Chapter 6
Mourning the loss of a loved one and the opening of new wounds...
On the other side of the castle, Ara was trying to snap Scorpius out of his funk. After the food fight, Scorpius hadn't said much of anything, despite Emelda and Ara's futile attempts at starting conversations. By the tenth time both girls had tried and failed to engage Scorpius, Ara was becoming extremely irritated.
"D'ya know who's in your dormitories?" asked Emelda, desperately trying to draw Scorpius into a conversation.
"Dunno," Scorpius said shortly, speaking with a tone that ended all conversations.
By the time the three first years had reached the Slytherin common room, Ara had had enough. Joking around and political arguments hadn't drawn Scorpius out of his shell, and Ara began to worry. If those two tactics didn't work, something was seriously wrong.
"That's bloody enough, Scorpius! You have every right to feel sad, but you have no right to be this ridiculously depressed! Your mom's not dead, for goodness's sake just think about what Rose is going through instead of being so selfish! At least your mom has a chance of recovery! We have to be here for Rose, and I'm not going to allow you to wallow in self-pity because it gets you nowhere, you hear? Hasn't my mom ever told you about her life as an eleven year old? You don't even understand the meaning of losing a loved one, and staying all depressed isn't going to help your mother, your father, Rose, or anyone at all! Just freaking focus on the positive, or all you'll ever be doing is just going to hurt yourself!" Ara ranted. Scorpius stood in front of her, slightly stunned and slightly angry.
"At least your parents are all healthy and functioning! You don't understand what's it's like to even have your parents' safety threatened! You're one to talk, you bloody hypocrite. How do you know what it's like to lose a loved one, huh?" Scorpius shouted back. "Why should you know any better than me? Why do you have the right to tell me how I feel and don't feel? You're not the boss of me, you can't control my feelings, and you don't even know the meaning of loss until you've experienced it, and obviously YOU HAVEN'T!"
"Guys!" Emelda tried to calm the two down and intervene in the growing shouting match. "You're attracting a rather large crowd!" she warned, as a few groups of Slytherin had turned to the shouting fest in interest.
"I DON'T CARE!" both Ara and Scorpius yelled simultaneously, crossing their arms identically.
"You will tomorrow morning! Ara's right on one thing Scorp, wallowing in your self-pity isn't going to get you anywhere. But Ara, Scorp's right on the fact that you can't tell him what to feel or not feel," Emelda mediated. Ara and Scorp huffed, rather comically, at the same time in response to Emelda's logic. "Now before you go and shout at each other again, remember that everything you say to one another will be remembered for a very long time, and be careful in what you say. I say that Scorp is entitled to a day of wimping around all depressed, but after tomorrow, he needs to get his act back together."
"Fine," Ara conceded. "I'm sorry, Scorp, it's just annoying when you shut me off. But you don't get to sacrifice your academic studying because of tomorrow's wimp out session," Ara warned.
"I know, I know," Scorp said tiredly. "I'm sorry, too, Ara. I don't like yelling at you. I think I'm just going to head off to bed, I'm super tired from all of this."
"See you Scorp," Ara acknowledged his apology, and padded off to the girls dormitories, Emelda following Ara's lead.
Scorpius trudged up the stairs to the boys dormitory and scanned the doors along the hallway for his name. Finding his room, Scorpius took a deep breath before pushing the door open, revealing three Slytherin green beds with each boy's trunk at the foot of each bed. Jayce Boot and Gavin Finnegan were already in the midst of unpacking their luggage, but Jayce stood up to greet Scorpius as he entered the room. Gavin, on the other hand, ignored Scorpius's entrance entirely and continued to unpack, his back to the newcomer.
"Hey, you're Scorpius, right?" Jayce inquired, reaching out to offer his hand.
"Yes, that's me. And you are?" Scorpius replied, grasping Jayce's hand firmly.
"Jayce, Jayce Boot. It's nice to meet you."
"Have you watched the James Bond movies?" Scorpius asked curiously, but stopping at the confused look on Jayce's face. "Nevermind, it's a muggle movie series, and the main character introduces himself in the same fashion that you did. But anyways, since when is meeting the son of a reformed Death Eater nice?" Scorpius laughed a little bitterly. "You must be so impressed," he bit out sarcastically.
"Hey, man, from what I've heard, your dad didn't turn out half bad, and you as well. So as long as you don't mess with Clara or any of her friends, if she has any," Jayce snickered, but became serious again. "Then you're good with me," Jayce added, with a hint of a warning, echoing Scorpius's words about Ara earlier in the day.
