The events in the Great Hall had quickly spread amongst teachers and students alike. Even those who had been busy during the confrontation and even those who wanted nothing to do with gossip were soon made aware of it.
The Potters' fight wasn't without consequence. The atmosphere within Hogwarts was further repressed, the air cold and the students solemn. It wasn't that all the cheer had died; friends still laughed and teased, siblings still bickered and rivals still competed. However whenever the two brothers crossed path, everyone started walking on ice, holding onto their breath as if the softest of winds would unleash hydras and dragons on the school.
Rose Weasley was the first to recover. Instead of hanging out with Albus, she hung out with Fred but even that was just a small change in her everyday life. With the current rules, there wasn't much time to spend with other Houses. She had moped for a while but it didn't take two days for the young red head to resume her annoying soliloquies in class. Besides, she had never truly stopped biting at Scorpius's arguments at every opportunity and the latter considered that as proof that she wasn't as fragile as her family seemed to think.
James and Fred had become oddly protective of the girl. Whenever James and Albus did actually yell at each other instead of their usual silent war, Rose was always one of the first points James made.
It didn't help that the pranks on the Slytherin House multiplied exponentially.
But all that had nothing to do with Scorpius.
Today, the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins were going to learn their first spell. It was their first time performing voluntary magic as the laws for Underage magic were quite strict in England and none of them could hide how giddy they were about it. Scorpius had dreamt of casting spells before he had even learnt to walk. Some students were a bit scared but Scorpius had no reason to be. He was quite smart and he had grown up surrounded magic.
Also, rumours said Rose had managed on her first try earlier that morning, lifting four tables in the air instead of her feather.
"Quills and wands out." Professor Patil instructed, raising her own as an example.
The students didn't need to be told twice. Scorpius took out the wand he had bought a few weeks before, having already memorised its every ring and indentation. It was ten inches long and of a dull dark brown wood. Between its hilt and its tip, a beige owl was spreading its wings, giving it the appearance of a small sword. Scorpius had always wondered why his wand had such a peculiar shape. It was well known that wands chose their owners by now.
The shop was in a whole different world, Scorpius thought as he stepped in. He had barely made it past the threshold when the buzzing and growling of the crowd came to an abrupt stop and the harsh sun was replaced by fresh light and soft particles of dust. The door closed behind him with the slightest chime of a bell and Scorpius immediately revelled in the scent of old parchment and antique wood.
He carefully stepped forwards, his head constantly turning around, trying to catch every detail of the shop. The floor under his feet creaked as he craned his neck to see the ceiling. Ollivander's wasn't just a shop; it was a relic.
If it hadn't been so strange, Scorpius would have closed his eyes and pretended time was coming to a stop. He felt at peace in the old shop, surrounded by History, by the memories of nervous first years getting their first wands. This place was pure, innocent; like unicorn forests or merman lakes, it was unmarred by human greed and corruption. It was where great friendships between wizards and wands were forged, where masterpieces of nature and magic were eagerly waiting to leave the nest and wander into the world.
Curious glassware and contraptions on the shelves piqued Scorpius's interest. He had never seen wands being made before and he could only let his imagination guess what role each of them played in the craft. They were a bit dusty, having not been used in a while, but that only made them so much more interesting. Objects that had lived through time always had exciting stories. It was a pity they couldn't talk.
"Ahem."
Scorpius startled and swivelled around suddenly. A middle aged man was at the counter, his head resting on his hand and his elbow propped in front of him. He had strong arms, a strong jaw and broad shoulders, marks of the accomplished blacksmith he was without doubt. The man, Ollivander's apprentice, had a small smirk tugging at his lips as his blue eyes remained focused on Scorpius.
How long had he been there? How long had Scorpius been day dreaming this time?
"Sorry," Scorpius apologised politely with a slight bow, "I hadn't noticed you."
"Your friend told us you were coming." The man said, "Something you apparently told him to do."
Scorpius stiffened. "I am aware of Mr. Ollivanders' History with my family," he said, "and while it is not in my habit to bend to accommodate for other's feelings, I have far too much respect for the man to bring back painful reminders of what my father and grandparents have put him through."
Scorpius glanced back at the windows of the shop where he could see Ethan and the Thompsons waiting for him. Robin and Ethan had gone first to get their wands and they were both examining their new acquisition, leaning back on the shop's windows. Scorpius had almost expected the view to be blank or at least, devoid of people; but no. Diagon Alley was bursting with life outside, people crowding and colours saturating the path.
"Master appreciates the sentiment," the man smiled, straightening himself, "but please do not be so polite with me. If anything, your warning shows I can't let prejudice cloud my judgement. So, need a wand?"
"Er… Yes?" Scorpius replied.
"Right," the man said, handing him a piece of paper. "Fill this in," he instructed.
"'What kind of seductress are you?'" Scorpius read, before frowning, "This is a quiz from an old Witch Weekly."
"I'm afraid I do not have Master's skills in reading people," the man shrugged, "and this will be quicker than randomly trying wands. As fun as that sounds, I do not fancy putting them all back into their respective shoe bo - ahem, their respective cases afterwards."
