AN: A huge, whopping THANK-YOU to all my reviewers—you are very beautiful people, I wish there were more of you.
Disclaimer: you know the drill—I don't own anyone named in the series; this applies to all past and future chapters
PK—don't worry, it's in the next Chapter.
The Next Generation: the Perils of Being a Malfoy
The next morning, Scorpius got up early (as per usual) and made his way excitedly down to the Great Hall—today was the first day of classes! He couldn't wait to find out what he, Rose, and Allie were in store for, and a thousand questions were already running through his head—what were the teachers like? Would they treat him any differently because of his father? Were they believers in theory, or the practical application of magic? Would the classes be challenging? And just how smart were his housemates?
Scorpius was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he failed to notice the trio lingering near the banister of the marble staircase. Halfway down, his only warning was the rustle of cloth as three wands were drawn. Scorpius ducked—he was faster than most people realized—as two Stunners shot over his head and an unknown curse grazed his upper arm, tearing his robes and scoring a shallow cut from shoulder to elbow. Scorpius wheeled around, wand at the ready, not really knowing what he would do if it came down to dueling, but the trio had already disappeared.
"You know, I was hoping they'd exercise a little self-control," commented a man's voice behind him. Scorpius turned to see the tall, round-faced, hazel-eyed professor who had taken such an interest in Allie's Sorting the night before—Professor Longbottom.
"Your reflexes are impressive, though," the professor continued. "Then again, I've heard you've had plenty of practice. Ever consider joining Dueling Club?"
Scorpius got to his feet and hastily stowed his wand away. "Er, no professor, I was going to see what my classes were like before I joined any clubs. And then there's Quidditch, of course, I want to try out next year."
Professor Longbottom chuckled. "Ah, yes, Quidditch…and your father was Seeker for his House team, so of course you'd want to try out."
Scorpius brushed his white-blond hair out of his eyes, wondering how to convey his next thought in the most respectful terms possible. "With all due respect, sir, I'd want to try out even if Father hated flying."
Professor Longbottom gave Scorpius a long look. "I see. I apologize for the assumption." Seeing the cut on Scorpius's arm, Longbottom took out his wand and muttered, "Episkey." The gash turned icy and healed itself. Another wave of the professor's wand, and Scorpius's sleeve was whole and clean. "I look forward to having you in my class, Mr. Malfoy. And don't worry about your attackers—I have their number."
"Um, actually, Professor," Scorpius began, "I would appreciate if you didn't tell anyone about that."
Professor Longbottom's eyes grew round; his eyebrows were lost as they traveled upward beneath his bangs. "Mr. Malfoy, the behavior those three exhibited is not tolerated at Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonagall must be informed."
"Professor, please—they'll stop once they figure out it doesn't bother me."
"Or they'll continue because they know you'll never rat them out."
Scorpius sighed exasperatedly. "Does the Headmistress really have to know?"
Professor Longbottom's face was a study—Scorpius couldn't discern what he was thinking. "Professor McGonagall will be informed," he repeated, "but I'll try my best to talk her down from too severe a punishment, if that's any better. You must understand, Mr. Malfoy, that it is my duty as a Professor to ensure the safety and wellbeing of my students. Three-against-one-dueling on the marble staircase does not ensure your safety and wellbeing."
Scorpius's face fell slightly. "I understand, Professor." Longbottom clapped Scorpius on the shoulder and walked outside toward the greenhouses.
"Scorpius?" Rose and Allie appeared at the head of the marble staircase. "Was that Neville—er, I mean, Professor Longbottom?"
"Yeah," Scorpius said. He hesitated, then added, "We were just talking. He wanted to know if I'd be going out for Quidditch. Nice bloke."
Allie flashed him a grateful smile and led the way into the Great Hall. This early, only a few students were out of bed—indeed, as soon as they assumed their seats at the Ravenclaw table, Rose propped her head on her arms and began to snore lightly. Allie giggled and tickled her friend's ear with a quill. Rose stirred slightly and turned her head. Allie stuck the quill up Rose's nose. Rose snorted and jerked awake, swearing loudly. Scorpius, sitting across from them, was already doubled up with laughter. Rose glared at her two friends. "This is the problem with friends," she complained as the latecomers swarmed the House tables. "After a while, they feel comfortable enough to harass you without fear of getting jinxed into oblivion."
"As if you can perform a proper jinx yet," Allie retorted brightly. "Honestly Rose, making the jinx-you-into-oblivion threat on our first day? Bit hasty, don't you think?" Rose's retort was lost in the flurry of hundreds of wings as the mail owls swooped onto the students. Orion, Scorpius's eagle owl, landed exactly where a pitcher of pumpkin juice had stood moments before—some older students had wisely removed any objects in danger of being knocked over or perched upon. Allie's barn owl and Rose's pygmy owl joined them, hooting and clamoring for attention.
For Scorpius, Orion bore two letters and a small package—one letter from his parents and grandmother, expressing their pride at him becoming a Ravenclaw; the package contained eagle-shaped toffees made fresh by his mother. The second letter, however, was from Scorpius's grandfather, stating Lucius's disappointment that Scorpius wasn't Sorted into Slytherin, and a hope that Scorpius might still make a nice, pureblooded marriage one day. Scorpius promptly tore up the letter from Lucius and shared the toffees with everyone within reach. Finally, as Scorpius was finishing his third helping of scrambled eggs, Professor Flitwick came around with their timetables.
"One of each class and double Herbology with the Slytherins," Rose observed.
"Analysis?" Allie inquired, flipping idly through the Quibbler.
"Herbology: excellent," Scorpius said. "Slytherins: bleh."
