Thanks so much for all the reviews you guys have left me so far! They're all really sweet and inspiring. I wasn't originally going to get this chapter done tonight, but the most recent one pushed me over the edge for motivation.
I also apologize for not updating sooner, but like I warned earlier, my updating may be a bit sparradic. Had a busy Wednesday.

Since the first moment that cursed hat had sat upon his blond head, Scorpius Malfoy knew he was looking at a dark and unpleasant future ahead for him at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The reality of his situation was so far off from what he had anticipated, so unbelievably stunning, that more than once he had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't a nightmare.

As the son of a pureblood and wealthy family, Scorpius already had his life thoroughly planned out from start to finish, and his time for education was predicted to be one of pleasantry. Similarly to how his father had it at Hogwarts, Scorpius would be arriving already with an entourage of acquaintances- who, no doubt, would quickly become friends; after all, it made sense he would most closely bond with those whom shared similar upbringings (something quietly encouraged by the parents). The advantage of pre-friendship in the making before he even arrived at school would help to secure his position in Slytherin house.

So, on the first of September, when the Hogwarts Express puffed eagerly in the station to depart with its compartments filled with eager students, Scorpius said a final goodbye to his parents, jumped aboard, and immediately began seeking out the other first-years that would no doubt be in the same house. It had been engrained in Scorpius's mind since early childhood that his placement at Hogwarts meant a great deal and could spell out his future in the magical world. His mother, Astoria (nee Greengrass) had always assured her son that per-arranging his friendships would work out best in the long run.

When the blond-haired boy did finally find the coupe containing barely-recognizable faces (naturally, his family having known most of theirs, they would have met at least one), he entered with a full confidence that he did indeed belong there. He remembered the dark-skinned boy in the corner was Geoffery Tarrabell, and the pale black-haired girl was Silicia Flint. The others remained vaguely familiar, although he had no recollection of the Asian-English kid on the far side of the compartment. The kids had accepted Scorpius without a word, making idle chit-chat among themselves on the long, boring ride to school. It was apparent that none of them were overly-eager to interact with each other, but all felt a sense of duty to do so. After all, they were all most definitely Slytherins, weren't they?

Scorpius began to grow more bored with his 'friends' by the minute. None of them struck him as particularly smart or interesting, having already pegged about half of them as rather dim-witted. If it had been his choice, he doubted he would have hung out around them, and (not for the first or last time) he quietly resented the sense of purpose his parents had thrust upon him. Scorpius still didn't understand, even after having it explained to him many times, exactly why it was so important that he arrive at Hogwarts with so many 'companions'. He didn't get how it would influence his life after school, but had never really challenged his parents on it. And yet, still, he continued to flare with indignation that he wasn't allowed to choose his own friends.

Control had never been much in Scorpius's hands. Draco and Astoria Malfoy told him that something would be this way, or that that would be another way- he would accept it as fact and continue on in life. Their favorite thing to do with their only son was to predict "with great accuracy" what would befall him on his way: Scorpius would be a Slytherin, just like them (and to be fair, he did show all the key characteristics of his parents' house), he would be a natural at potions, he would find a decent pure-blood witch, and of course, he would bring great honor to the name Malfoy.

It wasn't that his parents didn't love him- Scorpius knew that much. They wanted only the best for him; which, in their eyes, the best was Slytherin, alchemy, a pureblood wife, and honor. They did not stop to think about what it might be that their son wanted, and never had cause to worry due to his outward acceptance. But, gradually, over the years, the youngest Malfoy began growing bitter that he was expected to only follow the way paved in front of him. Deep inside the boy he craved honor, yes, but even to such a young child, he never could quite see what was so great about traveling a path already cut. He wanted to make his own way in life without the constant pressure of his parents to do it a certain way. Yet he would often push this away, as he strove for one other thing: the desire to make his parents proud.

Perhaps that is one of the things that the Sorting Hat saw inside Scorpius Malfoy, as he sat upon the stool in front of the crowded Great Hall later that evening.

The blond had reluctantly stayed with the group he had first met on the train, despite his increasing opinion that they were bordering on idiocy. None of them seemed able to hold an intelligent conversation. Of course, they had all tried; after all, they had had the same ideas drilled into their heads when they were young as Malfoy had, and they seemed to silently agree on a pact of "friendship" for their own beneficial gain. Yet Scorpius doubted he would be able to stick in their company for much longer. They were unbearable, and their choice topic of their pureblood was making him uncomfortable. While following the Second Wizarding War the Malfoy family had toned down their prejudice to blood purity, becoming (mostly) sincere in their regret; other families had not made such a change. Many simply buried their old morals and outdated beliefs deep, spoken only in the household and with trusted friends, to avoid confrontation with the new laws. The prejudice still lived on in their hearts, and therefore, in their children.

