Yes, I'm taking forever to add Lily. I'm really trying to get a lot of background in here for the series I'm planning for this. Also, I might have to change the summary, so heads up.
There is an important author's note at the end.
The class, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw (All of Slytherin first years, excluding Albus, developed purple boils. Coincidentally, they had insulted Gryffindor house earlier that day), filed outside. Flying lessons. Something Scorpius hated missing out on. Just watching all the other kids, faces in grins or eyes focused on some far-off object, or screaming in fear and exhilaration.
And he'd sit on the ground and tamp down jealousy. He wasn't allowed on the brooms. Apparently it required verbal commands. Even the good fliers and the Quidditch teams had to at least whisper commands to get off the ground. And besides. As Instructor Hannah Longbottom told him kindly, she "Wasn't very comfortable having a student unable to signal distress in the air."
He dragged himself outside, spotting McCoy signing small things to herself. Watching them, he was surprised at her language. He didn't some of those were real words!
Watching his fellow first years lining up, he stood to the side, McCoy standing next to him. She faced him.
Hi.
Hi, he signed back.
This sucks.
He only nodded in reply.
The class waited with baited breath for Hannah. Instead, a gray-haired woman stepped onto the grounds. Her yellow eyes traced the children as she finished fastening on heavy leather arm guards and gloves. Her gaze reminded Scorpius of the hawk he saw an Auror use as a post bird once, and he looked at the ground.
"Good morning, class! I am Rolanda Hooch. As Hannah Longbottom is sick this week, I've been asked to take time out of my valuable retirement to teach you all. So, let's call it a review today. Mount up!"
The air instantly filled with the shouts of "UP!"
A pair of leather boots stood in front of him. "Well? Malfoy?"
He looked up in surprise.
"You two must be the special students. Well. Get a broom."
Scorpius only stared in shock.
Rolanda stared in return. "Oh don't tell me-You haven't done a damn thing, have you? They all thought you were both-"
They nodded to cut her off.
Rolanda stalked past, into the building. When she returned a moment later, she was carrying three brooms, all of which were in better shape and had a touch more flash than the Hogwarts brooms.
"Hey, do we get those?" A girl rolled on her broom before their temporary instructor.
"No. Stay upright!"
She tossed a broom to the two stunned children and held the third. "Well? Pick them up!"
Scorpius and McCoy scrambled to obey. He glanced at her translator, where the words finished appearing. Hooch's body language has said more than that scrap of parchment.
Around them, the students tried to watch and fly at the same time.
"What I want you to do-put them down next to you, for one. Good. Now." She held McCoy's hand over the broom, then stepped in front of them, speaking quietly. "Concentrate. Think of what you want the broom to do, then direct that thought out."
Scorpius closed his eyes and thought the word Up. Nothing happened.
Well, that was to be expected, right? Nothing worked on the first try. He took a deep breath, then thought again, adding a touch of force. Nope.
Direct the thought out...
He imagined the word as a blue pool of water, imagining it trailing down through his arm and splashing down onto the handle of the broomstick.
Something solid slapped into his palm.
In surprise, thinking something had been dropped, he opened his eyes.
Two broomsticks, held tight in child grips, floating off the ground.
He looked at McCoy. She had a shocked and yet pleased expression, much like his own.
Hooch waved a hand.
"Now mount up!"
He threw his leg over the length of wood, kicking off the ground like he'd seen the other students do. He rose.
"Right! Let's see you all fly through those hoops over there!" Hooch called, voice rising high above the wind. Her arm pointed to a set of floating hoops, set in random places across the sky and grounds.
The class swooped in to obey, or at least tried.
She faced them again. Signaling with a large handwave to follow her, their instructor took off. Scorpius and McCoy followed.
Concentrating on the wide turns she was starting with, Scorpius knew, even if he never took to the air again, he would never forget this moment. The wind rushing past him, whipping his hair in his eyes and numbing his skin, the sky above, the horizon of rolling hills, and nothing stopping him.
Instructor Hooch led them through a series of sharp turns, and here Scorpius was glad of the ground-time he'd had. He'd been able to see others mistakes and imagine what could have been done better. That thinking kept him upright as he struggled to turn and bank.
Then she whirled around, pointing at the series of hoops the other children struggled with. Hannah had mostly set them loose, calling tips to students in need. Hooch required them to test themselves. The idea of beating all of them didn't need to cross his mind; it had a front row seat.