"Same thing goes for Ara Zabini, mess with her, you mess with me," Scorpius said evenly.
"Right then, so we understand each other," Jayce smiled, and then clapped him on the back. "That's Gavin Finnegan, over there. He hasn't said a word to me, but I remember him from the sorting. Good luck trying to get him to talk to you."
"Hey Gavin, I'm Scorpius..." Scorpius tried to introduce himself, but Gavin acted as if he hadn't heard anyone else in the room. "All right then..."
"Don't worry about it, maybe he's still a little shocked that he was sorted into Slytherin," Jayce grinned. "He'll probably come out of his shell once we get the hang of things around here."
"Right," Scorpius agreed readily. "Jayce, I'm really tired, so I think I'm going to sleep, now. I've had a long day."
"Sure, sure. Before you tuck in, though, do you mind telling me what happened with McGonagall and Rose Weasley? I mean, only if you feel comfortable about telling me, since it seemed pretty darn awful."
"Well..." Scorpius began, but noticed that Gavin Finnegan had finished unpacking and was trying to subtly listen in on the conversation, although he failed to be unnoticeable. "Mate, half of the story isn't really mine to tell, and I think it's probably a big enough issue that you're bound to see it on the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning. I'm just going to crash, after all I am exhausted." Scorpius said with an air of finality, eying Gavin warily.
"That bad, huh? Well, if it applies, I'm sorry for any loss you experience and I hope all works out in the end."
"I don't need anyone's pity, so don't bloody give me any of that trash," Scorpius snapped. Realizing how rude he was being, Scorpius pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a long, deep breath and exhaling slowly. "Jayce, mate, I'm sorry, it's just really stressful are the moment, and I'm very irritable. Sorry."
"I get it, I get it. Just get some rest, and I bet you'll feel tons better."
"How much?" Scorpius asked cheekily, crawling under the covers.
"A Slytherin through and through..." Jayce shook his head. "Go to sleep now, shut up, or I'll knock you out myself," Jayce threatened.
"Night," came the muffled reply from the bed.
On the other side of the Slytherin dormitory, Ara and Emelda had entered the room to find Iridia von Loisson lounging on her bed.
"You must be Iridia! I'm Emelda, and this is Araluen, or Ara," Emelda introduced herself cheerfully. Iridia looked up at the two girls, clearly unimpressed.
"Nice to meet you," Ara grit out, still frustrated with Scorpius.
Iridia looked up, nonplussed. "Whatever," Iridia drawled, returning back to the book she was reading.
"What are you reading?" Emelda asked cautiously, daring to attempt to begin a conversation with another rather frosty person.
"None of your flipping business," Iridia replied shortly, infuriating Emelda to the point where she snapped.
"Look, Iridia, just because you're not in the mood to talk, a simple few sentences could have been much more effective than being a bitch with no manners." Emelda paced around the room. "All I was hoping to accomplish with this conversation was to make life easier for all of us by getting to know each other a little bit. We don't have to be friends, but we will be spending quite a few years together, and I had hoped that we could at the very least, tolerate each other," Emelda ranted.
Iridia snorted simply. "I can tolerate you, so long as you never step, breath, or go anywhere near my belongings, which are all, by the way and for your convenience, are clearly labeled behind this line. Whatever you do, so long as you never cross this line, you'll live your life, and I'll live mine. Easy enough, just leave me alone and I'll leave you alone, too."
"Wow, you really don't have to be such a bitch," Emelda shook her head astounded at Iridia's rudeness.
"And you can go stick your insufferable nose into someone else's business," Iridia snapped back. "Like I said, leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone. So shut up and ignore me, just like everyone does and should!"
"We're just trying to be nice to you, I'm sorry if you really don't want us around at all," Ara said quietly.
"You're exactly right, I don't want you around at all, so just leave me alone," Iridia snapped, and jumped off her bed, taking a book with her. She stormed out of the room, pushing Ara and Emelda on her way out and throwing the door open and closed with a loud slam.
"I had really hoped I wouldn't have to room with a bitch," sighed Emelda. Ara simply shrugged, not voicing her thoughts that Iridia's bitchiness had probably originated from some feeling of inadequacy previous to her experience at Hogwarts. Ara was too tired to do anything else, so she simply crawled into bed, and laid there, thinking about how the world was just so messed up.