When Scorpius was called to sit upon the stool for his sorting, he felt neither nervous nor particularly excited, a knowing smirk of confidence plastered on his face for the benefit of his new 'friends' watching from the Slytherin table. He, similarly to Rose Weasely, just wanted to get it over with, but for entirely different reason. Everyone knew he would be in his parents' house.

"What have we here?" a rough voice muttered in his ears and the hat touched his pale head. "Interesting, very interesting...not what one would immediately assume..."

Scorpius was feeling his confidence slowly drain away, as if he were a water balloon someone had pricked with a needle. His father had told him numerous times of his own sorting ceremony, and how the hat had known exactly where to put him the moment it had touched his head; his son, then, was certain it would be the same for him. The blond felt a slight flash of resentment, remembering how it had been decided by everyone since he was little that he would be in the house of green and silver.

A warm chuckle filled his head. "Quite different from your father, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean," he replied in a flat whisper. "Just put me in Slytherin so I can get this done and over."

"Slytherin?" the voice replied, sounding faintly surprised, "Is that really where you wish to go?"

Scorpius could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. "Yes."

"Your lips affirm, but your heart and mind do not concur," it rasped back. "Do you know why I have been chosen for this duty? Arguably one of the most important charges of this school, sorting students into their correct houses? I was created by the makers of Hogwarts themselves. I was made to read the truths inscribed on the beating hearts and pulsing minds of each of the millions of eleven year-olds that have worn me. And, in your own self, I see you are ready to deny so that you may fit where you have told you belong."

Despite his growing sense of dread at the hat's words, Scorpius could not help but once again feel bitter that, as it had said, he was expected to do what was expected of him. He was suppose to just lie down and simply accept that his parents would always control his life, past, present, and future. The young Malfoy was tired of being told who he was. But at the same time, he had always believed them. "I want to be in Slytherin," he argued. Even if he wasn't necessarily happy with his family's plans for his life, he still thought that it would be the house for him. It was the best house, where only the smartest and ambitious of students went. It was his heritage. It was where his people were. It was where he belonged.

"I tell you now," the hat continued, "you are not who everyone believes you to be, and I have a feeling you don't quite know yourself as well as you think. You are ambitious, yes, and cunning. But your greatest attributes are not those of Slytherin house: you are daring with nerve. You wish to cut your own path in life, not take the easy way, something that takes great courage if you wish to distance yourself from your family."

"But I'm not brave! I'm not daring!"

"Deny it all you wish with your lips, Malfoy, we both know how you really feel. Trust me now, you'll do great in Gryffindor!"

Scorpius didn't remember what happened after that very clearly. He knew he must have stumbled down from the steps in blind shock, not taking notice of the astonished crowd, as he made his way to the table under the scarlet and gold banner. He didn't hear the half-hearted clapping, or see the appalled faces of the Slytherin table. He didn't notice the two foot radius suddenly between him and his neighbors. He didn't pay attention to the sudden appearance of the feast at the end of the ceremony, or that he was largely ignored at the festivities.

He didn't notice any of it, because after eleven years of being told how great of a Slytherin he'd make, he now sat in the rivaling house.

"Hi."

Scorpius snapped out of his recollection of how he got into such a mess by the friendly greeting. Frowning, he looked up from his empty silver plate to see an amicable face smiling back. He recognized the short, black-haired boy as one of the ones usually hanging around Weasely and Potter.

"What do you want?" he snapped at the character. He was painfully aware of how public the Slytherin's rejection of him was and still wasn't quite over it. It had been Scorpius's hope that, despite his strange placement in house, he could continue being 'friends' with the other kids he had met on the train. Surely they saw as clearly as he did that the Sorting Hat was utterly crazy to put him in Gryffindor? He thought, maybe, that if he made an effort to still hang around them, they would see that he disliked his placement as much as they did. Yet ever since his sorting, the first-year Slytherins had been nothing but intolerable to him (purposely, this time). At first they had appeared to play along, pretending that Scorpius was indeed part of their little pact. But as the weeks went on, he began noticing little things: they wouldn't let him sit at the Slytherin table (in case Gryffindor got the wrong idea, they assured Scorpius at the time), they would purposely speed up when walking in a group so he couldn't catch up (they didn't want to be late for class, they had said, it was nothing personal), and of course, he always ended up doing all the work in team projects (only because he was so great at everything, and they didn't want to be a burden). It had taken a few months, but gradually Scorpius was realizing that he was being played. The final straw had been when Silicia Flint tried to sabotage his potions work and then take credit for the success (everyone knew her father, Marcus Flint, was a charlatan). Despite this, he kept desperately hoping that they'd come to accept him despite his house. It had only been when they had all publicly labeled him as a "traitor" a few minutes ago that he gave up hope.