"Careful, Zabini, no need to be so harsh!" Professor Longbottom scolded that afternoon. Hayden Zabini made a face and resumed repotting her Crooning Chrysanthemums, trying not to tear their delicate roots as they attempted to wrap themselves lovingly around the girl's wrist and arm. "Now, if you can manage it, who can tell me the distinguishing properties of Crooning Chrysanthemums? Ms. Weasley?"
Rose lowered her hand, the bulbs still clinging to her fingers swinging wildly. "Crooning Chrysanthemums are the key ingredient in most love potions, including Amorentia," she panted, struggling with the persistent plants. "As they mature, the color of their petals change from white to pink to red to lilac, corresponding with the different colors of roses a person can give to the person they fancy, or whatever. As the plant matures, its potency is magnified—still, a lilac Chrysanthemum is incredibly rare, only five have been found in the last century." She finally removed the last of the Chrysanthemum roots and shoved them unceremoniously into a clay pot, where Scorpius quickly buried them under a heap of fertilizer.
"Right, take another ten points for Ravenclaw," Professor Longbottom was saying amusedly. The Slytherins glared and muttered darkly—between all of Rose and Scorpius's right answers, Ravenclaw had gained about a hundred points over the course of the day. In fact, Rose and Scorpius were currently engaged in a kind of perverse competition, both of them vying to be the top student without actually admitting it.
Professor Longbottom glanced at the clock behind him and announced, "All right, everyone, finish up your trays, it's time to pack up!" The first years let out grateful moans as they brushed off their hands and retrieved their bags from the corners of the room. As one, they trooped out of the greenhouses and back to the castle, the Ravenclaws leaving the Slytherins at the entrance hall as they trudged down to the dungeons for Potions.
Scorpius had to admit, he was most intrigued by what attractions this class held—his father had told him numerous tales of the ambitious, aging Professor Slughorn, and Scorpius was itching to see for himself if all the stories were true. He was almost too late—the Ravenclaws had barely reached the bottom of the winding steps when the door flew open and the waiting Hufflepuffs filed in before them.
Professor Slughorn exactly like Draco had described him—vast, mustached, and wearing emerald green robes and a crimson velvet smoking jacket. For the first day, he wheezed, they would begin with something simple—a Sleeping Draft. Scorpius found it simple enough; there was something calming in all the measuring and following directions, and he was pleased to find that at the end of the period, his potion was the precise creamy color and smooth, light texture described as the desired result. In fact, things didn't really get terribly interesting until Professor Slughorn came around at the end of the lesson to inspect everyone's work. Sometimes he passed by with a simple nod or grimace—sometimes he lingered at a certain cauldron and chatted animatedly with the student behind it.
"Oho, you're Rose Weasley, then? Ron and Hermione Weasley's oldest?" he inquired of Rose.
"Er, yes, sir," she replied, equally bemused and resigned.
"I see you have your mother's brains," Slughorn continued with a satisfied air, examining her potion (which Scorpius noted was just a little too thick). "Where is she working now?"
"At the Ministry, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She's also an advisor for the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. And Dad's an Auror with Uncle Harry."
"Ah, yes, dear old Harry, haven't seen him in a while," Slughorn gushed delightedly. "Do you see a lot of him, then?"
"Yes, sir," Rose said wearily. "Every summer and holiday. He and my dad are best mates, you know."
"Of course, of course," Slughorn replied, moving on to Allie. "And you're Neville and Luna Longbottom's daughter, I can see the resemblance. Your parents were quite the assets in the Battle of Hogwarts, my dear—your father even destroyed You-Know-Who's last Horcrux, how can anyone forget that? Pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword out of the Sorting Hat, of all things…but I can see you inherited your brains from your mother, she always was a hand at Potions."
"Really? She never mentioned it. She always told me she enjoyed Divination and Defense Against the Dark Arts." It seemed that Allie had also inherited her mother's quirk for voicing uncomfortable truths.
"Ah," Slughorn said, rather weakly, before moving on to Scorpius's potion. "Mm, now here's a splendid Sleeping Draft, best I've seen yet! I—oh," he trailed off lamely, realizing it was Draco Malfoy's son he was praising. Scorpius could feel his face start to flush and looked at the floor; Slughorn was known for his aversion of being friendly towards Death Eater families. The large man made a move to leave their table.
"You know, Professor, Scorpius's grandmother saved Uncle Harry's life during the Battle of Hogwarts," he heard Rose say, loudly and clearly. "Uncle Harry told me if it wasn't for Narcissa Malfoy, he probably wouldn't've lived to take down Voldemort." Rose glared at those who squeaked or shuddered at the use of You-Know-Who's name.
"Ah, yes, quite right, Ms. Weasley," Slughorn said a little nervously. "Erm—twenty points to Ravenclaw for your really superb potion, Mr. Malfoy." The professor turned and bustled away to the Hufflepuffs.
"You didn't have to do that," Scorpius muttered, pink spots of color still warming his pale face.
"Of course I did," Rose replied. "I couldn't let him pass over you like that, when you made the best potion in here."
Scorpius snorted. "He actually behaved worse that Chang and Bones. They at least gave me a chance once they knew I was interested in the class."
"That's because Professor Chang and Professor Bones have common sense," Allie commented idly. "Professor Slughorn has none."
Rose and Scorpius contained their laughter, but just barely.
All in all, not a bad first day, Scorpius thought as he climbed into his four-poster in Ravenclaw Tower. It's good to have some real friends. He fell asleep with a smile on his pale face, somehow softening his pointed chin and sharp features. Had anyone been awake to see him, they would have said he didn't look that much like his father after all.
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