The first years were quick to settle into the routine of life at Hogwarts, helped along by the prefects, and hindered by the antics of Peeves the poltergeist. Scorpius, however, was having a particularly hard time finding his way around. He, like the other first years had learnt that the castle was not the most forgiving place, the moment your mind wandered for a second from wherever you were headed it was liable to change on you, but it seemed that the castle was particularly nasty where he was concerned. He could hardly find his way from the dormitories to the Dining Hall in the morning, even with a Prefect three steps in front of him.
By the end of the second week of September Scorpius was fed up, he'd gotten a detention from Professor Longbottom, his head of house, for being late to three classes in a row, and was set to lose them the house championship all on his own if he didn't stop losing points for his lateness.
It didn't help that most of the school hated his guts merely for being a part of his family; the only person who would talk to him was Rose Weasley. And it was obvious from the way she spoke that she was only trying to be nice, she didn't want to talk to him. She was polite enough when they were paired in class or when he asked her to pass him things at meals, but he would not delude himself into believing that she actually liked him.
It wasn't like he needed friends anyways; his father had always maintained that it was important he keep himself separate from the common folk, that he not stoop to a lower level than befitted someone of his birth. Not that he had ever taken any other piece of advice his father had given him. But there had to be some truth in the ideals of his family, they had once been respected by all, and they still held a sizeable fortune, surely somewhere they had the right idea.
Rose looked across the breakfast table at the boys in her house, the first years had taken, for no reason that she could imagine, to all sitting together at every meal, boys on one side, girls on the other. It wasn't as if they sat together so as to talk with each other, or work on homework, it just seemed as if they could think of no other way to take a meal, and so the habit stood because no one, her included, seemed to want to break the comforting ritual.
Rose had been, like usual, the last one up that morning, this meant that she had gotten, as was often the case, stuck on the end of the silent row. While this meant that she had some elbow room it also meant that she was very limited in who she could watch. And watching was what Rose loved to do. It wasn't that she was shy, or disliked conversation, she was just partial, a good deal of the time, to watching what other people were doing, listening in on their conversations, and just being, in general, a snoop. Across from her was Emmett Livingston, beside him sat Gareth King, neither of whom were, in her opinion, particularly interesting, especially when they weren't talking. She longed to sit across from Scorpius, the interplay of emotions across his face was interesting, to say the least, plus, no one else would even acknowledge him and she felt bad for that.
Rose let out a heavy sigh that attracted, if not glares, then certainly looks, from the rest of the first years. Once they had looked away she sighed more quietly and picked up a piece of bacon, resigning herself to a quiet, and in all likelihood boring, meal.
Mondays were, in Scorpius' mind, an instrument of torture thought up to test his will to stay at Hogwarts. Not only did he have to wake up early, but the Gryffindors had to endure an entire morning of classes with Slytherins, and as much as most Gryffindors hated the Slytherins he knew he hated them that much more. The represented everything that was wrong with his father, everything that his family had ever believed, and potions, with a decidedly pro-Ravenclaw teacher, Professor Gaggle, was almost the worst thing he could imagine.
This made Mondays incredibly difficult for him to even contemplate, let alone actually sit through.
"Master Malfoy, I believe that we are reading page 371 of our books. Even if you feel like you have a firm grasp of the concepts involved in an Engorging Potion I would still personally feel much better if you followed the requirements of being in my class." Gaggle's shrill voice penetrated easily through his wandering mind and called him back to class.
"Sorry Professor, I sort of just-" he began to think of an excuse but she quickly cut him off.
"No excuses boy, read the pages, and kindly refrain from discussing them with Weasley." She gave him stern look from atop her long nose before swooping off to confront Emmett, who was animatedly describing something to Albus Potter.
Scorpius looked over at Rose wondering what had made Professor Gaggle think that he would even think about talking to her. It was true that this was Rose's best class, and, therefore, the one in which she felt as if she had the most right to talk, but their conversation was fleeting, at best, and stunted and stuttering at worst. He shot Rose another quick look before rummaging in his bag to retrieve the book in question. He had just found the page and begun to read when, for the second time that class, he was startled by a female voice.
"I won't be offended if you actually listen what she said." This time the voice was Rose's and, as a result, was not reminiscent of the squealing of a tea kettle.
"What?" Scorpius looked at her blankly for a second before realizing what she had said. "Oh, well I was, actually." His response sounded brusque and clipped, even to his own ears, but Rose, much to his surprise, smiled.
"That's hardly surprising, you never say much anyways." Rose's voice had fallen until it was barely more than a whisper; obviously she was trying to avoid Gaggle's notice for as long as possible.
"I say plenty." Again, his reply was short. "When there is someone to say things to." He added, trying to prove his point.
"Maybe you do, but not here." She smiled again. "Here you're always quiet, although," she dropped her voice even lower, making it seem almost like they were engaged in a conspiracy "I can tell you have thoughts of things to say, every, single one is written on your face. You're very easy to read." She leaned back, looking almost pleased with herself for saying that.
"There is no chance you know what I'm thinking, none at all." His response was quick; he could feel a small bubble of anger building, coming close to the surface.
"Of course I do. You're annoyed I'm talking to you, instead of letting you read, curious as to why I would even want to talk to you, I haven't before, a little bit embarrassed that you were just yelled at, and, of course, surprised that I am getting all of this right." She flashed him a last smile, giving him a chance to compose himself for she had; he had to admit, been right.
"Go read now, I'll stop annoying you." With that she turned back to her own book and promptly buried her nose deep inside its covers.
A/N:
Another update :) Aren't you happy with me? Anyways, I'm going away soon, so this is close to be the last update for a while...Hope you enjoy it. Send me a review to let me know what you think :).
Thanks to Avanell my favourite reviewer.