Scorpius gave him one last skeptical look before grabbing the quill he was presented with.
Using the counter as a table, Scorpius tried answering the questions to the best of his abilities. Some of them baffled him completely (Which charms do you use during your time of the month?) but Scorpius didn't let that deter him. He managed to make sense of most of them through his extensive general knowledge and his decent latin and, much to his mortification, tried to imagine himself in those situations.
By the end, Scorpius was blushing a bit and Ollivanders' s apprentice was trying hard not to laugh.
Scorpius handed the quiz back and the man crumpled it and threw it in the trash.
"Let's see what we have for you," he decided, stretching his arms.
"You didn't even read my answers," Scorpius told him, a bit irritated, "What was that for?"
The man smiled back, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "You answered all the questions you knew with a great foundation of knowledge and a very practical approach. Those you struggled with, you analysed, even going as far as deducing the effects of spells from their incantations. As for those you had no way of answering, you got creative. Some you picked randomly, others you found most interesting, but I did notice that you tried to balance all your unsure answers so they wouldn't affect the outcome of the quiz too much. Quite ingenious, really. Aiming for Ravenclaw?"
Scorpius blinked, surprised, "Not especially. And you got all that from watching me take the quiz?"
"I also noticed that you never asked for help, not even to shed light on words you didn't know," the man added without disapproval, "Curious, don't you think?"
Scorpius didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't even considered the option of asking him.
The man disappeared in the back of the shop but his voice still carried out all the way to the front.
"You're more of a walnut guy, aren't you?" He asked even though Scorpius knew very little about different types of wood, "I'm one myself. Best wand wood, I tell you, but then again, that's what every wizard says about theirs. Not much of a Dragon Heartstring person I guess, your head's worth more than that…"
There was a bit of shuffling, a thud and a cry of pain. A small cloud of smoke emerged.
"Bloody shoe boxes!" The man swore, "Well let's see… Oh. Oho!"
The man ran out of the back, a ominous grin on his face and a brand new shoe box in hand. His eyes were sparkling with excitement and Scorpius didn't know why he was suddenly feeling very much like a ferret in front of a hungry hypogriff.
"How do you feel about helping me out, lad?" The man asked.
"I have been taught not to accept deals before hearing them." Scorpius deadpanned, taking a step back.
"Smart one," the man approved. "As you might have noticed, I'm still an apprentice. But that does not mean I haven't made a few wands myself… Or that I haven't experimented a bit with my creations."
The man let the meaning sink in.
"You want me to try one of your inventions," Scorpius deduced in awe. "You want me to try a brand new type of wand."
"Very good! This," the man said, placing the show box on the counter and revealing a beautiful, sword shaped wand, "is a ten inch wand with Unicorn hair as its core."
"What's the catch then?" Scorpius asked, not bothering hiding his curiosity.
"First, tell me this," the man asked, putting the lid back on, "why were you so amazed by the shop earlier? You're a Malfoy, surely you've seen older and greater things."
"I…" Scorpius started, trying to find an answer, "I'm not sure. It's just… beautiful? Humbling? It feels special, like being surrounded by a powerful but kind force… Merlin, this must sound ridiculous."
The man chuckled. "Believe me, it doesn't." He opened the lid again and explained, "This wand is what I call a Chimera wand. It is moulded from two woods instead of one: walnut and english oak. I don't know what I was thinking, merging those two woods - they don't get along much, you see. Never thought the wand would hold together, much less that I'd find someone to pair it with and yet here it is and here you are. Try taking it."
In his mind, Scorpius wanted nothing more than to take the curious wand. However, he found that his hand reached for it slowly, shakily, almost in fear of breaking it. The boy held his breath as the tip of his fingers touched the wood and he could feel Ollivander's apprentice doing the same.
As soon as Scorpius raised it from its box, eyes sparkling in wonder and mouth slightly gaping, a rush of wind embraced him warmly. He felt his robes flutter slightly and his hair ruffle and most of all, he felt the magic within him resonate with the wand, pulsing in deaf but powerful waves, like underwater footsteps of a giant.
"It's… Perfect." Scorpius breathed out.
"It does seem like it." The man smiled proudly, "Well that'll be seven galleons for you."
Scorpius tried reaching for the money in his right back pocket with his left hand but found himself awkwardly hugging himself. Blushing, he gently placed his new wand on the counter and got the coins out, gingerly handing them to the man.
"Mind," the man told him, "I'd appreciate it if you came back some time to tell me how the wand goes."
"Of course, Mr…" Scorpius trailed off.
"Voler. Vincent Volleur. I'm Garrick Ollivander's grand nephew and apprentice."
"Well then thank you Mr. Volleur," Scorpius said with a polite bow, "It was nice meeting you."
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Volleur grinned before fanning the air with his hand dismissively, "Off you go now. Your friends must be tired of waiting."