The boy across from him shrugged. "I just realized I'd never properly met you. Name's Nick, by the way. Nick Renskallius."

Scorpius eyed the offered hand warily. He had the sneaking suspicion that Nick's sudden friendly advances had something to do with what had just happened, and he didn't want anybody's pity. Yet, he also realized, there wasn't much reason not to accept what was being offered; he had no remaining chance with Slytherin, and surely his parents wouldn't think too badly at befriending a Ravenclaw? "Scorpius Malfoy," he answered decisively, shaking his hand.

"Nicely met. You're that guy with the reputation for a potion master, aren't you? I've heard a lot of great things about your ability."

It was not in Scorpius's nature to blush, but he came damn near. "Er, I wouldn't exactly call me a master. My dad's dabbled in alchemy and potions for years, so I kind of picked up some tricks from him when I use to watch him in his office."

"Hmm, can't say I can relate. My dad's just a software developer- successful, but not quite as flashy as a magical alchemist. Guess that comes with being muggleborn."

Alarm bells rang in the Malfoy's head at the word muggleborn. His parents might have toned down their prejudice from their younger years, and yes, became more tolerable, but there still lingered a small sense of superiority at the idea of having only magical blood. Scorpius was brought up around fellow pure-bloods or half-bloods, and he couldn't deny that that sense of higher being had been passed on. Then his thoughts turned rebellious. I was always instructed to only interact with Slytherins and family friends, and that didn't exactly turn out swimmingly. He silenced the ringing bells in his mind; Nick may have been muggleborn, but he certainly seemed like a better personality than Scorpius's former attempts at friendship. Besides, Astoria and Draco Malfoy didn't need to know about the circumstances of Nick's birth.

As Scorpius had been wrestling with his childhood morals, the Ravenclaw had rambled on. "I've got five younger brothers, you know. No clue if they'll have magical abilities like me or not, but I have a inkling that Jared might. He gets into all sorts of trouble, y'know, and once I could have sworn he was behind Mom's meatloaf burning in the oven- not that any of us minded, her meatloaf tastes like muck from the bottom of the Black Sea..."

Nick continued to digress, doing most of the talking. Scorpius, who was more of a listener anyways, paid rapt attention to the strange stories his new-found acquaintance told about growing up in the muggle world. The blond would ask clarifying questions every now and then, just to make sure Nick knew that he was listening, while he helped himself to a peanut-butter and banana sandwich. He didn't notice then, but for the first time since his sorting, Scorpius's appetite had returned.

Even though it was well-since dark outside, it was only eight o'clock in the evening. As most students were still down in the Great Hall for dinner, Scorpius had the entire Gryffindor common room to himself, and took full advantage of it. Despite his misgivings, he had to admit that the chamber was indeed very cozy, and there was no better place to do Charms homework than in one of the desks close to the fire. He had never seen the Slytherin common room, but he couldn't understand how it could be any more welcoming. Malfoy was still adamant that he had been put in the wrong house, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to enjoy some peace and quiet that it offered.

He was almost finished writing a half-scroll length essay on why correct wand posture was important when there was the distinctive creak of the Fat Lady portrait swinging open. It was followed by a loud babbling of arguing voices entering the common room.

"James, of all the stupid, idiotic things you've ever done, this is it!"

"How do you even know? It's not like I've done it yet. And sorry, I can't bring any particular failures to mind- all my plans are brilliant!"

Albus and James Potter stumbled into the room, looking as if they were in an intense argument. Behind them, two first-year girls trailed, looking vaguely irritated, with Joseph Finnigan grinning in amusement from the archway. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to Scorpius at his solitary corner desk.

"Come on, James, just think this through!" The blond recognized the curly red-head instantly as the Weasely girl, Rose.

"This is well-thought through!" the oldest Potter shouted, stamping one foot childishly. "Tell them, Joe!"

The tall, dark-haired boy seemed to find the situation highly amusing. "He's right. We've been planning this since early September, and we're certain we can get away scot-clean. There's no reason for you guys to be worried. We're professionals, remember?"

