urge to rush across the platform to comfort her. Staring, he blushed lightly when he noticed her looking straight back at him. He watched as she blushed deeply and lowered her eyes promptly.

He saw her father say something to her and watched in confusion as she nodded and a scowl appeared on her face. Taken aback, he swiftly turned to his parents and, to pass the moment, nudged Pandora's basket with his foot, sticking his hands into his pockets. For the first time in his life, he felt bashful. "Um…h-here's Pandora, father-ah, dad." He cleared his throat. "So I'll see you both at Christmas?"

His father nodded, unaware of his son's change in mood and glad to be shaken out of his own. "See you at Christmas," he agreed, pulling his son in for a short hug. "Thank Longbottom for me while you're there, alright? And tell him…tell him I'm sorry for all the things I've done in the past to him."

Scorpius' mother took his father's hand. "Maybe that's best said in a letter, Draco. Not through your son," she suggested softly.

Draco nodded. "You're right, Astoria, of course." He glanced at the large clock situated on the platform wall behind them. To his son, he said, "You better get on board soon, if you want to avoid everyone else getting in the way. I remember how much of a hassle that was."

Scorpius agreed and kissed his mother for the second time on the cheek. "Good-bye, mum. I'll see you on the holidays."

As he pulled away, his mother leaned down and whispered in his ear, "She's very pretty, isn't she?" Pulling back with a knowing smile, she winked and pushed him on his way.

Flustered, he could only nod and wave.

He picked a compartment near the back of the train with little difficulty, knowing his cousin, Julius, liked to stay as far away from the Slytherins-who usually sat at the front of the train-as he could get.

He heaved his trunk up to the shelf above the seat and settled down for the wait. He was grateful to know that his cousin was just as punctual as he was, and soon arrived not long after himself.

"Scorp!" Julius exclaimed when he slid open the glass door clumsily and pulled his trunk in behind him. He hurled himself without delay at his younger cousin, beaming in very open joy.

Scorpius laughed and hugged him back. "Hey Jules! How've you been, mate?" Detaching himself, he sat back in his seat, watching Julius throw his trunk up effortlessly next to his. "Play any Quidditch this summer without me?"

"What?" Julius said in mock-disbelief, sitting in the seat opposite. "Quidditch without you? Never! You know my mum's terrible and Maggie's not old enough yet. You're the only one who offers a challenge. Even if I do beat you every time."

Julius was the oldest son of Astoria Malfoy's sister, Daphne Greengrass, previously married to Roger Davies, who she divorced after finding him with another woman, Cho Chang. Julius' younger sister, Margaret, was born shortly after and Daphne easily won the rights to her children.

"That is a complete lie!" Scorpius argued. "But, you know, I bet Maggie will make a fair beater when she grows up. She hits hard enough for it."

"Yeah, she is a bit violent for her age, isn't she?"

Scorpius nodded, grinning. "Do you know if there are any new teachers this year? Father's told me that Blaise is still Head of Slytherin and Professor Longbottom is still there as well. I even have to take private lessons with him, because father wants me 'prepared' for…well, I'm not actually sure for what."

"Really?" his cousin asked in interest, clearly unconcerned about the seriousness of the situation. "That sounds exciting! I wish I could have private lessons with him, he's a great teacher." He paused for a moment. "I think there are new professors for Astronomy and History of Magic though, Teri Boot-he went to school with my mum!-and some lady with three last names…something with an F, I think."

"I guess it is sort of interesting," Scorpius agreed while taking a mental note to remember to find out what the new professor's name was. "But I can't imagine how I'll get all my assignments done and take private lessons and do the extra credit work in case I don't get the assignments done in top order-!"

"Whoa, Scorp!" his cousin asserted, raising his arms like one would to calm a distressed animal. "No need to panic, I'll help you out if you really need it, but I sincerely doubt you will. You're already reading things for fifth year curriculum in those confusing books of yours. I'm pretty sure you can handle a few assignment for first years."

"But what if I can't! That's what I'm saying. I'm not an expert at everything, I just…like to read."