Scorpius nodded and walked away, wand box tucked in his arms like a baby. He had already opened the door when Volleur called him back. Scorpius turned around to see the man holding a crumpled paper in his hands.
"If you were wondering, Mr. Malfoy," the man said with a wolfish smirk, "you're quite the virgin seductress."
His trip at Ollivander's had been the first time he had had access to his magic. He had always felt it there, waiting to get out, but to touch it had been almost forbidden. It was a miracle when nothing blew around accidental magic. Now though, he was about to learn how to reign it in, how to beguile it into doing his bidding.
"It is tradition for the first spell taught to be the Levitation Charm," professor Patil told them, "I would like you all to repeat after me its incantation: Wingardium Leviosa."
The whole class did as told, some even trying to wave their wand simultaneously.
"Again. Wingardium Leviosa."
"Wingardium Leviosa," they chorused.
"That will have to do for now," she sighed, "now, I want you all to observe my wand movement. It is essential that the incantation and the flick of the wrist coincide; harmony is the main pillar of magic."
The students imitated her movement in silence and anticipation. Once professor Patil was satisfied, she demonstrated the charm with a Slytherin's quill without warning, startling the first year.
"Your turn," she declared.
And so the class suddenly sprung to life, every student excitedly reciting the charm with clumsy wand waving. Scorpius was not exception, he waved his wand carefully at his quill, speaking the incantation clearly. His quill remained immobile, much to his disappointment. Then, he closed his eyes and focused on the magic inside of him as he had done on the train. Breathing out, Scorpius pointed his wand at his quill again and, with an elegant flick of his wrist, said "Wingardium Levio-"
Before he could end the incantation, Scorpius felt magic build up in his hand and then in his wand. It was nowhere as pleasant as he had thought it would be - In fact, it felt very much like both his limb and his wand were about to explode in a rather gore and painful way. The magic was fighting him, rebelling against his command. Out of self-preservation, Scorpius never finished the spell, letting the magic in his hand slowly dissipate instead.
He let out a shaky breath.
Magic wasn't just beauty, it was dangerous as well. There was no such thing as something purely white or purely black and Scorpius was the first to know that. Only, until that very moment, he had never felt the darkness in magic. He knew of the aggressively of its wielder, but never of the energy itself. Pale, he looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed the same thing.
Around the room, all students went at it three, four, five times before the excitement became frustration. The incantations became harsh, rushed and angry and the wands started swishing in the air like sword blades instead. But none of them feared trying again, not like Scorpius did. They went at it without restraint, without care for the magic - and Scorpius knew that theirs wasn't any tamer than his.
Something was crying, but not out loud. It hadn't done that when the professor had levitated a quill. It was the way the students were doing it that was wrong.
The quills didn't even budge.
Professor Patil wasn't hiding her smug smirk.
"However easy you though spell casting was going to be," she said, "you were wrong. Even the simplest of spells demand a deep understanding of magic, as well as thorough practice and a clear mind. Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration are not for the hot-headed and impulsive unlike what most believe. They are delicate crafts and will require as much intellectual work as the other subjects. Now, try again, and remember your Magical Theory classes and everything we've done so far in Charms."
The chaotic chanting started again and Scorpius had to keep himself from staring at others in semi-horror. The air in the room was growing restless, angry, and it wasn't because of the frustrated first years.
Scorpius caught the professor looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't tried the spell again yet, and she obviously did not appreciate him slacking.
Gulping, Scorpius faced his quill once more. Professor Patil resumed going around, giving pointers to students.
"Wingardium Levio-" He clenched his teeth abruptly.
"Wing-" He tried again, but with no avail.
His magic wasn't cooperating. It was hitting a wall instead of flowing naturally. Was it the wand? Were the two woods not agreeing with each other after all? Scorpius had read up on both after his shopping trip; walnut was fickle and innovative while english oak was loyal and traditional.
The young Malfoy pressed his lips in a thin line. If the Chimera wands were a dud, he was going to have a hard time with the first term.
As soon as Scorpius raised it from its box, eyes sparkling in wonder and mouth slightly gaping, a rush of wind embraced him warmly. He felt his robes flutter slightly and his hair ruffle and most of all, he felt the magic within him resonate with the wand, pulsing in deaf but powerful waves, like underwater footsteps of a giant.
With new fire in his eyes, Scorpius relaxed his tightened grip on the wand. He recalled the rhythm of his heart, the pulse of his magic, the beat of his breaths and the tempo of the incantation all at once, synchronising them as well as he could in his mind. His wand then moved in the air gracefully.
He wasn't even trying to imitate the teacher's movement. Instead, he had followed the logical conclusion to the music he had deciphered and had naturally found an exact replica of the swish and flick gesture.
There was no grand, exaggerated movement or dramatic incantations. A whispered "Wingardium Leviosa" was all that preceded his quill fluttering in the air, inches above Scorpius's head. With his eyes transfixed on his quill, Scorpius willed it to dance around, asking the movement with his mind but guiding the feather with his wand.
