"It's okay Scorpius, you'll do great!" said Rose as Rocky, Watson Trout and Enoc used their wands to levitate the beater brute off the pitch so that Slytherin could hold their training session.

"That's what you guys said last year." Said Scorpius. His face was sweaty and his knuckles were white around his broomstick as he watched the Slytherins who were trying for keeper, step out to take their turn. He had tried out for the Slytherin team last year, but hadn't successes in holding a spot. Albus, who didn't want to try out, but did because Scor made him, was the successful one and caught a spot as seeker.

"Just give up!" they heard a rude shout from above them. The four friends looked up to see Angelo Stewart, a beater from last year and member of the Salazar's leering down at them. "You're just as likely to made a spot on the team as you are becoming potions professor! 'Oh No! Rosie help me! It's bubbling over!'" Stewart reenacted Scorpius' last potions fiasco with the iron based growth concoction.

Scorpius scowled deeply; he had been really embarrassed of that event. Rose grabbed him by the sleeve to hold him and still and face forward.

"Eat dung!" called Al before also turning around.

"Aw, is Gorpius embarrassed?" he taunted.

"We're the only ones who can call him that!" said Max.

"Ease your temper, Malfoy, wouldn't want you calling your daddy on me. Heard he has blood on his hands. How many mudbloods did he kill? At least thirty, wasn't it? He was in you-know-whose inner circle wasn't he?"

"My father has never killed anyone!" Scorpius spat, red faced turning back around.

"Yes, your father would have been cool if he hadn't married that scum. Not a blood purist is she, your mom? I think it's a crime to associate one's of pure blood and mind with those of the alternative. Bad mix, bad egg." Stewart shoved Scor in the back and he almost fell forward.

"Scor, don't!" Rose called, trying to hold him back. "You can't miss try outs because you're in detention!"

"Having a flower fight your fights? You're weaker than I thought. That Malfoy name hasn't done you well has it?"

"Shut up, Angelo!" Rose called, now holding Max by the robe so that he wouldn't jump on him too. They were both bigger and stronger than she was and could both easily push against her, but she figured that a small barrier is better than none.

"You're one to talk!" Scor shouted, pulling away from Rose's fighting grip to jab a finger at Stewart's chest. "Never had a mum yourself, did you? You're just jealous! Unwanted! That's how you feel! Your own father tells you that!"

"Who told you that?" Stewart growled.

"Poppy has a big mouth." He grinned. "Better choose your friends more carefully."

Stewart's shoved Scorpius back by the chest, hard. He fell against Rose as Stewart's fist could be seen from a mile away as it came streaking for Scorpius' face. A hand grabbed Stewarts wrist while the other slammed his face in in a satisfying crack that Rose assumed was probably his nose. She pushed Scorpius off her and looked over quickly to see Max's stunned face at Al who was holding his fist.

"You mess with one of us, three more will be out for your blood!" Al called angrily at Stewart who was holding his nose, then he grinned at Max, having just quoted exactly what he had said last year when defending a friend.

Stewart scrambled to his feet and took off in the opposite direction, making a rude hand gesture at them all. There were scattered applause from the surrounding crowd of Slytherins.

"Thank God." Said Olive Farmore, a Slytherin chaser from last year. "I don't know what I would have done if he made it on the team this year."

Rose, Max, and Al looked back over at Scorpius who was still red faced with rage; Rose thought that it was probably the jab at his mother that had got him. A distant whistle blew as the Slytherin captain, Keith, beckoned the players over.

"Excuse me." Scor growled before grabbing his broom and taking off toward the sky with enough force to knock Al off his feet.

Rose watched, perplexed as Scor preformed his tasks in the most efficient way and with such ease. The try out didn't last long at all for beaters. Scor came shooting toward the ground and Max grabbed the broom from his hand in fear that he would hit someone with it. For being a skinny twelve-year-old boy, be looked dangerous.