Eventually, Alden and Rose returned to the Gryffindor common room, but the truth or dare group had already dispersed. Too tired to do anything else, the two lions went to their respective dormitories and crashed for the night. When Amelia shook Rose awake the next day, Rose frantically burst out of bed, panicking about her failure to read the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook for the fifth time since purchasing it.
"Goodness, Rose," Clara groaned, sitting on top of her bed and pulling on her clothes for the day. "Take a chill pill. Seriously girl, you need to loosen up a bit. I'm surprised you haven't stressed yourself out to death, yet."
"God forbid that Rose forget the forty-second word on page three hundred and forty-three," Amelia laughed sarcastically. "But honestly Rose, don't you think you can just relax for a little bit? With everything that's happened..." Amelia trailed off, knowing that she could easily upset Rose with the wrong choice of words.
"Are you okay?" Clara asked concernedly. "We didn't talk to you for the rest of the night, and you must have come in when we were already asleep."
Rose paused in her frantic multitasking: rereading The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection and packing her book bag, overloaded with colored quills for color coding as well as various muggle stationery items, like matching colored Post-its and a mini-stapler. She glanced over in Clara and Amelia's direction. "Honestly, you two, I'm fine," she briefly answered, and turned back to the eighth chapter.
Amelia huffed and stomped over to Rose, pulling the book out of her hands and throwing it on the bed.
"Hey!" Rose cried, outraged. "That is absolutely no way to treat a book, you disrespectful, illiterate nincompoop!"
"For your information, I am quite literate, thank you very much," Amelia snapped. "And you weren't paying us any attention when all we want to do is help you. Talking about it might help you know, you ungrateful bookworm!"
"I don't want to talk about it," Rose said stubbornly, attempting to make a grab for the textbook, but Amelia anticipated the move and threw the book to Clara.
"Give me back my book," Rose screeched.
"Not until you tell us what's wrong," Clara said evenly, holding the textbook out of Rose's reach.
"My dad bloody died, okay? Are you happy now?" Rose growled, snatching the textbook out of Clara's hands as Clara dropped her arms down in shock.
"I'm sorry," Clara said quietly. Amelia nodded her head in agreement.
"Well thanks, but no thanks. I don't need your bloody pity party," Rose fumed, sticking her textbook into her bag and storming off to the Great Hall for breakfast, still in her disheveled clothes from the previous day.
"I was really hoping it wasn't quite so serious..." Clara said eventually, after a moment's silence.
"Believe me, I think we all were," Amelia said sadly, shaking her head.
In the Great Hall the next morning, the chattering students all received their timetables and were eagerly comparing their schedules. A few reunited couples were snogging each other senseless in the hallways leading up to the Great Hall, much to the dismay of many of the single students that happened to stumble upon them. One of such couples was Elliot Applesmith and Amy Weasley, two sixth year Gryffindors that had, just recently, finally gotten over the friend zone obstacle and were quite contentedly making out. Unfortunately, Caymen Kwasney, a second year Slytherin, and his best friend Lysander Scamander had walked pass a rather noisy broom closet, or also known as the two sixth year lovebirds, in the middle of their make out session. Glancing at the other, Caymen motioned a sticking charm between the couple, where their mouths were attached. Lysander quietly shook his head, whispering how it would be too hard to breath, to which Caymen scoffed. They ended up agreeing on a body sticking charm, which would prove interesting for both Elliot and Amy as their hands were all over each other.
The two Slytherins, having done their research on pranks and all the spells necessary to make them happen, cast a few disillusionment and silencing charms on each other, and crept up quietly to the couple. Then, they cast the spell, which took effect immediately. Cleverly, however, Caymen had modified the spell to only work on the hands, which proved problematic when Elliot tried to move his hand out from under Amy's shirt. Realising something was wrong, Elliot broke the kiss and looked down at his hand.
"Amy, are you just really sweaty, or is my hand stuck to you?"
Amy frowned. "Way to ruin the moment, Elliot, by telling a girl she's sweaty," Amy snapped, trying to move away from him, but finding that she couldn't. "What did you do?" she exclaimed, becoming frantic. "Elliot! What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" he responded, tugging on his hand. He continued to pull, but to no avail. "What did you cover yourself in? Whatever lotion you put on, it's really not that great."
"Could you quit insulting me and just get your bloody hand out of my shirt? You're a terrible boyfriend! Ugh! I can't believe this. This is exactly what my mother warned me about!"
"Let's make a deal, you don't insult me, then I won't insult you. Okay?"
"Elliot!" Amy screeched.