A bubble of euphoria rose in his chest. He wasn't the one casting the spell; he wasn't even in control of it. Or at least, that was how he felt. Magic was the one flowing around and everywhere and all the young Gryffindor had done was let it take him along, somehow. It didn't make much sense to him either but recently, nothing really did anyway.
"Five points to Gryffindor."
Scorpius snapped out of his reverie as he noticed the whole class staring at him. His wild grin quickly returned under his control as it slid off and his eyes dismissed their childish shine. He goaded the quill back in front of him, feeling that cutting off his magic suddenly was much to barbaric.
"That, is how a successful Levitation Charm looks like," the teacher continued, "do not be alarmed if you haven't managed it yet; it usually takes a few days before you become familiar enough with your wand. Take the last fifteen minutes to practice."
"How d'you do it?" Bridget asked from the seat in front of him. Her seat-mate, Tatiana, was much more subtile about her curiosity but Scorpius didn't miss how her ear twitched and her gaze flickered to him.
"Match the final flick of your wand with the last syllable of the incantation," Scorpius instructed, trying to find a better was of explaining than just saying 'feel the magic' or some other shady prophetic advice of the sort. "Slow down when you get to long vowels but amplify the width of your movements all the same. Then-"
Scorpius stopped in his tracks as he noticed a glint of gold from the corner of his eyes. Actually, there were a lot of glints of gold, all heading towards his neighbour like stars swallowed by a black hole.
"Rosier," Scorpius sighed, "Did you bet on me a-gain?"
"I'll stop if you stop your pathetic word games," Ethan suggested with a shrug. He tried the spell monotonously though applying Scorpius's advice as well. His quill shivered.
"No need to go that far," Scorpius replied, "but shouldn't I at least get part of your gains? I might as well be your part-ner with all the galleons I get you. That's some gall you own."
"I think it makes up for enduring you all this time," Bridget added conversationally, taking a break from her unsuccessful attempts.
"Someone understands," Ethan smirked.
"What is this?" Scorpius asked irritably, "Gang up on Scorpius Malfoy day?"
"Bridget Flore," Bridget introduced herself, holding out her hand and completely ignoring Scorpius, "I've seen you sit next to bro quite a lot but I don't think we've ever talked."
"Ethan Rosier," Ethan returned politely, shaking the girl's hand after pushing Scorpius aside to reach it, "how did you address Malfoy?"
"Bro." Bridget obliged, "We're House siblings."
"Siblings." Ethan repeated, raising an eyebrow at Scorpius. The young Malfoy could feel the weight of his friend's inquisitive gaze. Ethan wasn't convinced.
"It's a recent tradition in Gryffindor," Bridget explained, misunderstanding his skepticism. She started telling him all about the family system in Gryffindor, unaware of how heavily Scorpius was being scrutinised by his friend. The whole time, the Slytherin's gaze never left him and it only made it more painful that he knew very well why.
Scorpius didn't take family lightly.
"So you're…" Ethan confirmed slowly, "his sister?"
"Basically," Bridget smiled, "why?"
"And you're…" Ethan continued, talking to Scorpius this time, "alright with this?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Scorpius challenged, daring his friend to say another word.
With another shrug, Ethan let the matter go. Threatening to have a whole fit about something was always the easiest way to get the young Rosier to back off. Nothing was worth getting excited over for Ethan, not even his need to know how people worked.
Ethan wasn't a very social boy, but he was a Slytherin through and through. Reading people and anticipating their actions was a question of survival in his mind and the boy had always been most uncomfortable around unpredictable crowds. He didn't like when someone acted differently than his image of them. Lack of accuracy in his bets meant lack of understanding of someone's psyche. It was most unnerving actually for Scorpius to know that Ethan was always studying him as he was studying others.
Now Ethan was usually right, in fact, Scorpius couldn't recall the last time he hadn't been. And to be quite frank, he knew that Ethan wasn't entirely wrong either. Scorpius was fixated on family and he even inferred that that was why he was so angry at James Potter. Perhaps Ethan even saw as far as to notice Scorpius's disgust for pretence.
But Scorpius was honestly fine with Bridget, Louis and Trisha. None of them actually believed they were family nor were they trying to replace his real relatives.
Bridget looked between the two boys confused before resuming her work.
It was after Charms that Bridget grabbed Scorpius's arm again. Dragging him away from the other groups of students heading for lunch. She was uncouth for a girl but as she was only eleven and muggleborn, Scorpius decided to humour her.
"Remember what we talked about Monday night?" Bridget whispered as they walked. They were far enough from the others not to be heard, but close enough to look like they were part of the herd.
"About Hayden and professor Artemis?" Scorpius guessed, "Of course. What about it?"
"Well," Bridget smirked coyly, "We're Thursday, which means we have Transfiguration at the last period." Scorpius rose an eyebrow, edging her to continue, "so I was thinking, why don't we tail professor Artemis after class? He won't be teaching after so he'll definitely do whatever he does in his free time!"
"He might go eat in the Hall early," Scorpius pointed out, "we never see him at dinner."