He zoomed through. Obviously, he didn't make all of them, but he made it through half the hoops in order, and that was better than most of them.
The one who beat everyone, however, was Albus. The young Potter had been raised in a family so Quidditch obsessed, he'd probably been able to fly before he could walk. (Probably. James' memory had been sketchy on that detail) He zipped gracefully through the course, never missing one.
At the end, he rolled, righted, turned in several circles and came to a stop right next to Scorpius. Cue Potter grin. "That was fun!"
Clapping, a slow rhythm, came from their right. "Good show, Mister Potter. You're as good as your father! Better, I might say."
Albus blushed, looking at Instructor Hooch. "I...Um...I-I-I had an unfair advantage. Mum took me for flights when I was little."
"Getting taken for a flight doesn't mean anythin', Potter!" a girl yelled. "It's the difference between riding in a car and driving!"
The exact meaning went over Scorpius's head, but the meaning was sound. He gave Albus an agreeing look.
Hooch apparently also agreed. Though her sharp eyes lingered on the green of his robe, she told the dark-haired boy, "You'd make a valuable addition to any team."
Scorpius watched Albus flush to a very famous shade of blush-Weasley. His face turned a shade of purple, making freckles no one knew he had stand out strong.
'Distraction... Distraction...' Scorpius glanced around, then slid his hand into his pocket.
What he pulled out was a small fragile statue of a snake made of glass or crystal. His grandfather had given it to him. He could afford to lose it.
He waved one hand, catching McCoy's attention, and flashed a few words. She grinned and began to try a few spins and tricks, before suddenly rushing forward, losing control and smashing straight into Scorpius. The statue fell from his grip.
"It's been in the family for six generations. Don't you dare break or lose it."
Suddenly regretting the decision, he dove after the statue. Albus, realizing what he'd just been saved from, dove too. Scorpius let the better flier overtake him, though he kept his descent.
The image of an angry and disapproving Lucius Malfoy flew into his mind, he let out a silent cry and lost all pretense of braking. He dropped, hand closing over the item inches below the ground. He rolled, trying to slow himself. He hit the ground, tumbled, but sat up and waved to the wide-eyed class.
Hooch landed, staring down at him as she crossed leather-covered arms. "I'd give you detention, Malfoy, but Minerva might laugh herself sick. If you please, don't be stupid again." She paused, "If you pull your shoulders in, you'd increase your fall-speed."
Then she marched away.
"Two hundred feet, you survived and no detention?"
Scorpius looked over at Fred. "Scoreboard, you're bloody brilliant!"
"He's bloody insane," Albus countered. "That could have killed him." He dismounted. "I get to write Da home about it!"
"No, I do! I never get to write Uncle Potter!"
Scorpius got up on unsteady legs, picked up his broomstick and looking it over. It looked fine, so he set it against the wall and sat down again.
"So what was that over again?"
Grinning ashamedly, he held out the statue. Fred gave it a glance-over. "Family heirloom?"
He nodded.
"Oh. Can't blame you. I got one of those."
Albus raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Me!"
A small pack of girls giggled nervously.
Scorpius and Albus managed an eyeroll at the exact same time.
This caused them to spot the second group of girls staring at Albus.
Staring.
Doe-eyed.
At Albus.
One, a first-year like most of the little gathering, shoved her way to the front and marched right up to the terrified Potter. Allie Mayfield, Ravenclaw.
"You're amazing," she said breathlessly.
Albus ran for his eleven-year-old life.
Why?
For the reason Scorpius followed. Girls were scary.
~•~
The next day, he got the letter he'd been fearing for more than a week. A terrifying, dark thing, something worse than any wide-eyed girl.
A reply from his mother.
He let Lyra, the owl, nick the rest of his breakfast before flying off. The elderly owl always seemed to be hungry whenever he saw her, so he stopped trying.
Goodbye, toast...
Scorpius trembled slightly as he looked at the tightly rolled scroll, turning it over in his hands. It was waved and distorted, the sign of tears.
Oh no...
He shoved it in his bag and tensed every muscle in his body. He'd save it. Read it during Astronomy. Yes, that was a good idea. Late nights and bad news. At least he'd have a nice view.
The day blurred from there. He remembered distinctly the moment when all the trees in the courtyard decided they were Whomping Willows with a personal grudge, mostly because he broke his arm again and sprained his ankle but wasn't alone. James had muttered angrily about someone out-Maraudering him in the line for the infirmary. It did not bode well.