"Shh, shh, shh," he tried to comfort her, but Amy and her infamous Weasley temper got the better of her.
"This is abuse! You're such a pig! For Merlin's sake, how hard can it be to get your hand off of me?"
"It's a whole lot harder than you would expect. I think we'll have to go get someone, like Madam Pomfrey, to unstick us."
"You planned this all out!" Amy accused. "Madame Pomfrey doesn't even work at this school anymore, she retired years ago! Do you enjoy humiliating people? I bet you and Connor planned this whole thing out in order to embarrass me in front of the entire school, as well as all of the teachers. My mum will kill me if she ever catches wind of this!"
"Merlin, girl, relax. So long as Professor Pucey doesn't run into us on our way there, we might get a few strange looks, but that's no big deal."
Unfortunately, just at that moment, Professor Pucey walked right past the slightly ajar broom closet where they had been snogging, and opened the door at the sound of her name. She gave her infamous death glare, but then smiled creepily.
"Now, my dears, where exactly were you headed and who didn't want to run into me on the way there?" Professor Pucey smiled like a Cheshire cat after catching and destroying its prey.
Elliot visibly gulped. "Well, Professor, I was helping Amy... get an itchy spot for her..." he attempted to improvise, but failed rather miserably.
"That's clearly why, especially since she cannot reach that particular spot next to her breast, am I right? Seriously, at least try to make your lies believable. That was pathetic."
Amy remained silent.
"Well, Mr. Applesmith and Ms. Weasley, I will sadly have to inform your parents about your current predicament. If you could kindly remove your hands from each other..."
"We can't... Professor, that's the thing. I've tried, believe me, but there is some sort sticking charm," Amy tried to explain.
But by the time that this point in the conversation had been reached, Lysander and Caymen had removed the charm, quietly snickering.
"Really, is that so, Ms. Weasley? Why don't the both of you try again?" Professor Pucey drawled, looking on and clearly unimpressed. "Perhaps you didn't try hard enough the first time. Maybe my presence will be a suitable motivator."
"But Professor, we've already tried," Elliot began to protest.
"Well, try again!" the Professor snapped back.
Amy frowned, and at the same time, Amy and Elliot gave two strong tugs, and separated extremely easily. No longer connected, they crashed to the ground, upsetting the various brooms in the closet as well as Filch's cleaning supplies.
"It appears that your sticking charm only required a suitable motivating factor. Now, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"
Amy stared at Elliot's hands worriedly, completely befuddled.
"Oh, Professor, it seriously wasn't that easy before. I don't understand! We kept trying it before, but-" Elliot stuttered confusedly.
"Shut up!" Amy hissed. Do you realize how much trouble we are in? I'm a prefect! This was all your idea!"
"It's not like it wasn't consensual," Elliot protested, earning himself a slap on the arm.
"I'm sure it was. Now, I'm afraid I'll have to inform your parents of your current predicament, and you'll have to follow me to my office for a brief description of your detention for the next few days," the professor stated.
"Oh no, my mum's going to go batty when she hears of this. And on the first day of school, where I AM a prefect! I am so dead. Oh my Merlin, oh my Merlin, I am so beyond screwed!" Amy began to hyperventilate.
"Ms. Weasley, please kindly shut your mouth and follow me," Professor Pucey grit out.
"Just do what she says," Elliot said quietly, under his breath, latching onto Amy's sleeve and dragging her after the professor.
"But, but, but, but..." Amy could be heard repeatedly protesting against the punishments listed.
Lysander and Caymen emerged from the broom closet moments later, laughing hard.
"Did you see the look on her face?" Lysander guffawed.
"Priceless!" Caymen agreed.
"We should do that more often. But we need to plan our entrance into breakfast this morning."
"Plan? Hah, that's for amateurs, Lysand. We're second years, we improvise! Well, I improvise," Caymen shook his head disdainfully. "Oh Lysander, Lysander," Caymen smiled as they approached the double doors to the Great Hall. "You go in first, and we'll have a competition on the best entrance, sound good?"
"Good luck then, mate. You didn't see the food fight yesterday since you came in late. That was my entrance, so let's see if you can top that," Lysander challenged.
"We'll see then, we'll see," Caymen grinned. "Go on in now!"
Lysander obliged, opening the doors and slipping inside. Caymen double checked the corridor to see if anyone was around, before muttering several spells that would release once Caymen stepped inside the Great Hall. Double checking once more that there were no more students on their way to breakfast, Caymen then pushed the doors open.