"No one eats dinner at four," Bridget told him, "ever. Besides, aren't you curious? You're the one who said he was suspicious - though I admit I can see why. He looked so paranoid earlier when I narrowed my eyes at him in the corridor!"
"What about Hayden?" Scorpius asked, "He's the one you found suspicious."
"Do you really think he's hiding something?" Bridget asked him back, worried, "I mean, he's just a first year… I know you said that-"
"I was just playing the Devil's advocate," Scorpius admitted sheepishly to her relief, "I tend to do that. To be fair, he probably is hiding something but I doubt it had anything to do with… this whole thing."
"Thank god," Bridget breathed, before smirking again, "so, you in?"
Scorpius didn't reply right away. What his sister was suggesting was not a study session; she wanted to follow a full grown wizard and hope that not only would he not notice them but that he wouldn't curse them if he did either. If professor Artemis was a dangerous fiend, the mission was practically suicidal and Scorpius had a feeling Bridget didn't quite understand how much.
She was a Gryffindor though, and a particularly curious one too. Keeping her from doing something stupid was hard but perhaps he could convince her to think about it more.
"I would," Scorpius finally answered with a sigh, "but I still have detention this week. We could wait until next week?"
"Not if he is doing something dangerous!" Bridget huffed, "I'll just go myself and tell you how it goes."
"Are you mad?" Scorpius hissed, "That too risky! You can't-"
Scorpius trailed off as he saw James and Fred strutting towards Albus behind them, passing them on the way. Fred was holding a suspiciously murky ball of something behind his back and there was little doubt where it was going to end up.
By the looks of it, Albus hadn't noticed his brother yet. He was busy talking to a Slytherin Scorpius didn't know and with his books in one hand and his satchel in the other, the younger Potter was not going to have enough mobility to dodge.
James and Fred shared mischievous grins.
"Wingardium leviosa," Scorpius whispered as Fred hurled the ball towards his unsuspecting cousin, earning a curious glance from Bridget. He flickered his wand almost imperceptibly in the sleeve of his robes.
Albus's eyes widened, "wha-" he started before shutting his eyes close, bracing himself for the hit.
The murky ball, now at Scorpius's command, stopped right in front of Albus's nose and floated there for a second or two during which time seemed to freeze. Then, it slowly backed away, picking up speed as it backtracked and hit Fred in the chest.
The blond Gryffindor could barely hide his smirk, ignoring Bridget who was rolling her eyes. She always thought he was being childish when he attacked James, Fred or Rose unprovoked.
A dark cloud suddenly enrobed the two bullies and soon all the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins who were walking towards the Hall turned in reaction to the high-pitched screams of the two boys. The cloud looked like it was composed of a multitude of tiny insects though Scorpius guessed they weren't real. Illusions perhaps, or lifeless dolls.
A few first years giggled at the second years caught in their own traps, others just walked past, already tired of all the pranks going on. It was only the second week and all the new students already knew what to expect of the Duo of Dread, as they had been nicknamed.
Albus was still blinking in shock. What had happened hadn't fully sunk in yet but when it did, the Slytherin looked up at Scorpius gratefully and Scorpius offered him one of his own smiles. Unfortunately, James chose that moment to break their charm. Scorpius was impressed the Duo had had the forethought of learning failsafes for their pranks, maybe they weren't as daft as they seemed.
"Finite incantatum!" James cried and instantly, the insects fell to the ground before vanishing completely. The Duo was out of breath, and very angry.
"Come on, let's go," Bridget urged, grabbing his arm once more and dragging him away.
Just as he turned around, Scorpius caught the glare of James, who had followed his younger brother's line of sight.
Scorpius glanced down at his wand on purpose, inwardly grinning in victory as the older Potter understood and fumed. Then he followed Bridget without protest, hastily distancing himself from the crime scene.
James had bullied his brother enough.
"You're not supposed to do magic in the corridors," Bridget chided as they finally reached the Hall. Out of habit, the two Gryffindors took the seats closest to the doors and didn't even bother checking for people to sit with.
"Yes, well you're not supposed to tail your professors either," Scorpius replied pointedly, "didn't peg you for the rules and regulation type."
"You just have some kind of vendetta against James Potter," Bridget pouted, "I'm doing this school a service."
"You're trying to get yourself killed," Scorpius corrected as he added a bit mashed potatoes and a lot of salad to his plate.
Bridget rolled her eyes "You're probably overthinking things, bro," she said, taking a bite of her chicken sausage, "there's caution and then there's paranoia."
"I'm sorry, who said that 'knowing there might be a rapist or a murdered in a school is not exactly reassuring' again?" Scorpius reminded her, his fingers doing the quote marks, "do you even realise what he could do to you if he caught you?"
"He can hurt me all he wants," Bridget glared with determination, "I'm not afraid of pain."
"There are spells that do much worse than hurt," Scorpius told her seriously. Was she seriously spouting all that nonsense? There was courage and then there was suicide. Just a few days ago, she had at least been worried - what in Merlin's name had changed?