Julius looked perplexed. "So those seven hundred paged informational books on how to brew Living Death and how to Stun in fifty different ways are all pleasure reads for you?" he said. He rubbed a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "Yeah, that's it. That's the reason behind your mastermindedness."

"Shut up, Jules," the embarrassed boy grumbled. "Mastermindedness isn't even a proper word." After a moment of silence, he added in exasperation, "I'm going to the bathroom."

Scorpius slipped out of the compartment, ignoring his cousin's apologies, and ruffled his hair and sighed. When he started walking, he realized he really was wondering how he would be able to fit everything he had to accomplish in his first year of Hogwarts into his schedule and succeed at them at the same time. It was a safe bet to say that he would be tired and overworked most of the time, but he knew he wouldn't back down. Not when it meant he could once again strengthen his family name.

Pushing through the crowd of people at last boarding the train and looking for an open compartment, he reached the small bathroom located at the front. Closing and locking the door, he stepped up to the mirror and ran his hands down his soft, pale face.

His nerves were getting to him, he knew, and he couldn't let that happen. He'd been through worse than this-much, much worse. He had the scars to prove it, though they were all safely hidden. Both physical and emotional. He was certain he could go through Hell and back and he'd be fine. So compared to that, what was so bad about this?

And suddenly he knew. A face-her face-came into his head. It was contorted unattractively in dislike, and that dislike was centered at him. His stomach curled and he almost gagged at the sight in his mind. For some reason he wanted her approval, and he had no idea why-or how-to get it.

He could easily guess why she loathed him so much. Or loathed him and his family, rather. Being a Weasley he knew that her father would have loads of fascinating stories to share with her about his six years at Hogwarts being tormented by the son of a Death Eater and soon-to-be Death Eater himself. His father. And he was only too aware of how much he looked like him, with his strikingly white-blond hair and those cold grey eyes that no matter how hard he tried would stay seemingly emotionless throughout any experience he went through. He wondered what she had seen, looking straight into them. Hostility? Scorn? Hatred? Absolutely nothing?

Groaning, he ran the sink and splashed water on his face. He'd forget about it-her-eventually. He could and he would. It was as simple as that…wasn't it?

Yes, he told himself firmly, it was.

He recalled all that his father had told him about the Potter/Weasley clan. There were dozens of them, coming mostly from the five children of Arthur and Molly Weasley who had actually settled down. The Potters only had three children-two boys and a younger girl. The Weasley-Grangers had two-a younger boy around the Potter girl's age and…Rose. His age, ginger, small in weight and height, deep brown eyes, caring but conniving. Malfoy-hater, just like her father.

He shook his head. No, he needn't go so in depth with her character. She wouldn't be a large part of his life, because he wouldn't let her. Not that she would want to be.

Wiping his face with a small paper towel, he pulled himself together and exited the restroom. He had taken enough time to control his emotions, now he had six hours with nothing to do but chat with his cousin and sit in quiet but for the rumbling of a train. It would be peaceful, he hoped.

…Well, that hope didn't last long.

He kept his hands in his pockets and his head down as he walked slowly and carefully past the Slytherin-filled compartments. He knew if he ran into any seventh years, or anyone, really, who had had a Death Eater in their family, he would be dead meat. He knew he would have hell to come this year, even if he wasn't sorted into Slytherin. If he was, he wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly showed up one day floating face down in the Black Lake. He abruptly comprehended his father's reasoning behind asking Professor Longbottom for extra lessons. He would surely need them.

His mind distant, Scorpius barely noticed when another's shoulder bumped into his, nor the sound of shuffling robes as three wands were pulled from the holders.

"Watch where you're going, Malfoy," a snide voice sounded to the side and behind hm. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, would we?"

Scorpius stiffened, but turned. "Henrietta," he greeted the girl frigidly. "I apologize for my rudeness."

Henrietta Nott smirked. "'Course not, Scorpi. You're never rude, is he, Goyle? Bulstrode?"

Behind her, flanking her on both sides, Scorpius recognized the two boys-Vincent Goyle, named for the boy's father's lost friend, and Phineas Bulstrode. Goyle, a boy of similar physical appearance as his father at his age but even more of a dunderhead, had a smirk similar to Henrietta's, but he seemed confused with the circumstances. Bulstrode, an unappealing, lanky boy with greasy brown hair, was the more intelligent of the two, but not by much.

