Chapter 1: A beginning of sorts

This story will begin where most of these stories tend to begin, on Platform 9 3/4. I felt extremely relieved when I saw the Potters on the other side of the station. I was already in my robes because I loved how I felt in them, like an intellectual, like I was about to embark on some kind of grand adventure. Albus was nervous about Hogwarts and being sorted but I was brimming with confidence and impatience for it all to begin. I couldn't wait to start learning actual magic.

That day was the day the family officially found out about Victoire and Teddy. James had caught them snogging and, I believe, he was the only one who was actually surprised. I firmly maintain that James is an emotionally stunted troll. I, for one, had suspected that they'd been seeing each other all summer.

A small note on Vic and Ted's relationship: they were really very close friends since childhood but I think Ted was the one who'd always had a bit of a crush on her. Vic was very gentle and good-natured, but rather thick. I recall my mother comparing her to Jane Bennett of the Austinian breed and after I'd read Pride and Prejudice, I was inclined to agree. Ted and Vic were romantic in the way Jane and Bingley were, it was a candy floss type of romance.

James was teasing Al, as per usual. Lily was being loud, as per usual.

Al was abnormally pale. I looped my arm reassuringly through his and glared nastily at James. I was offered nothing but a cheeky wink in return. It was only Dom, Al and I being sorted that year. At that point, Vic, James, Molly and Fred were already at school. Out of our group, "the second round" of Weasley-Potter brood, I was the most anticipated at arrival, daughter of two of the golden trio. James and Vic had already spearheaded the constant trickle of Weasley-Potter kids, which would continue for the next 10 years.

My father, noting someone on the platform, placed his arms protectively around my shoulders as Uncle Harry pulled Al quietly aside.

"Rosie," he whispered conspiratorially, motioning his head in the direction of a thin, pasty boy with white blonde hair, "You need to beat him in every exam."

I rolled my eyes, at the disownment jokes, and pecked my father affectionately on the cheek. I was indifferent to leaving my family at the time. Maybe because I was to be surrounded by so many cousins and friends, but the parting didn't leave me feeling lacking in the least.

It seemed as though Uncle Harry had properly assuaged Al's fears because despite James's insistent taunting, Al boarded the steam engine with steady features.

Everyone remembers his or her first train ride. James and Fred ditched their friends to join us, which was a blessing and a curse. I was not exaggerating when I said that we stuck together, no matter what. Despite their unwavering immaturity, Fred and James were not too cool for their baby cousins and siblings. While looking for a compartment, Hedgewick Eckles, attempted to make a snide comment about the profusion of itty baby Weasley-Potters and James, very smoothly might I add, punched him in the face hard enough to knock him out, before entering his compartment of choice.

Hogwarts was, as it has always been, enchanting. The castle, silent and strong against the inky backdrop of the clear night sky, seemed to have a personality of its own. It was as though we were being welcomed back to a place we'd never left.

Everything was a blur. We were lead across the Great Lake by dear, Hagrid. We were welcomed in by Deputy Headmaster Sinclair and ushered into the Great Hall. Professor Sinclair was a tall, thin man with icy blue eyes. In his welcome he was brusque and professional, and perhaps a tad disgruntled. He seemed the grumpy sort, the kind to be put out my anything remotely associated with human contact, but I remember thinking he wasn't a bad fellow or a mean person.

I barely registered the Sorting Hat's song and the sorting began. I watched as my friends Fiona Finnegan and Alice Longbottom were sorted into Gryffindor. Fiona's three older brothers whooped and cheered loudly and Professor Longbottom shot his daughter an ostentatious thumbs up sign.

It's almost ironic that the first Slytherin to get sorted that year was Scorpius Malfoy. A hush fell over the Great Hall when his name was called, some people managed to hiss before Headmistress Jones shot a piercing glare into the crowd.

Scorpius appeared as though he heard nothing of the mumblings. His gray eyes were blank as he pulled the black, tattered hat over his head. It took a nerve-rackingly long time for the sorting hat to let out a booming "SLYTHERIN".