"What is he gonna do?" Bridget snorted, "change the colours of my robes to yellow?"
"What?" Scorpius asked in disbelief.
"I've seen the magical world these past two weeks, bro," Bridget explained, "it's like a child censored version of the real world! Did you see what we're learning at the moment? The effects of the jelly-leg jinx, a charm to make objects fly, the peace treaty between unicorns and dragons, the importance of sparkles in magical evaluation, how to take care of singing sunflowers, how to transform a button into a hairclip! Magic is literally about sunshines and daisies. I mean, don't tell my parents but I've watched Breaking Bad and Jessica Jones; I think the muggles have a darker and grittier world - no offence."
Offence? No, Scorpius wasn't offended about Bridget's rant. He was horrified. Was that really what she thought of the magical world? She knew about the recent war, she knew how people had been slaughtered and tortured and turned into slaves. He had no idea what Breaking Bad and that Jessica woman were but the way she had said unicorns and dragons, in that slight mocking yet fond tone told him what he needed to know.
She was gravely mistaken about a lot of things, and it was likely to get her killed. Knowledge was often said to be a great weapon and perhaps ignorance was a handicap, but in Scorpius's opinion, erroneous knowledge did the most damage. Bridget was too confident in her image of the magical world. Granted, she probably knew more than anyone else back at her home, but she still didn't know anything of what she was getting herself in. She was going to get herself killed. She was going to die.
How could she say these things so casually?
"You're wrong," he breathed out, a bit panicked, "an educated wizard can do things you can't even imagine - you have no idea what-"
"Look, I get that you're worried," Bridget sighed, "and I'm thankful for it. But come on, let's be serious, even if he does turn me into a bunny in a top hat, another professor can always reverse it. It'll be fine. As professor Earl says in Magical Theory, magic is what we muggles call a science."
She was on a train about to crash and Scorpius had no way of stopping it.
Was it because she had never seen it with her own eyes? Scorpius had. Scorpius lived in a manor filled with suspicious objects. He had seen the scars on his father's chest, the brand on his arm. He had seen his grandfather losing his mind, his relatives showing their memories during their late trials. He had grown up hearing about Dementors, Thestrals and werewolves, about Unforgivable Curses and magic black as a moonless night. He had seen the darkness of the magical world, he lived right in the middle of it.
Sunshines and daisies?
"What do you know about magic?" Scorpius snapped, "You're muggleborn!"
Bridget's eyes went wide. It could have been because Scorpius had gotten angry, something he didn't do openly. It could have been because he had suddenly stood up and she was surprised. Most likely though, it was because of his words, of what they meant and of how demeaning they were in any context.
Scorpius barely caught himself, paling. Had he really said that?
All those in hearing range had stopped eating, staring at Scorpius in disgust, anger and horror. For him, out of all the students, to speak those very words… He might as well have called her a mudblood and praised the Dark Lord for killing her kind.
But Scorpius didn't like thinking in terms of mudblood. His grandmother had always told him not to judge people by their blood status for his sake more than anything, and deep down he knew there was little difference. Hermione Weasley was enough proof for that. Yet, there was a difference. He wouldn't have seen it if it hadn't been for Bridget ranting about it but there was a big, big difference. Bridget was naive, ignorant and yet she thought she knew it all.
"What the Hell does that mean?" Bridget growled and Scorpius didn't dare answer. He was already hanging by a thin enough thread without adding weight to his guilt.
"I thought you weren't like that!" She cried, "I thought you didn't care about blood status!"
"I didn't mean it like that," Scorpius defended himself weakly. He didn't know what was wrong with him; he usually wasn't that intimidated by angry people. He had offended more than one person in his life and never had he felt so terrible about. He couldn't even find his words, his arguments and his wit, "That wasn't what - Bridget, I -"
How did he stop her being angry? How did he calm her down? How did he make it okay again?
"I was saying that you haven't seen the extent of what magic can do yet," he tried, "that even though your blood status doesn't mean you can't become as brilliant of a witch as others, you still did live with muggles until recently and-"
"And just because you're pure-blood you know everything?" Bridget finished, cutting him off angrily, "Just because you're pure-blood you're right and I'm wrong? Well guess what, Malfoy? Every Muggle is worth ten of you."
With that last bit practically spat at her House brother, Bridget stormed out of the Hall, her lunch unfinished.
"Bridget!" Scorpius called back, "Bridget! Wait!"
He ran after her, his mind frantically trying to understand what had just happened. He had hurt Bridget in a way only he could. He had betrayed her after she had been the only one to give him her trust and now he was going to lose her too.
Had it been anyone else, Scorpius would have stood his ground because he was right. Discriminating muggleborns and acknowledging their existence, their different upbringing was very different. It was a fact that Bridget couldn't know as much as he did about the magical world just like it was a fact that Scorpius would be incapable of surviving a week in muggle London without magic. Not only that but Bridget's mindset was dangerous for her.
But Bridget was not anyone. She was Bridget and he couldn't hurt her. It wasn't a question of right and wrong. Even if he had to lie and accept an error as law, he had to fix it. Older brothers weren't supposed to -
Oh.