It was when he was sitting in the Great Hall at dinner that he finally realized that time had ganged up on him. He barely remembered getting here, he had a series of essays in his bag he would swear he didn't write but were in his handwriting, Splash the Ferret had escaped to sit on his things again and he was eating.
It was frankly terrifying.
"And... You okay, Score?"
Scorpius shook his head.
"So what do you think of my idea?"
He looked at James. The third-year looked back at him with worried brown eyes.
"You remember my idea, right?"
Rather than lie (He might miss out on something grand), he shook his head.
"Oh. You okay? Hit your head in the courtyard thing? Or what?"
He shrugged.
"Of course, Christmas Holiday is really close. You going home?"
He started to nod, then shrugged.
If Scorpius's terrified mind was right, he might not ever go home.
What if at this moment they'd called up an orphanage and were going to take him there when he got back? What if they'd written to McGonagall and told her they never wanted his disgraceful name to get on the train at all? What if...
Of course, his family wouldn't "call" an orphanage, per say, but one got the point.
Scorpius looked at the handle of his backpack, where there was a phone number to a squib family member who got to stay on the tree in exchange for being his "I'm lost!" contact number. He'd met her all of once.
Maybe he could stay with her. Then he...
He could do nothing. It wouldn't matter, would it?
"I am! It's my da' turn to organize our Christmas Quidditch game. All the extended families, together for two weeks to play! Only one team can win!"
Scorpius leaned his head on his hand, tapping his fingers.
"Er... Sorry. Well anyway, this year Albus gets to play, so he'll come back either moping or cheery."
More tapping.
Apparently James didn't get the hint, continuing to talk.
"See, for the first games every family is their own team. Luna Scamander, her husband Rolf, Teddy Lupin, Xenophilius, they all join our team. For an old man, Lovegood is a good Beater, you know. So that's how we decide which family is the best that year. Then there's individual competitions, that's how we make two teams of our best, then they beat each other up. Then our captains form into teams and that game always starts on midnight of New Years."
"And the Ron Weasley division will be beat you all."
James grinned at Rose. "No 'e won't. You're all going to lose."
"To the Weasley-Johnsons."
"Fred..."
Scorpius rolled his eyes at the star-covered ceiling.
"You know that we have Albus this year... The Potters will get you back for that humiliating defeat last year."
A few wisps of cloud drifted through the gaze of the spelled ceiling. Frowning, he looked down at Splash, who turned onto her back, a strange animal smile on her face.
To escape the current family rivalry, he picked her up. She yawned, nipped at his fingers with baby teeth. Then she scurried onto his shoulder. He stood and inched over to the Slytherin table.
Instant eye attraction. He gritted his teeth and walked over to where Albus was discussing a class with another first-year.
"Hey, you found Splash."
He pulled the almost-albino off his shoulder (She clung, enjoying her perch) and dropped into the other boy's arms.
Then he headed right back to his spot.
"That ferret has a thing for your backpack."
Scorpius shrugged. James was probably imaging some weird joke.
Rose Weasley was staring at him.
"Why do you talk to him?" she asked.
"Hm? What do you mean, Rosie-Posy?"
"Don't. Call me that. And what I mean is, my dad and Uncle Harry are gonna kill you when they find out. It's okay to help him on the train but he doesn't need to be around you all the time."
James was giving Rose an intense stare. The resemblance to Harry Potter jumped out to Scorpius' eyes.
"Rose Weasley. What the hell are you talking about?"
She wilted now, fiddling with a napkin as dessert finally chose to appear. "I mean, um... He's a Malfoy."
James chose to ignore her. "Sorry you hear this, Score."
Scorpius shrugged. He was used to it. At least she kind enough to look ashamed now.
"No really. She should know better than to bad-mouth people like that. You didn't do anything."
Rose cringed, trying to slide under the table. Gryffindor House was listening in, deeply interested. Because everyone loves family drama.
Scorpius sighed, taking the chance to steal James' dessert.
Argument, round two!
"It's not bad-mouthing if it's true!"
"Why yes, he's a Malfoy. Glad you can learn names now. What's your point?"
"They're all treacherous snakes! He'll use what you've said against you!"
"And do what? It's not like he's a thief or anything."
Scorpius bit his lip, covering his grin.
"James, just this once can I say that you should have looked before speaking?"