A majority of the students jeered as Scorpius made his way down to the Slytherin table. It shocked me, how much smaller their table was in comparison to the other three, how much quieter they were in their half hearted, polite applause. Most sat up straight, many wore haughty, cold expressions, some leered right back at the offenders.

I noted, with a generous degree of righteous anger, that James lead the jeering, the hissing, the nasty whispering. I remember being angry. I couldn't believe that James was really so cruel, so hateful as to torment a first year who had done nothing to him. I felt sorry for the Malfoy boy.

That was the first time that I saw the cruelty James was capable of.

Immediately after Scorpius his cousin, Eleanor Nott, was called to the Sorting Hat. She strode with purpose and confidence, a haughty arrogance twisting her pretty features. The hat took merely a few seconds to put her into Slytherin. Eleanor was exceptionally, breathtakingly beautiful. She smiled defiantly at those who were taunting her, and she marched to her table with her head held high. I respected Eleanor Nott.

I could feel Dominique tensing in anger in front of me. Her best friend, the youngest Flint boy who was a year or two ahead of us, was a Slytherin. It seemed as though he had never told her of this, of the utter absurdity of this kind of situation. I took hold of her robes in warning. Dom was the type to act out rashly and she didn't need a stain on her reputation before she had even been sorted.

In any case, we had no time to dwell on the injustice of it all, for Al had finally been called up to the Sorting hat. The applause and cheers that rang at the sound of his name were deafening. James sat with a look of the utmost pride on his handsome features. Despite his merciless taunting, he had not a doubt in his mind that Al would join him in Gryffindor.

The hat took an agonizingly long time, even longer than with Scorpius. I began to feel a tingle a fear; Dom had clutched my hand. Everyone in the hall was looking uncomfortable except for James who continued to grin confidently at his younger brother.

"SLYTHERIN"

The entire Great Hall went deathly still. Not a breath could be heard. Al, with the utmost serenity in his vivid, green eyes, placed the hat on the stool and made his way to the Slytherin table. No one jeered, no one hissed. How could they? This was their leader's brother. Al went completely unscathed. Thelonius Flint shared a look with Dominique and immediately stood to welcome Al and offer him a seat beside him, next to Scorpius Malfoy and across from Eleanor Nott.

The fear gripped me, icy and consuming. Dom held my hand tighter. I immediately turned to face James. The grin on his face was fading quickly. His eyes were hard, his jaw was clenched. Fred, his right hand man, was visibly stunned. He was open-mouthed, his jaw completely slack and he was eyeing James with trepidation. I turned to Molly at the Ravenclaw table, James and Fred's girl. Again, she was turned toward James with the same expression as Fred. She was tense, as though bracing herself for a particularly terrible storm.

Only Vic, dear, sweet Vic, was smiling and clapping enthusiastically for Albus, flashing him an encouraging wave of her hand, completely oblivious to the sure disaster that was to be this year.

I barely noticed, I barely cared that Dom and I were sorted into Gryffindor. It was a relief when the final girl, Soledad Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin. At that moment I just wanted to be with Al. I cared for nothing else. I didn't want him to be alone with strangers. I wanted him to be with his family. I wanted to get to him before James did.

I ate nothing that first night. It seemed that James did not either.

Outside the Great Hall, it took the combined efforts of Fred as well as Brendan, Patrick and John Finnegan to stop James from marching over to the Slytherin table.

"Lemmego," he kicked, "I just want to talk to my damned, brother, what on earth is the big deal?"

I walked over to them.

"James," I shouted, grabbing onto his arm, "James, you need to calm down."

The look on his face startled me in that moment. James looked wounded, he looked lost.

"I didn't mean what I said," he mumbled, "I was just taking the mickey out of him, like I always do, I was going to congratulate him. I was just teasing."

I could see James's fantasy. The hat would have called Gryffindor. Al would make his way to a roaring and supportive table. James would have thrown his arms around Al. Al would have been glowing with happiness. They would have been the Potter brothers, the pride of Hogwarts.

All that was dashed.