Scorpius stopped in his track, in the middle of a corridor.
"And you're… alright with this?" Ethan had asked.
No. No, he really wasn't.
LINEBREAK
By the time lunch was over and Defence Against the Dark Arts about to start, word of Scorpius Malfoy's outburst had already spread amongst everyone. The first year Gryffindor found himself walking with a large radius of empty around him. There were whispers of how his parents had obviously influenced him, of how he had been lying to them all along to try and fool them, of how he really should have been in Slytherin. Then again, he was used to whispers.
He accidentally bumped into Robin who promptly fainted.
Scorpius did try to find Bridget to at least apologise and come to some kind of understanding, but the girl had been avoiding him like the plague. She had even made sure to arrive just on time to class to make sure Scorpius wouldn't have had time to talk to her before.
How was he supposed to admit his wrongs if she wouldn't even let him? For a person as level-headed as Bridget, she was sure being unreasonable. Perhaps being muggleborn had eaten at her more than Scorpius had realised. Either ways, it was never a good strategy to ignore your enemies words. Distrusting them? Smart. Turning a deaf ear? Not so much.
Maybe it was for the best that Bridget never forgave him. He had enough to worry about with Hogwarts making him so sensitive and being friends with Bridget was just making it worst. How could he even know if he saw Bridget as a friend or if he was trying to turn her into a sister? It was cruel of him to put her in someone else's role, to use her as a replacement.
Still, he had to show her how twisted the magical world could get. Otherwise, Bridget was going to investigate a suspicious individual to her own risk.
"Professor?" He asked as the other students were reading a paragraph on recognising the effect of a subtile jelly-leg jinx. Ethan rose an eyebrow at him.
Professor Blishwick glared at him, probably angry that he had broken their unspoken agreement of pretending not to know of the other's existence. However, to her credit, she did reply, albeit icily, "Yes, Mr Malfoy?"
"How badly can a simple jelly-leg jinx turn out if performed incorrectly?" He asked, even though he knew the answer. He noticed Bridget frowning a few seats away.
The professor paused, assessing Scorpius and his question as if trying to see the trap in there. In the end, she must have decided that the question, at least, was indeed innocent enough.
"If it is just a slight stutter or a tremor of the hand while performing the jinx," the professor explained, talking to the whole class, "then it is likely that the spell will simply not work or that the effect will be greatly lessened. However," her tone turned darker, "if it is cast with a broken wand, it the incantation is too jumbled up or, often, when one first tries it wandless or wordless, it can easily shred a man's leg apart or permanently make him forget how to use them."
A lot of students paled at that and the professor took note.
"You shouldn't be so surprised," she said indifferently, "I was told Padma warned you that spell-casting was a delicate art. Many wizards have met their downfall at their own wands and it is important to keep in mind that magic is a double edged sword. Every spell can turn horribly wrong, which is why most do not even attempt experimenting with spell-crafting or wandless and wordless magic."
"But surely if you've used a spell enough, there's no chance of it going wrong?" Tatiana asked, having become interested in the discussed topic.
"I'm afraid, Mrs. Shafiq," professor Blishwick bluntly corrected, "that becoming accustomed to a spell is only being accustomed to its movement and its incantation. One must always focus on the casting. In fact, let me tell you about something that happened during my second year at Hogwarts."
"We had a fraud of a professor, a man called Gilderoy Lockhart," she started, "He has long gone out of fashion but twenty, thirty years ago, he was somewhat of a celebrity. He had defeated many creatures believed to be impossible to defeat and cured many incurable diseases… Or so he said. In truth, the man was simply incredibly talented with memory charms. He sought out wizards with achievements yet to be broadcasted, obliviated them and stole their accomplishments for himself."
"One day, he was forced to steal a wand to obliviate a fellow second year of mine. Only, he hadn't noticed my classmate's wand was broken and proceeded to cast the very same spell he had done a thousand times before. The spell backfired and instead of just erasing my classmate's recent memories of him, he completely destroyed all of his own. The Memory Charm is especially dangerous when it goes out of control. Even done correctly it can cause severe disorientation and headaches; professor Lockhart ended in the psyche ward of st Mungo's. His memory never did come back and it has caused him to become a bit insane."
"I suppose we should be thankful though," she finished, "Had he just concentrated enough to work his spell with a broken wand - an infuriatingly hard, but not impossible task for an experienced wizard - we would have ended with three dead students, a monster loose on campus killing the others, and absolutely no chance of wining the war against Lord Voldemort."
Bridget's eyes widened. She turned to Scorpius with a slightly guilty look but then her gaze hardened. She frowned in a way that said 'I know what you're trying to do' and angrily turned away again. Clearly, she didn't care so much about who was right between them. She was just angry about his muggleborn comment.
But Scorpius had to show her what she was getting herself into, even if it did, ultimately, destroy their friendship. He was right and no amount of pretend sibling-ship was going to let him be blinded again.