"Wh-Oh come on!"
The table burst into laughter against its will.
Scorpius, meanwhile, ate his pudding. James stole a second from Fred, Fred took the time to do wave his wand around under the table, and Rose glowered.
James picked up his pudding a moment. Bad sign. Scorpius did the same, a little more discreetly.
The tables seemed to explode. Food expanded outward, silverware flew upward of its own accord, and strangely, a ferret swam among the mess of food, eating filling from a tart.
Scorpius and his friends sat under the table. While the third-years high-fived, Scorpius borrowed a spoonful of cream from whatever Fred was eating, ducked into the chaos as the food started to come vaguely back together, and took aim. It settled on the table (Though some of it was stuck to other students).
He couldn't repress a grin as a spoonful of cream splattered down the front of Rose's robes.
Then he ducked under the table as she caught sight and threw a treacle tart at him.
Slytherin colors and tart don't look good together. It does, however, start a good food fight.
"Oh, but now they'll never appreciate it!" Fred moaned. "The sign made of food, with the silverware eatin' it! It says 'The Marauders return!' an' everythin'!"
Scorpius raised the required left eyebrow.
"The Marauders was the name that James' Grandpa Namesake had for his group of troublemakers. We found that out at the end of last year, but never got to do an announcement prank, and I worked so hard on-Hold on a tick, the fight's slowing down." Fred peered around, then his head and arm disappeared as he threw something.
"Anyway... Worked so hard on this one to get it right! Every Hogsmead weekend spent on setup!"
Scorpius shrugged, then caught a very low-aimed slice of cake. Relatively untouched, it had apparently come from the Hufflepuff table.
"Nice catch!"
A syrup-covered Albus slid under the table with them. "It's madness out there!" He shook his head, then licked some of the syrup off his hair. "Delicious madness. Someone threw an entire pie at me, one I'd tried to get a slice the entire evening." He yanked the dish in after himself.
"Great. Take a slice, the rest is defense ammo."
He blinked at his elder brother as he gulped an overly large mouthful. "Why?"
"What, you think we'll let this end while there's still food to be thrown? No, I won't let it rest until they're scraping rice pudding and jelly off the ceiling a hundred years from now!"
"Nobody here can throw that high, James Sirius Potter." Rose sat under the table and took a slice of pie, munching slowly. "And Malfoy, I'm so busting you for that." She noticed the various pieces of food stuck to her clothes, wiping off a mixture of clotted cream and jelly onto her hand.
Scorpius made a "Who, me?" motion, spreading his clean hand over his chest, eyes wide.
"Yes, you!" She threw the handful at him. He caught it using the remains of his cake slice. Then he ate it.
"Go back to fighting Rose. Have a good tale to tell Hugo!"
She disappeared, taking another slice of pie.
"Dere's jelly in your 'air, Sorpius," Albus said through another huge mouthful.
He was almost scared to wipe it away, but did so.
"...Now part of your hair's pink!" Fred burst into laughter, a sound barely audible through the noise.
"SETTLE DOWN!"
The voice of Headmistress McGonagall rang over the noise. Splash scurried over to her owner, white-and-gray fur a uniform cream.
"Ew... Splash..."
What followed was a half-hour lecture, a school-wide week of detention and a strange inability to find out who caused the mess.
There was pudding in McGonagall's hair. And both Instructor Hooch and Professor Sinstra were smirking. Soaked in wine.
Scorpius didn't even want to know.
"All students are to change and report to bed! Except for..." She looked at something from her podium. "First years-Gryffindor and Slytherin. You have astronomy. I would have canceled it because of tonight's weather, but it seems you all do not have the behavior skills to be allowed such a thing! Now off!" She clapped her hands and made shooing motions.
Albus, who had somehow found himself seated at Gryffindor holding a squirming ferret, finally lost control of her. She slipped from his hands and ran the length of the table.
Headmistress McGonagall aimed a piercing gaze at the young Potter. Scorpius winced in sympathy.
"Albus Severus Potter! Please explain what that animal is doing in the Great Hall!"
"Erm..." he squirmed uncomfortably next to Scorpius. "I don't know, Headmistress. She follows me, sometimes, or gets into peoples bags. Can't keep her caged."
Her eyes stayed narrowed, but nodded. The students fled as one.
In the hall, they lingered.
"Okay, Scoreboard. You win that one. That prank was way better than mine. Look these guys!" Fred spread his arms.