The Great Hall suddenly quieted, as all of the candles and lights had gone out and darkened the room, leaving Caymen's silhouette the only thing visible. As he entered the hall, hundreds of fireworks exploded into snakes, slithering through the air, eliciting a few girlish shrieks of surprise. After a few moments, however, the snakes disappeared in a cloud of smoke, covering the entire room. Caymen, with a flick of his wand, announced in an amplified voice, "CAYMEN KWASNEY... IS IN THE HOUSE!" at the same time clearing the air of smoke and returning the lights.
"All right kids, go back to eating your breakfast. It's okay, I'm here," he said smugly, sneering at the Gryffindors who had jumped to their feet with their wands out. "Don't worry, I'm sure the big, bad, Gryffindors will protect everyone from harm, anyways. Oh, and please let Mr. Lysander Scamander and me know which entrance you preferred, his weeny little food fight or my epic, dramatic arrival."
The Gryffindors all rolled their eyes, a few of them sending silencing charms in Caymen's direction, who easily dodged them or blocked them and any other stray hexes. He ignored them easily, heading straight for Lysander at the Slytherin's table.
Professor McGonagall, who had allowed the harmless prank to continue without any interference, sighed, knowing that she would have to give a minor punishment to the talented second year, if only to keep up appearances. Professor Longbottom smiled, knowing exactly what was going through McGonagall's mind.
"Minerva, I know you don't want to give Mr. Kwasney a punishment, but you do know what the repercussions would be."
"Neville, don't remind me, please," she stated simply. "I'll just talk to him during my class, I do have him sometime today."
"You have to admit, though, these first and second years are showing an incredible amount of promise, thus far," Neville continued, sipping his pumpkin juice.
"Yes, I know. It's very interesting, how many of them are able to control their magic at such a young age. You think I didn't notice Ms. Zabini's spell yesterday? Quite powerful and well controlled, I might add. I do believe that was her first spell ever casted, and it outstripped even Mr. Scamander's attempt at the same spell."
"Have you spoken with the Sorting Hat, recently?" Neville asked suddenly.
"Not since the day before yesterday, why?" she turned to face him, interested.
"Well, ever since I've become a professor, I've always enjoyed talking to the hat after the sorting. Usually it picks out future Head couples, future prefects, or even future spouses. However, this time around, the hat had a few particular things to say about several of our first years, namely Araluen Zabini, Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Potter, and Rose Weasley."
"Really? I've never really spoken with the hat at length before. Has it been successful in its predictions?"
"For most cases, yes, but there are a few exceptions. Everything so far since the Second Wizarding War has held true, but during Harry and my generation, obviously some things were disrupted with various deaths or interruptions in our seventh years. There's only really been one case where it's been down right wrong."
"Do tell."
"It seriously thought that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy would make a splendid couple."
McGonagall snorted. "How likely. That brat of a boy was more than ridiculously atrocious to her, and with that sort of history, there is no way, even with magic, that the two could end up together. I am interested, though, what the hat had to say about our first years."
"It claims that their powerful parentage will lend the four to do amazing things, and that Sybil would soon create a prophecy that would pertain to those four."
"How amazing is amazing?"
"Like, come up with counter curses to the Unforgivables type amazing. Cure the magical world of the most lethal diseases. Purge the world of all dark wizards," Neville whispered. "That's the potential that these four have."
"Four," Professor McGonagall muttered, lost in thought. "Four like the four houses in Hogwarts. Four like a four leaf clover," she suddenly straightened. "But why isn't there one first year from each house, then?"
"I asked the hat that as well, but it only said that two of the four could have just as easily been Ravenclaws, so that house is doubly compensated for."
"Araluen and Rose," McGonagall stated immediately. "Easily."
"My thoughts exactly."
"Create counter curses to the Unforgivables? That's quite a feat..." McGonagall pondered. Neville nodded.
"I don't wonder that the hat isn't wrong on this one. I mean, sure, they might be very powerful and even more powerful together, but counter curses to things like the death curse? How could that be possible?" Neville asked, tapping his finger on his goblet. "I think the hat over exaggerated."
"I'd have to agree," McGonagall said, sweeping her gaze over the four first years. "Well, I guess we'll see, anyways."
"So, Scorp, what order do you have your classes in?" Emelda asked cheerily.