"James!" I called urgently. The boys deemed it safe to let go of him, now that the first years had already been lead out of the Great Hall, "James, this isn't some sort celestial punishment! He's still Al. He'll always be Al! He's just in different house! So are Molly and Vic!"

James eyes hardened into steel. I knew then that this ordeal was going to be significantly more painful than it needed to be. When James became that way, there was no getting through to him. He was gone.

"Mol and Vic aren't snakes." James's voice was deceptively soft. He broke away from us and stalked away without a backward glance.

The Finnegan brothers gave each other looks, before clapping Fred on the back, smiling at me and heading toward the Gryffindor tower. I think Fred understood my trepidation, because he put a hand on my hair.

"Don't worry yourself, Rosie," his smile was strained, "you know how pig-headed James can be, but he doesn't stay mad very long."

I didn't voice my fears aloud. I didn't tell Fred that I had the very terrible feeling that this time would be very different.

Up in the first year girl's dorm, the other girls were very very quiet. Dom and I shared the dorm with Fiona Finnegan, Alice Longbottom, and Jacquetta Pole, a muggle born who was completely lost as to what had just transpired. She was the only one feeling particularly chatty.

"What on earth happened?" she asked incredulously, over and over again, until Dom snapped at her to shut up.

When all the other girls had settled into the gentle, rhythmic breathing of sleep, Dom slipped out of her bed to wriggle into mine. Accustomed to this sort of intimacy, I threw an arm around her my eyes still closed.

"S'matter, Dom?"

She was quiet for a few minutes, "Al and James will be alright, won't they?"

"I think so," I murmured, "It might take a while, and it might get a whole lot worse before it gets better, but I think those idiots love each other, and, no matter how stupid James is, he's not going to let a bloody house banner get in between family."

Dom fell into a peaceful sleep afterwards. I stayed awake for quite a bit longer.

The next morning, if the other girls found it strange for us to wake up in bed together, they said nothing. If anything, Jacquetta looked almost envious of our affection.

Despite priding myself on being one of the more level-headed people in our family, I was ready to sprint to Al when I saw him at breakfast. It was Dom who put the steadying hand on my arm.

"Do not make this seem more dramatic than it is, Rosie," she warned, "It will only make Al feel worse, and confirm James notion that this is a disaster."

I nodded, took a deep breath and marched squarely toward the Slytherin table. For all my belief in letting by gone be by gones and not judging books by their cover or their parent's history, the Slytherins were an intimidating bunch. They looked almost battle-hardened; there was a toughness to them that I did not notice in the other students. They looked much much older.

Only Al brightened upon seeing us. The others, not so much. Eleanor Nott looked as though something particularly distasteful had interrupted her breakfast, Soledad Zabini gave us an appraising look. Vespasien Vaisey recoiled. Scorpius Malfoy frowned.

The older students sneered, there were a few catcalls directed at Dom. I think, had it not been for Thelonius Flint, there may have been a serious issue. He shoved the offending cat caller into his porridge and every one else clammed up after that. Thelonius was a terrifying third year. He was as big as most of the seventh year boys, if not bigger. Broad-shouldered and muscular, no one dared cross him. Dom smiled brightly as he made room for her at the table. I felt secure knowing that, at the very least, Thelonius would look out for Al, for Dom's sake.

Al's smile was tight, and he had dark circles under his eyes, as though he had not slept the night before. My heart ached, seeing him like that.

"Hullo, Al." I greeted cautiously as I took the seat next to him.

"Hullo, Rosie."

"Rosie?"

"Yeah, Al?"

The poor boy looked as though he were about to cry, "Does James hate me?"

In that moment, I wanted to slug James Potter in the face, for making Al look like that.

"Al, James loves you." I spoke firmly, "James will always love you. He may be a total arse for the next few months, but he'll never hate you."

Dom, who was sitting on Al's other side, gave me a look. James was glaring at us from the Gryffindor table, as though warning us to go back and sit amongst our own. I, for one, stuck my tongue out at him. I can't be too sure but Dom may have offered him a rude gesture when Al wasn't looking. Soledad laughed and Eleanor's disdainful expression was quickly wiped off her face.

