Dear Mother and Father,
So we had the sorting on the first day of school. They have this hat, and it… You know that already. Never mind.
Dear Mother and Father,
I know you were expecting me to be sorted into Slytherin just like everybody else in the family has been ever since we can remember, but there was some sort of fluke. No, this makes me sound like a complete freak.
Dear Mother and Father,
Do you think Grandfather was really serious about disowning me if I wasn't the perfect Slytherin? How about if I wasn't a Slytherin at all? Is that better or worse, do you think? Well, obviously, that's worse. What a stupid question.
Dear Mother and Father,
I'm in Gryffindor, and if you don't like that fact, you can just disown me! No, wait, I really don't want you to disown me, I was just joking.
Scorpius sighed and looked at the crumpled drafts of his letters littering the crimson carpet of his new common room. It had been a week since the sorting hat had broken the long line of Malfoy Slytherins, and he still couldn't think of the right way to tell his parents.
Rose was giggling in her chair, reading his last attempt. "Disown you? That's a little passive-aggressive, don't you think?"
Albus plucked the parchment from her hand and chortled as he read it. "More aggressive-aggressive, I'd say."
Scorpius sighed again, "How would you tell your parents if you weren't in Gryffindor?"
Albus stopped laughing. "Like that would ever happen," he scoffed. "Gryffindors through and through, the Potters and the Weasleys both, it would be breaking generations of tradition."
Scorpius shot him a pointed look.
"Oh. Right," Albus mumbled. "Sorry."
"It does happen, Scorp," Rose said comfortingly. "Genealogy is a part of it, to be sure, but it really depends more on the individual. Sirius Black was a Gryffindor, and his whole family was Slytherin."
"I know," Scorpius said, "he was my great-uncle once removed or something."
"Well, nothing bad happened to him."
Scorpius glared at her. "He really was disowned, Rose."
"Actually," Albus said, "I think he ran away. But your point is still valid," he hastened to add, seeing the look on Scorpius' face.
"I think you're making this out to be much worse than it is," Rose remarked. "Your parents will love you no matter what, and you really should at least write to them. I've already written mine twice, and you've not even sent a letter. They must be getting frantic."
As if on cue, an owl tapped at the window, and Albus crossed the room to get the mail.
"It's my Grandfather I'm more worried about, not my parents," Scorpius grumbled to Rose.
"Hey, Scorp, it's for you," Albus called.
"It's from Mother," Scorpius said, taking the neatly printed envelope and looking at the others frantically.
"See," Rose remarked smugly. Scorpius threw her a glare and opened the envelope.
Dear Scorpius,
How's school so far? Your father and I haven't heard from you yet, but we're not sure if this is a good sign or not. Have you made friends? What classes do you like? What teachers are good?
The other children aren't being too horrible, are they? I know your father frets about this a great deal, even if he won't admit it.
I saw the loveliest green socks in Diagon Alley the other day; I'm sending them with a larger owl. I remember how cold it can be down under the lake once winter arrives.
I am sorry this didn't come with morning post, but I had thought I still might hear from you today before your grandparents came for lunch and asked about you. Grandfather looked suspicious when I said we hadn't heard from you, so I decided to just go ahead and write. I'm sure your Grandfather is worried that the Potters and Weasleys are trying to turn you, so a few words about what a true Malfoy you are might do wonders for his spirits. On second thought, why don't you tell him that you're best friends with the Potters and Weasleys? A shock might do him a bit of good. Or just finish him off, which would do us all a bit of good. Don't tell your father I said that.
Keep up with your schoolwork, and please write.
Father sends all his love, as do I.
Mother
"Ironic," Albus remarked dryly. "Granddaddy Dearest's greatest fears come true."
Rose was giggling again. "I think I like your mother," she said. "Just finish him off," she quoted under her breath, laughing again.
Scorpius glared at both of them. "In what way is this remotely funny?"
"It does give you a rather good opening," Albus remarked. "Something like… Dear mum, sorry I haven't been writing, I've been spending too much time with my good friends Albus Potter and Rose Weasley. They're really fabulous; I think I'm spending all my holidays with them so I can de-Malfoy as much as possible. If Grandfather's still breathing, you could try telling him that I'm actually in Gryffindor, and that would probably do the trick. Did they happen to have those socks in red, as well? Although with all the cheery, roaring fires up here, I probably won't need them anyway. Send all my love to Grandfather, assuming he's still alive, and Father too, of course, if he hasn't passed out yet. All my love, your thoroughly Gryffindor son, Scorpius. P.S. Please don't disown me, the Potters and Weasleys can't support me in the lavish lifestyle to which I am accustomed."
"Not at all helpful," Scorpius growled as Rose fell out of her chair, doubled over with laughter.
"Sorry," she said, wiping her streaming eyes. "You really do need to reply to that letter, though, hopefully before she sends the socks…" and she was laughing again, so hard that she was clutching at the chair to stay upright.
"Sorry, sorry," she said again. "I'll help you draft it, if you like."
Dear Mother,
Thank you for your letter. I'm terribly sorry that I haven't been writing much lately, I've been caught up in schoolwork and getting to know my classmates. I'm quite fond of potions, though Professor Longbottom is my favorite teacher, and he instructs herbology. And tell Father that the other children haven't been so bad, especially not with the friends I've made.
Mother, school is wonderful, though not at all as I've expected it to be, and I would appreciate it if you could break the news to Father, and especially Grandfather, in the gentlest way possible, for though I fully sympathize with your desire to "do in" Lucius Malfoy, Father would probably be unhappy with the both of us.
I sat on the train with, as Grandfather feared, Rose Weasley and Albus Potter, and after some very genial conversation, we discovered we have a great deal in common and have become quite good friends. Among the things we share is a common room. Neither of them was sorted into Slytherin, that would be most remarkable considering their background, and as I'm sure you've deduced by now, neither was I, also most remarkable. We are all Gryffindors.
I'm aware that this is unconventional, to say the least, but I am very happy here and I hope that you and Father can accept this. Grandfather will be the bigger challenge, I think.
Anyway, as Albus pointed out, perhaps it would be better for you to send socks in red, instead of green?
Give my love to Grandfather (but not too much of it) and give the rest to Father.
Love,
Scorpius
"There," Scorpius said, finally setting his quill down. "What do you think?"
"I think it sounds as if an eighty-year-old wrote it, not an eleven-year-old, but if that's how you normally write, then it's good," said Albus. "Are you sure you don't want the postscript about disowning, though? I thought it added a nice touch."
"It's perfect," Rose said, pointedly ignoring her cousin. "Send it out with the post tomorrow morning."
And as Scorpius fell asleep in his red-hung bed, he felt a little better about the whole thing.