"Uhh..." Scorpius rifled through his book bag, searching for the discarded parchment. "Let's see, well, on Monday, first is Charms, then second is Defense Against the Dark Arts, and after lunch, I have a double block for Potions. Tuesday is a double block for Transfiguration, and then History of Magic and Astronomy. Wednesday is a double block for Defense Against the Dark Arts, then Herbology and Flying. Thursday has Potions, History of Magic, then a double block for Charms. Friday has Herbology double block, Transfiguration, and Astronomy."
"Well, for all of the History of Magic and Astronomy classes, we're the same. For all of the other classes, we sometimes swap. Transfiguration and Charms I think replace each other, but Potions and DADA are the same," Emelda replied, scrutinizing her timetable. "What about you, Ara? What does your schedule look like?"
"It's exactly the same as Scorpius's besides swapping History of Magic and Astronomy. I thought that houses used to all stick together in their classes for first year..." Ara stated perplexed. "I guess they have changed it so there's more intermingling?"
"Maybe," Scorpius shrugged offhandedly. "I just hope that all of our classes are interesting, well at least , mildly so."
"How are your roommates, Scorp?" Emelda inquired.
"I think Jayce Boot and I will be really great friends, but that Gavin Finnegan guy is really frosty."
"We had the same experience with Iridia von Loisson. Just a complete prat," Emelda complained as all of the owls flew in.
Each of the Slytherins received an envelope, but while Emelda and Araluen opened their packages eagerly, Scorpius took a while longer, staring at the envelope. The envelope was a creamy white, staring up at him with a dark green cursive handwriting that spelled out his name clearly. Ara, smiling from her father's ridiculous joke made about the Gryffindors, giggled and turned to give her mother and father's love to Scorpius. Seeing the wary look in Scorpius's eyes, Ara stopped, her smile fading.
"Scorp? You all right? You haven't even opened your envelope," Ara pointed out worriedly.
"I know, I know, but... Ara, how could this happen?"
"What happened?"
"How could she have written this?" he asked apprehensively. "She's in a coma! How could she have written me a letter that was delivered today? Is she okay? Did she come out of her coma? Or did she die? And is this a letter she wrote before her death? I don't know if it has bad news, or good news!"
"Maybe she began writing it before she even went to King's Cross yesterday with you? I don't know, why don't you open it and find out?" Ara suggested, grabbing his hand and placing the envelope into his palm. Scorpius shakily broke the Malfoy seal, pulling the thick parchment out.
Dear Scorpius,
I know it might seem silly, after all I am writing this before we even drop you off. I don't even know what house you'll be in, but I have an odd feeling that for some reason, compels me to write this now rather than later. I'm fairly certain you'll be in Slytherin, just like your father and I were. I'd actually be rather shocked if you aren't, after all, what would your grandparents say? All of those years of Malfoy and Greengrass purity, not a single one of them yet a Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Merlin forbid, Hufflepuff. It does become tiresome, having to hear about our perfect bloodlines, but I do hope you give our family no reason to continue their purist rants.
Anyways, your father gives his love, well he hasn't explicitly stated this, especially since he doesn't know I'm writing this letter, but I'm sure he does. And I as well. I wish the best of luck to you in your studies at Hogwarts, and I hope that you don't have too hard of a time. Make the Malfoys proud, my boy, and remember your mother.
On a more solemn note, my boy, you now know and understand what hardships your father and I had to face during our time at Hogwarts, and we both hope you make better choices than we did at your age. I hope you aren't pegged for being the son of a man who made the wrong choices, when he was merely a child. Stay strong, my son, and keep your friends close and do cherish them.
Your mother,
Astoria Malfoy
Scorpius teared up a little at the end, gratefully squeezing Ara's hand when she offered it. As Scorpius was about to put the parchment back into the envelope, Ara snatched away the envelope, seeing a small piece of paper still inside.
"Ara, what are you doing? What-"
"Look, it's a note from your dad, Scorp."
Scorpius took the small note with his father's hurried scrawl, and scrutinized it, trying to make sense of the scribbles.
Dear Scorp,
Congratulations on being in Slytherin, though I wouldn't have really cared, so long as you weren't a Hufflepuff. I found this letter in your mother's pocket last night, so I thought you'd like to hear from her. I know that she would be very proud of you. Best of luck, and win the house cup, all right? Beat those Gryffindors!
Love,
Dad
"Well, I guess that explains it," Ara said timidly, uncertain of Scorpius's reaction.
"Yeah," Scorpius said in a bittersweet tone. Before Ara could respond, the bell rung, and Scorpius shoved the letter into his book bag, leaving the table to head off to the Charms classroom. Ara sighed, and followed him out of the hall, separating from Emelda who was eagerly chatting with Jayce as they left for Transfiguration.