I didn't like having them think we were divided, and despite everything, I didn't want them to think themselves better than James. I didn't share in Soledad's laughter and Dom gave Eleanor a hard stare, her warning not going unnoticed.

We were allowed to mess with each other; outsiders, were not. We stuck together.

We ate breakfast with Al every morning, as though nothing was wrong. The Slytherins became accustomed to us to an extent, although they had no idea what we were after. It didn't go unnoticed by the other houses, though.

"Why don't you eat with us?" Jacquetta, christened Jackie by Dom, asked one evening. She was sitting upside down, her feet dangling over the edge of the couch in the Gryffindor common room. She didn't' seem offended that we were never around, the girl was a tad dense and blunt as a rock and I think that Dom, especially, respected her for her straightforwardness.

"We want to eat with our cousin," I replied simply, scratching my nose with the end of my quill.

"Albus?" she questioned, straightening up, "Why doesn't he come eat with us? Isn't James his brother?"

I sighed. It was immensely difficult attempting to relay hundreds of years of bad blood between the two houses, to someone who had not a clue what was going on.

She seemed to understand, however, that the problem was with Al's house.

"What the hell is the big deal?" she threw up her arms in exasperation, "so they used to hate muggleborns, so the hell what? It's not like they still do."

To an extent, she was right. Muggleborns had been integrated so well into society after the war it was as though a conflict had never existed. Bullying of muggleborns or any one for their parentage was severely frowned upon.

"I don't know, Jackie. I really don't know."

Despite all of the drama swirling around me, school was everything I'd hoped it would be. I loved my courses and I loved my professors. I didn't try very hard to make friends. I didn't need them. I had Dom and Al. Although James was mad I still had him. I had Fred and Molly and Vic. I read everything I could get my hands on. I wasn't a particularly social person. If I wasn't with my family, or doing homework, I was curled up by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, a thick tome firmly in my grasp.

Although I enjoyed all of my courses, my favorite course, by far, was Transfiguration. Despite his abysmal outlook on life, Professor Sinclair was a phenomenal professor. The course was challenging but I flourished and, despite acting as though he couldn't give a damn, I knew I was Professor Sinclair's favorite, his best and his brightest.

The fact that I was arguably the brightest witch in my year, coupled with my very public meals with Slytherin house and my indifference made me a tad unpopular with my peers. They would never outright bully me for fear of Fred and James but adoring fans certainly never did surround me.

Dom had no such social problem. Although she was my girlfriend first and foremost, she was also the beloved princess of Gryffindor house. Beautiful, charming and charismatic, her Slytherin meals and her friendship with Thelonius Flint were overlooked.

"You should really try harder to make friends, Rosie," she murmured to me one night, as she played with my hair.

I hummed a noncommittal response.

"I'm serious!" she insisted, "You're so funny and lovely and no one knows!"

When I continued to ignore her, she rose to her feet and dragged over Fiona, Alice and Jackie.

"Do you ladies think that Rosie is a frigid bitch?"

There was a moment of strained, awkward silence.

"Not really," Jackie shrugged, "she's just quiet, no need to get your panties in a twist."

Dom glared as I snorted, "Go home, Jackie."

Alice and Fiona, darlings that they were, also shrugged noncommittally. Dom literally threw her arms up in exasperation.

"It's true you're not very popular," Alice conceded, "Especially amongst Gryffindor house which is a shame really, but as along as they're not bothering you, I think you'll be alright."

"You're James's cousin," Fiona added, "No one will dare say anything, but you've sort of been branded a house traitor."

I rolled my eyes. People were ridiculous and I didn't give nargle's ass if people thought me a traitor or whatever. I'd known Fiona and Alice for years now, so they certainly didn't think any less of me for sticking with Al or being the neurotic bookworm that I'd always been. My cousins had my back no matter what, so I could care less what anyone thought of me.

It was in that first year that Scorpius Malfoy solidified his reputation as my academic rival. Although I bested him in Transfiguration and Potions, he was my better in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. He was as hungry for knowledge as I was. He was an actual, viable threat to my number one spot, but that was the extent of my perception of him.