Students of all houses and years were coated liberally in the entirety of the dessert course. Puddings, cake, tart, three types of juice, syrup, cream, jelly, more cream and even something that looked a bit like caramel cooling on the sleeves of a Hufflepuff's robes.
"Now we have a fourth Marauder, we can officially come up with nicknames! Well, see you, Score. Have fun with Professor Wine-Soaked.
Scorpius grinned and joined the group of first-years heading to the Astronomy Tower. They were in high enough spirits that nobody cared who they talked or walked next to.
"I still can't believe this! Cheesecake all over my robes!" a girl lamented. Then giggled. "Least I got her back. The look on her face!" She turned to Scorpius. "You're relatively clean. How'd you do that?"
Rose Weasley finished running a cleaning charm over her cousins. "Well it wasn't me. He was hiding under the table with Albus, James and Fred."
"So you threw that pie at me! I hate you!" She faked a pout, then grinned. "Part of your hair is pink, did you know that?"
He shrugged, his answer to everything.
"And there's icing on your robes and cream right here." She pointed to a spot on her neck.
He wiped his neck and looked at the whipped cream on the back of his hand, then licked it off.
Rose sighed. "I bet my cousin Lil starts one on her first day. Third year, I suggest you bring a raincoat to First Day feast. And a good shield, shielding charms only block magic."
"I'll use my own little sister. She won't mind, she loves food!"
Rose and the Slytherin girl talked, Scorpius standing between them and completely ignored.
"Hold my ferret?"
Scorpius started. Splash hooked onto his shoulder. Still covered in cream, a trail of dairy was left all up Scorpius's sleeve.
"Oh... Come on, Albus! Can't you do a cleaning charm?"
He shrugged, grinning in embarrassment. "Kind of, but she'd also turn blue and green."
Rose sighed at her cousin, then did the job for her cousin, removing the cream from Scorpius's sleeve in the process.
Splash apparently didn't like this, trying to bite the length of wood flashing in her face.
And so was the trip to the Astronomy Tower.
It was freezing on the open-air deck. The spells preventing the telescope lenses from being ruined only kept the air dry and only a few degrees shy of true freezing. Scorpius carefully leaned on the metal railing and looked out.
There was a great view of the lake ('Lake, loch, what's the difference?'), reflecting the stars as it wandered to blend with the black shape of great rolling hills surrounding it. The grounds spread out below as a dark shape cut with the glow of lit rooms, the Forbidden Forest a mass of whispering black.
"Well, children. Glad to see you showed up."
Professor Sinstra finished a drying charm on her clothes, but the smell of the wine she had been doused in lingered.
"I'm sure you would all rather be in your beds after that adventure."
A few nods. Scorpius looked at the gray and silver shapes of clouds, highlighted by moonlight. There were no sounds tonight. The animals seemed to have disappeared; not even Hagrid's large dog baying.
"The weather would have cut short class tonight in any case." The dark-skinned woman grinned, taking in her class. "For tonight's entertainment-I know it was Gryffindor that started it, don't argue. And Slytherin wouldn't let it quit-I think some reward should be offered. Let's go to a lower level. I'll tell stories."
A few short minutes later, robes cleaned and seated on the pillowed floor of the Constellation Room, they listened.
"I think we all know the muggle myth, that wizards carry staves, am I right?"
Nods.
"Well, once upon a time, we did. You see..."
The letter sat in Scorpius's bag, forgotten.
Shaky handwriting. Tear-stained paper.
Dear Scorpius,
No, it's okay that you're in Gryffindor. It really il. When you come home we'll tell Draco and Lucius. It'll be okay. I've delayed the decorating, and I can stop worry about what patterns look best [scratched out] in green/silver.
-We- -You shouldn't wo- I won't disown you. -Your-
-lov-
From,
Mother
Those dashes are supposed to be crossing out. FF doesn't allow strikethroughs.
IMPORTANT
Okay guys. On the last chapter, there is all of one review, with a second one in a PM from another reader. I am disappointed, and frankly nervous. I depend on reviews, okay? They are your guyes way of telling what you do and don't like, so when I see something like 500 hits and only one review, I panic and wonder what I'm doing so wrong that you guys don't find it worthy to review. I could have had a Christmas chapter up in time for actual Christmas but I spent most of my time worrying instead, and only managed this filler.
If you want me to continue, review. If not, feel free to keep ignoring me.