Once Scorpius and Ara entered the Charms classroom, Rose spotted them and waved them over to where she was sitting.
"Hey you two, I'm so glad we have a class together!" Rose squealed a little too excitedly.
"Us, too, right Scorp?" Area replied, nudging Scorpius.
Scorpius simply made a noncommittal grunt, still mulling over the contents of his father's and mother's letters. Ara sighed, knowing it would be at least thirty minutes until Scorpius could focus on something besides the letters. Ara observed Rose's disheveled appearance, and voiced her thoughts aloud.
"Rose, you look kind of mussed up. Did you sleep okay? Late start?" Ara guessed.
"Well, it wasn't the easiest night, you could say. I kinda just fell into bed, after being so... distressed and all. I woke up late, too, so I just ended up coming straight to breakfast, and here I am."
"You sure you're okay there?" asked Ara concernedly. "Sounds like a rough night. I heard something happened yesterday... but no one knows what."
"I'd prefer not to talk about it," Rose said stiffly.
Before Ara could pester her further, Professor Flitwick's shrill voice interrupted any additional conversation, starting the class. "Welcome to Hogwarts, class, and welcome to first year Charms! In this class, we will be learning the wondrous art of charms and their applications. We will be doing a few modest test-" at this word, Rose began to hyperventilate, to which Scorpius rolled his eyes, "-s throughout the week, to allow for advanced placement. It is a new educational model we are trying out here in Charms, since we've seen many first years that already have had a jump start for their personal defense."
Rose's hand shot up in the air. The Professor chuckled, obviously reminded of Hermione's eagerness a decade or so before. "Yes, Ms. Weasley?"
"Are we going to know when these exams are and what they entail?"
"No, Ms. Weasley, I believe you misunderstand the format and purpose of these exams."
"Well, could you explain, Professor?"
"Yes, yes of course. This year, since it's my last year teaching Charms before I retire, I decided to cater more to the individual student's needs, which will be dictated by the observations I make during the course of this week. When you are practicing various charms, I will be watching and evaluating the level of skill each student has reached. At the end of the week, I will group students together based upon their skill level, and from then on I would divide up time during our periods together between the different levels to allow for more individualized teaching."
"Do you know how many levels you will have?"
"Not yet, for I haven't gotten to see anyone attempting a charm yet, have I? So without further ado, let us begin with the well known charm, Wingardium Leviosa. Without your wands class, repeat after me, please. Wingardium Leviosa, that's it! Make sure together the pronunciation correct. Mr. Malfoy, please say it with me, come on now."
"Wingardium leviosa," Scorpius drawled lazily, in such a way that several of the other girls in the class giggled obnoxiously.
"Good, now we may all use our wands, but be careful, now. All together now, ready? Wingardium Leviosa!"
Ara, Scorpius, and Rose managed it easily, levitating the feathers far above the desks.
"Good, good, Ms. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, and..." Professor Flitwick praised, trailing off as he looked expectantly at Ara.
"Araluen Zabini," she supplied, to which Professor Flitwick grinned widely.
"Excellently done, Ms. Zabini. Please give your parents my kindest regards, and same to you Ms. Weasley and... Mr. Malfoy," he added, almost as an afterthought. Turning back to Ara, he smiled, "I hear your mother was doing some interesting work with counter memory charms, and did succeed in aiding Ms. Weasley's mother over here. Both of your mothers were incredibly accomplished, although I have to say I've unfortunately never been able to take any credit for your mothers' brilliance," he continued, slightly distracted and then moved on to help a different group of students who were failing miserably.
"Looks like someone's already a teacher's pet," Scorpius snarked as soon as the professor was out of hearing range.
"Oh hush you, you know you're just jealous," Ara teased.
"Jealous of what, a few words of 'praise' from a short, stubby, little, old man? Please, Ara, don't be ridiculous," he sneered.
"You're just in denia-" Rose began, but was cut off by a sudden explosion, followed by several girlish screams. The entire class turned to look at the source of the explosion, finding that Gavin Finnegan managed to, much like his father, explode his feather, although it appeared to be rather problematic for the annoying Hufflepuff girl next to him, who received the majority of the impact. Instead of looking shocked, or even grim, as would be expected, Finnegan's face was composed in a cool, neutral mask, showing no emotion. Ara nudged Scorpius, and whispered into his ear.
"Do you think that was intentional?"