So, Scorpius asked a very similar question in Transfiguration the next hour.
Professor Artemis was a bit taken aback by the fact that Scorpius Malfoy, the boy who looked at him like he might have murdered someone, had asked him an actual, valid question in class. Nevertheless, the suspicious character got over his shock and answered the question as demanded by his role.
"Well transfigurating objects doesn't have that much danger," he said, "unless you count accidents where they regain their normal shapes suddenly. Wise wizards have died falling from ladders turning back into cauldrons or wearing helmets that started off as bludgers and getting their heads cleanly cut off."
"The most dangerous I'd say, is when one is dealing with live beings. It is exceedingly easy to kill accidentally using Transfiguration," he declared with unusual gravity to his voice, "just think about it, think about how many things can go wrong while temporarily immobilising the life of an animal or a person. Not to mention how simple it is to permanently disfigure someone. Transfiguration is where the most inhumane accidents happen. Messing with the art is messing with the nature of things, it is twisting what is into what should not be."
"Now, I hate to go on a tangent but I do believe this to be a necessary lesson to be learnt sooner rather than later. Transfiguration is not something to do for fun. Any spell you will use in class is a spell whose theories and laws you will have learnt by heart. The spells we teach up to your OWLs all have counter-spells, even for the all the little slip-ups you might do. However, in the future, you may be faced with more advanced spells, spells that you need to be a fool not to fear performing. Not to say you shouldn't be careful during your first five years at Hogwarts - there is no cure for death, I'm afraid."
"Was that supposed to achieve anything except traumatise half our class?" Bridget hissed from a few seats behind Scorpius when the teacher finished his explanation.
"As long as you'retraumatised," Scorpius replied, "I consider it mission accomplished."
"Yeah? Well try again, Malfoy."
Scorpius sighed.
Bridget disappeared right as the bell chimed. The thought of skipping detention to look for her was tempting but Scorpius knew a lost cause when he saw one. So, he walked to detention instead, praying that Bridget wasn't the kind of person trouble followed on a regular basis. His suspicion of professor Artemis was just a hunch anyway, just a gut feeling. The chances that he was actually some obscure dark wizard were quite low.
Hopefully she wouldn't do anything too stupid. Otherwise -
That wasn't Scorpius talking. He wasn't being rational. Bridget was going to be fine and there was no psychopath in the school.
"Mr. Malfoy," professor Patil greeted as he stepped inside, "take your usual seat."
Scorpius did as told; he had pissed off enough people today. Patricia was already there, writing her lines. She glanced up at him with an inquiring look, having obviously heard the rumours by now. Patricia didn't know him that well, they were acquaintances at best, but she was one of the few who talked to him willingly.
"My muggleborn friend thinks magic is harmless," he explained briefly as he took out a roll of parchment.
Patricia seemed to be fine with that answer and dived her nose back into her lines. They still had two detentions after that one but at least most of it was done.
The detentions with professor Patil had been extremely uneventful which itself was a miracle considering Patricia, James and Fred were in the same room. The Duo of Dread had two main targets after all: Patricia and Albus and they rarely let any opportunity slip by to tickle their nemesis. Scorpius himself didn't encounter any problems with his Housemates, they always arrived separately and left separately as Scorpius was a much faster writer than the two.
But still, these detentions had allowed Scorpius to learn quite a bit about the three others.
Patricia's table was always neat, her quill-case placed with obsessive precision horizontally over her parchment and her ink well dangerously close to her wrist as she wrote. She never spilled it though, and she crossed out her rare misspellings with a ruler. Her writing was quick, slanted, easy to read but very sharp.
James Potter had a very messy workspace. He dumped the contents of his quill-case on his table to find the quill he was looking for quickly and never really bothered putting it all back. Every time he added ink to his quill, drops would splotch all over his parchment and table. Not that that made any difference really; his writing looked like a child's doodle.
Fred Weasley was surprisingly more practical. He kept his ink well far from reach, making him stretch out regularly for the sake of being careful. He kept his quill-case on his knees, making all of his tools easily available without taking additional space on his table. His writing was big, round and simple but whenever a hasty error made a word harder to read, Fred preferred to cross it out and write it again to avoid straining the reader's eyes.
Scorpius had little to say about his own space. His quill-case was left in his satchel and he was using a self-inking quill so all there was left in front of him was his parchment. Despite being the youngest, his writing was exceptionally pretty and elegant. It had accentuated dips, slim curls and an innocent tilt. He didn't make mistakes but when an 'o' was too round or a title not centred enough, his eye twitched and he had to admit that the thought of starting it all over again often crossed his mind.
When James and Fred finally arrived, Scorpius didn't miss the harsh glares they were sending him. Something told him they didn't appreciate his earlier intervention. Luckily, under the teacher's scrutiny, there was nothing the two could do.
Besides, who wasn't angry with him at the moment?
Judging by the empty seats around him at dinner, Scorpius guessed that no one was a fairly good conclusion. His only consolation that night was seeing Bridget whole and alive eating and chatting with Tatiana.