On the other side of the Great Hall, Scorpius was gazing up at the Head table, bored beyond imagining. He had already been sorted into Slytherin, as he knew he would be – with his slicked back hair and pointed chin, there was no mistaking whose son he was.
At the mention of Remembrance Day, however, he snapped back to attention and focused his gaze on the teacher speaking. As the announcement drew to a close, he let his gaze wander over to the Gryffindor table, where he saw the typical flaming red hair of a Wesley. He felt his spine stiffen as he took in her profile – freckles, red hair (although apparently, her mother's brains) and surprisingly, non-hand-me-down robes. Not much of a shock, though – after the War, both he Potters and the Weasley-Grangers had come into a lot of money. His eyes moved to the petite brunette sitting next to her, and almost like she could sense that she was being watched, she turned around. She had piercing green eyes, and as they looked right through him, she smiled and turned away.
Scorpius could feel his heart beating fast and took a deep breath, then caught himself. She was a Potter, and he was a Malfoy. He told himself to stop being ridiculous, and turned away from the Gryffindor table. But he couldn't escape the nagging feeling, which he knew was his heart and head, pulling in opposite directions.