Although I was regularly eating with Al, as soon as I entered the vicinity Scorpius Malfoy didn't speak a work. Al, who seemed to have a taken a liking to the boy, always tried to entice him to conversation but the boy became mute when I was around.

"I don't understand," Al sighed as we made our way to Potions, "I really think the two of you would get along, I don't know why he's so frightened of you."

Eleanor Nott had a theory.

"You're such a princess, Scorp," I heard her speaking one day, as I was leaving the Slytherin table, "Never knew you to get tongue-tied over a pretty girl."

"Rose Weasley?" the incredulity in his voice left me highly offended, "Please, I have standards."

I didn't understand the vehemence in his voice at that time, nor did I witness the flush on his cheeks. I went very quickly from respecting him as an academic rival, to all out loathing him. Although I'd never really considered myself drop-dead gorgeous like Dom, I certainly had enough pride to be offended by Scorpius's impassioned dismissal of me. And there was nothing more dangerous that a Weasley who's pride had been wounded.

As the first few weeks of school passed, James's silence was leaving all of us on edge.

"He hasn't said a word to me, not one," Al mumbled miserably into his Charms textbook.

I patted him sympathetically on the head, "He'll come around. What are you complaining about? I think it's a miracle that James hasn't thrown a hissy fit yet."

"Exactly!" Al shouted. The librarian, Madam Masters, promptly threw a book at the back of his head. Al let out a muffled yelp and quickly turned around to glare at the smiling, elderly woman.

Madam Masters was by far my favorite person, snarky, sassy million-year-old bat that she was. I don't think I've ever heard her say a word. To get people to shut up in the library, she threw things at them, didn't matter what. Peeves adored her. Students were a tad frightened of her.

Al reoriented himself, before he turned back to me, a woeful expression on his handsome features.

His voice was so soft I had to lean in to hear him, "That's the point, Rosie."

The pain in his green eyes was wrenching, "It's like he's disowned me, it's like I don't exist."

I sat there gaping at him like a fish, completely at a loss for words. It took a minute for me to formulate a response.

"Well," I started slowly, "there's no way this armistice is going to last for long, he's bound to confront you at some point and I don't know if you'll be prepared. It's bound to get ugly."

Al grunted, pushing his textbook away listlessly, "Anything's better than this damned waiting."

Fred and Molly were equally concerned.

"He hasn't spoken a word to me about it," Molly confided, "No matter how much I prod. He's getting scary Rose, he's not himself."

Her blue eyes were clouded over with worry, Fred placed a comforting arm around her shoulder, but his voice was equally tight, "He hasn't been speaking much to either of us, he's preparing for Quidditch tryouts like an absolute animal. We don't know what he's going to do, Rosie."

It wasn't as though James was rude to either Dom or myself. He still called out to us in the hallways and he still greeted us coolly in the common room, but he didn't joke anymore, he didn't laugh. It was as though he'd lost his spark and it was unnerving.

It was true that that year both James and Fred were trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. To my surprise, both Al and Scorpius were trying out for the Slytherin team.

"How is that even fair?" Dom grumbled as we made our way to Herbology, "First years aren't allowed to tryout."

I shrugged, "Slytherin house is so small that the rule doesn't apply to them."

It was true. The year we were sorted there were only three boys and two girls sorted into Slytherin. The year before that only three people total were sorted. Slytherin house was shrinking fast.

A week before the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts, I stumbled upon James fighting with Vic.

"You have to stop this, James," Vic was near tears, "everyone's worried about you. Al misses you! You need to snap out of it!"

I'd been under the impression that Vic was unaware of the family drama going on, but she clearly wasn't so thick as to not notice the change in James. It was radical.

James, however, brushed past her, without so much a wor.

It was only when it was announced that Al and Scorpius made the Slytherin Quidditch team, did James snap.

A/N: So, I know I haven't updated this in two years. But, I don't know, I came across this draft and the inspiration just exploded. I don't know if anyone is still reading this, but reviews are always awesome! Please don't fave without reviewing :(

Best,

Nanaho-hime