"Nope," Bulstrode agreed obediently.

Goyle still had a somewhat perplexed expression. "Wha-? Uh…n-no, I guess not."

Nott turned around to scowl at him before turning back with her unpleasant smirk. "So how's your traitor father been, Malfoy? Still the lapdog of the Minister, is he?"

Scorpius growled inwardly. His father was certainly not a lapdog. In fact, he practically ran the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes by himself. "He's been fine, thanks," Scorpius replied through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to hex her. "But I think I'll be on my way now, if you don't mind…"

He was already turning when Nott responded. "Oh, but we do mind, Scorpius. Don't you want to stay here and play with us a bit longer? Like we used to do before…well, you know what happened." She grinned cruelly at him, goading him with her ugly brown eyes-which Scorpius noticed randomly were nowhere near as pretty as Rose Weasley's, even if they were almost the exact same shade. In a way, it was creepy, even.

She made a signal to Bulstrode and Goyle-who had finally understood where all of this was going-and the two thugs moved past her, faces a matching pair of confidence and arrogance. They were certain they could take the small, fragile boy whose dainty hands and face looked so much like a girl's.

Like hell, Scorpius thought.

Goyle was the first down, a quick kick to the groin felling him. His gasping breath made Scorpius want to laugh, but instead he turned to Bulstrode and gave the shocked boy a hard punch to the face and knee to his gut, knocking any air still in his body out for at least a few seconds.

Seeing that Goyle was recovering, Scorpius gave a softer kick to the boy's side, causing him to give a breathless curse. Looking over at Bulstrode, he was satisfied to see the boy cowering against the corridor wall. Upon looking up from the two previously potential threats, he noticed heads sticking out curiously from the compartments around them and Nott's shocked but outraged face.

Since he really didn't want to face the entire Slytherin House, Scorpius began to back up as fast as he could. Luckily he was close to the end of the Slytherins' section. "Don't bother me again, Nott," he warned.

She shrieked, lifted her wand, and shouted, "Diffindo!"

Eyes widening, Scorpius did the only thing that came to mind and turned and ran. His legs jetted out behind him and he heard the distinct sound of the carpet just a foot behind him being ripped open. He heard Nott cast the spell again and this time felt a burn begin on the back of his leg, coupled by a warm trickle of liquid he assumed to be blood.

Gasping, he turned around, taking his wand out of his pocket as he did so, and shouted in return, "Expelliarmus!"

He expertly caught the wand that came soaring towards him. Throwing it to the ground behind him, he said scathingly, "I said,' leave me alone,' Henrietta." He walked away. The jogged. Then started to run at an uncomfortable gait, grimacing at the pain in his leg. "Shit," he cursed beneath his breath and looked over his shoulder to check if Nott had pursued. He sighed in relief when he saw that she had been smart and hadn't. Though if she had been the least bit smart at all, she wouldn't have threatened him in the first place.

He heard a voice from a near corridor shout, "Sit your scrawny ass down, Fred Weasley, and leave Domi alone!" A smile tugged at his lips. Ah, the Weasley family's compartment. It was probably jam-packed with every relative they had attending Hogwarts at the moment.

Before he could further contemplate what he had heard, his head swiveled when a pleasant voice, but twisted in a terrible way, said, "Late for something, Malfoy?"

Raising his eyebrow and steadying his racing heart, he replied, "Not particularly, Weasley." He thought he sounded curt enough, but was disheartened when he saw the girl's scowl deepen. He pulled self-consciously at his shirt and tried not to look down at his ruined pants, lest he draw her gaze. Of all the people to meet in the corridor of a huge train, it had to be the one that had been on his mind so much more than should be normal. He sighed silently. It was just his luck, he supposed.

Scorpius watched wonderingly as Rose stepped so her body was pressed against the wall. "Well," she said in a rude tone, "are you going or not?"