"Where's Stewart?" he said without looking around him. "I want to-"

"You don't have to do anything." Said Max, grabbing Scor by the hood of his robes to stop him, playing a Rose as the others called it. "I think Al has taken care of it."

Scor looked down at Al's hands folded together and pulled them apart to find his right fist slightly bruised. Scorpius' face of anger became a face of pity mixed with amusement.

"How did it-?" Scor started.

"It felt good." Al finished, grinning.

"It should've been me." He huffed.

"Nah, what are friends for?" said Al.

"For punching whiney sod's faces in." Scor said, wrapping an arm around Al's neck and heading toward the exit of the pitch. "For each other." He added, taking Max around the neck too.

Max put an arm around Rose and they all walked off the pitch together.

Scorpius had forgotten about his rage at Stewart and sat at the Gryffindor table eating eggs a couple days after. Al had gotten detention after Stewart went crying to the Professors. He had yet to serve it, his punishment having yet to be made. As always at this time, hundreds of owls came swooping in from an upper window to drop letters and packages among to students. Feathers were falling toward the food and Scorpius, who had been staring up, looking for something, got a handful of feathers in his eggs and pumpkin juice.

"Awe…" he said, picking the feathers out.

"You know to guard your food, Scor." Said Al, enjoying his feather free omelet.

"I'm just eager for our Quidditch results." He said, looking disappointed.

"You did great, Scor, I can almost guarantee you have a spot." Al assured him.

Quidditch captain, Keith, had for the past two years, taken notes on the try outs and not revealed to results on whose to make the team until a couple days of process. Rose thought that this was a good strategy though not being a very common one.

"Potter! Malfoy!" They looked up to see Keith walking up to them with two emerald green envelopes in his hand.

Scorpius' eyes lit up with excitement. "Hand delivering this year, are you?" said Al, tearing his open as Scor stared starry eyed at his.

"You two made the team." Said Keith, "Congrats. Last year I had delivered the letters to everyone who had tried out and that was a bad idea."

"Why?"

"Because the ones were sore about losing, took their anger out on those who made a spot. Wolin Warbeck was runner up to Trish Castkey, but she couldn't play because Iren Bolomskee sent her to the hospital wing."

Scor continued to stare at his letter, half excited, half terrified as Keith walked away.

"Oh, give me that." Said Rose, reaching over, tearing it open and putting it back in his hand. The note read,

Chasers- Olive Farmore

Alexander Pepsy

Zeak Andersen

Beaters- Scorpius Malfoy

Micheal Kennedy

Keeper- Paul Keith

Seeker- Albus Potter

Scorpius stood up and shook the letter in his hand as Rose laughed.

"Keith already said you made the team, why are you so surprised?"

"I'm gonna write to grandad!" Scorpius yelped. "He said I couldn't do it, well look at me now! Be right back!"

Al had just reached for the orange juice, but was startled to dropping it when a high, squeaky voice called, "Potter!" Al looked down to see Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, standing only tall enough for his head to meet Al's elbow.

"Yes, Professor?" asked Al.

"Your detention will be served tonight by the great lake. Meet me in the entrance hall by nine o'clock tonight. You will be de-littering the shore so bring something you don't mind getting wet, and don't bother bringing your wand, no magic allowed."

"Professor, can't I get a hearing? I don't see why I'm the only one getting detention." Al pleaded.

"Did you, or did you not punch Angelo Stewart in the nose."

"I did but-"

"And did he deserve it?"

"Yes…" said Al obviously.

"…Stupid question to ask, you wouldn't have punched him in the face if you didn't think he deserved it. No matter, you assaulted him. Fists and stones can break your bones, but words can never hurt you."

"That's the dumbest rhyme I've ever heard." Said Al. "Are we talking physically? Or emotionally? Because emotional abuse causes much more lasting damage than-"

"Enough, Potter!" Flitwick squeaked. "Tonight, entrance hall, nine o'clock!" and he turned to leave.

"You need to learn when to shut your mouth, Al." said Max.