"I can't tell, and that's what worries me..." he whispered back.
"What are you all whispering about?" Rose said altogether too loudly, several students turning to look at them.
"Bloody, noisy, stupid, dismal, irritatingly obnoxious Gryffindorks," Scorpius muttered under his breath.
"Oh, we were just wondering if there were any charms that would counteract the explosion, possibly repairing the feather," Ara said smoothly, not missing a beat. The rest of the class returned to their attempts to make the feathers fly.
"Well, there wasn't much reason then to whisper it, is there?"
"Rose..." Scorpius tsk'ed. "You seriously need to learn the art of Slytherin subtlety. Your Gryffindor 'bravado' will get you in tons of trouble."
"So then teach me!" she huffed.
"We will, but your first lesson is on keeping your voice way down, you sounded like a bloody firebell in the middle of the night!" Scorpius scolded.
"Well sorry that I didn't know about the sudden need to be quiet. Sheez," Rose snapped back, under her breath.
"Anyways, did you notice the look that Gavin Finnegan had on his face after the explosion?" Ara attempted to diffuse the tension boiling between the Malfoy and Weasley.
"No, what about him?" Rose turned to face Ara, completely ignoring Scorpius.
"He had no expression, it was just this very neutral and cold mask, it almost seemed like a solemn statue," Scorpius butted in.
"Don't most Slytherins have that same emotionless mask on all the time?" Rose asked confusedly.
"Yeah, but most purebloods, or at least those with a lot of interaction with that elitist community, like Ara and me, learn to read the eyes and subtleties in a mask that deciphers the true emotion behind the mask. Younger children don't really master the art of the mask that's apparent at Gavin's level, and few adults get to the point where their eyes seem soulless." Scorpius explained.
"What do you mean when you say that his eyes are soulless? How do you look for that? And how does that have to do with anything?" Rose fired question after question.
"It means that they seem dead, with no spark of anger, excitement, happiness, or even sadness can be seen. It's inhuman, and that's what the whole point is. If Finnegan didn't have any reaction to the explosion, which was incredibly sudden," Ara began and waited expectantly for Rose to follow and complete the thought.
The light dawned in Rose's eyes. "Then why wouldn't he be surprised, unless he did intentionally explode the feathers or knew what would happen?"
"Exactly, good girl, Rosie," Scorpius sarcastically applauded. Ara smacked him on the arm, glaring at the blonde git.
"That was exactly what we were wondering. Scorp here had been telling me all about how Gavin was really quiet yesterday, but seemed very interested in observing rather than interacting," Ara held up her hand at Rose, who had just begun talking. "Let me finish-" and Rose fell silent. "At first, we thought that maybe he was just homesick or something, or even that he was tired, but today, he still was perfectly masked. There's just something off about Finnegan, and it's scary how well he's mastered the pureblood mask when I doubt his family has even spoken to a snobby pureblood unless they had to."
Ara then lowered her hand, allowing Rose to speak, but Rose merely pondered the two Slytherins' observations.
"Whatever, you two suck ups. We'll keep an eye on him and you two can go back to being teacher's pets. Does that sound all right?"
"What broomstick do you have up your arse?" Rose snapped, clearly annoyed that her pondering time had been interrupted.
"The very newest Lougée and Thapa iBroom Nano."
"The what?"
"Oh forget it you hopeless halfblood." To that, Ara, who had already begun picking up useful hexes from Lysander, sent a strong stinging hex towards Scorpius's shoulder, who yelped at the force of the hex. Normal stinging hexes? No problem for Scorpius Malfoy. Araluen Zabini's stinging hexes? A world of pain.
"Sorry, Rose," Scorpius apologized bleakly, under Ara's glare of disappointment. "What I meant to say, was the that the Lougée and Thapa iBroom Nano is the newest addition to Chandler Lougée-Finch-Fletchley's collection for one of the American team's seekers: Laura Thapa- well now Laura Jordan."
"Oh those brooms! My dad says those outstrip the 2012 Doomsday brooms, and we know how fast those are!" Rose exclaimed excitedly, but then froze at the mention of her dad as her words sunk in. Tearing up a little, she quickly excused herself to go to the bathroom, bursting out of the Charms classroom. Ara and Scorpius looked at each other, completely bewildered.
AN: REVIEW PLEASE! How do you like Caymen, Elliot, Amy, and the disturbing Gavin Finnegan? Don't you just love Professor Natasha Pucey? Thoughts on how amazing our four main children our going to be? Reviews are greatly appreciated!