Scorpius felt his eyes widen and he winced. He hadn't expected her to be as aggressive towards him in their first meeting as she was, and he already felt his anger from his previous situation exchange itself for hurt. He mentally shook himself. "Uh, right, I guess I will then." He took a small step forward, unprepared for the unexpected warmth that he instantly felt radiating off of her. He paused.

What was she doing in the corridor, alone, sitting on her trunk-uncomfortably, it seemed-anyway? A girl like her shouldn't be by herself where anyone could come along and decide it would be fun to mess with the small first year.

Shifting himself so he could look her in the eye and keep pressure off of his hurt right leg, he asked with a small smile, "Are you going to sit out here the whole train ride?"

"Well I certainly wouldn't sit with you, if that's what you're insinuating!" she cried, apparently offended that he would even think it.

He shook his head, attempting to keep his expression pleasant even though he was stung by her disgusted comment.

Then he remembered the voice he had heard a small ways back. "No," he said softly, the only part of his words that showed how he felt, "I was just wondering why you would be sitting in the corridor when you're entire clan is just a compartment down." Taking the silence that followed as his chance to leave, he gave her a small smile and wave and walked-limped-back to the compartment he shared with Julius.

When he reached it, however, he found his normally cheerful cousin in a frightfully forlorn mood. "Are you okay, Jules?" he asked quietly.

"What?" His cousin jerked his drooping head away from the window. "Oh! Hey, Scorp. Didn't hear you come in, what with…you know…with the train moving and all…"

"Right…" Scorpius took his seat from earlier, studying his friend. "What happened, mate? Did a Slytherin come by while I was gone? Did they hurt you? Hex you? Did they say something to you about our family? Because you know everything they say is bull sh-"

"No, Scorpius!" Julius yelled, cutting him off. He sighed. "Nothing bad happened, alright? I'm just a little put out about something. It's nothing to worry about." His eyes traveled downward. "That, however, is. What the bloody hell happened, Scorp? You were away for three minutes!"

His finger pointed to Scorpius' cut leg and stained pants. "Oh, bloody hell," Scorpius moaned, "mum bought me these for my birthday!" He pulled unhelpfully at them.

Julius groaned and removed his cousin's hand from the pants. "What are we going to do with you, Scorp? Always picking a fight."

"Always fighting the good fight," Scorpius corrected, then winced when his cousin poked the wound. "Ow," he said pointedly, glaring.

"Just let me see it."

He nodded reluctantly and pulled the pant leg up slowly. He ripped off a bit of his shirt-now that the matching pants were ruined, it wasn't like it mattered-and rubbed at the blood still dripped down his leg.

"Who was it this time?" Julius asked, taking the cloth from Scorpius and kneeling beside him to take up the job.

"Um…ow! It was Henrietta Nott, mostly…Merlin, do you have to press so hard?"

His cousin ignored his complaint. "Who else besides Nott?"

"Goyle and Bulstrode."

Julius looked up in surprise. "But I thought you were friends with them!"

"'Was' being the keyword, Jules. I guess that was before our parents really got to us, you know?"

His closest friend looked up, his eyes partly sad, partly understanding. "Yeah, I know." He looked back down, avoiding Scorpius' calculating eyes.

"Julius…" Scorpius said. "Is this about what happened before I got back?"

He hadn't seen his cousin blush that deep or stutter so much since after his aunt had given Julius 'the birds and the bees' talk. "W-what? N-no, this has n-nothing to do with w-what's g-going on!"

"So there is something going on, then?" he said triumphantly. His cousin shot him a dirty look.

"Yes, fine. There's something going on, but it's nothing I won't get over. Just drop it, okay?" Without leaving room for argument, he said, "Episkey," and sat back in his seat.

Scorpius nodded and left him alone, leaning over to inspect the perfectly healed cut. No scar, thank Merlin. "Thanks, mate. I think I'll sleep for a bit, though. Wake me up when we get there?" he asked.

Julius smiled in relief. "Sure, Scorp. No problem."

Smiling back, Scorpius stretched his legs and lifted them onto the seat, but stopped when he noticed a small garment bundled near the edge. Picking it up, he asked his friend, "Hey, Jules? Whose hoodie is this?"