"Exactly."

"Professionals?" McMoore snorted from Rose's side, "Is that why you've gotten seventy-three detentions since you first set foot in Hogwarts? Well done, boys, slow clap to you. You put the great Fred and George Weasely to shame with your antics."

Joe didn't seem to pick up on the sarcasm. "Thanks, we'll take it as a compliment."

"Please, James," Albus pleaded with his brother, "I don't want you getting expelled. Sneaking into the sealed-off dungeons is a suicide mission!"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow at that, hoping the present company wouldn't notice his presence a little longer so that he could continue to eavesdrop. Unfortunately, he was out of luck. At that moment, Rose Weasely noticed the pale blond hair at the edge of her vision. The fierce red-head narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she accused, bringing the others' attention to the lone figure.

"Uh, studying?" He met her challenging blue eyes with his silver. "This is the Gryffindor common room, is it not? And last time I checked, I am a Gryffindor."

Rose snorted. "Oh please. You've been disowning this house since you got sorted into it. Everyone knows you wanted to be a Slytherin, and ever since we got stuck with you, you've been doing your best to ignore your housemates!"

There was a brief moment of awkward silence as the Malfoy and Weasely glared at each other from across the room. Then Scorpius slammed his charms book shut. "Fine," he declared dramatically, rolling up his essay, "You can have the room. I was going to head to bed anyways." He made his way up the stairs, trying his best to appear dignified.

"By the way," he added on the catwalk as he headed for the boys' dormitories, "Next time you lot want to discuss illegitimate plans to get yourself expelled, try checking around to make sure nobody overhears you. Then you won't have to chase anyone out, praying they keep their silence."

He noted with satisfaction the guilty look on Weasely's face before he slammed the door.

Merlin, what an annoying family, he thought as he made his way up the boys' stairs to the first-years' dorms. It wasn't his fault that they had been too stupid to check a room before bursting in, exclaiming what he assumed was top-secret plans. Once again, he questioned his placement in Gryffindor- they had no sense of natural cunning when it came to these things.

He gladly realized that none of his roommates were back yet, so he'd be able to finish his homework without much disruption. The other boys were okay enough, but clearly felt uncomfortable around him. Salix was a small, skinny boy who seemed terrified of Scorpius and had the bed directly opposite his own. Vincent seemed like a typical Gryffindor air-head. Gavin didn't strike the Malfoy as particularly fascinating, although he was obsessed with Quidditch. The only one he had a hard time figuring out was John, who occupied the bed furthest from the door. He seemed a nice chap, but rarely interacted with the other three roommates and didn't spend much time in the dorms or common room. In fact, Scoprius was pretty sure he'd only heard him talk twice: once when he claimed his bed on their first might at Hogwarts, and again when the boys were getting too rowdy too late at night and John had shouted at them to shut up.

Pushing thoughts of his roommates out of his mind, Scorpius went to sit by the window. The glass was long and reached to floor level, offering a beautiful vista of the grounds and lake. The blond would never admit it to his family, but one of the best parts of Gryffindor was the view it offered; the more he thought on it, the more Scorpius was sure he would never have gotten use to the dark, murky underwater scene offered by the Slytherin windows. He liked living in the tower- if offered a sense of security while still feeling warm and welcoming.

As he contemplated the comparisons between life under the Snake versus the Lion, a familiar figure glided in the now-opened window with a soft chrrr. "Hey Nocorta," he murmured as he stroked the eagle owl's stiff back feathers. The aviary blinked slowly in response, nestling closer to the boy he had come to know and bond with in the past three years.

Scorpius only just noticed the small envelope in the large owl's beak, and he felt his heart rate speed up. He'd recognize the neat scrawl of his mother anywhere if the Malfoy family seal hadn't been a dead giveaway. The first-year felt exceedingly nervous, recalling what he had been telling his parents in his previous letters over the past several months. He turned the neat envelope over in his hands twice, examining the ornately written Scorpius H. Malfoy at the front address.

He sighed deeply, tucking the letter under the pillow on his bed behind him. Scorpius wasn't in the mood to read his mother's overly-cheerful messages, certainly filled with sickeningly-sweet praise he did nothing to merit. I'll read it and reply soon enough, he promised himself silently, but not right now. He was in higher spirits than he had been in months, thanks to his new friend, and was not eager to spoil it so soon.

Instead, he opened up his charms book to where he had left off so he could continue his homework in the early-evening moonlight.

There ends Chapter 4!

I know it's a bit shorter than the others so far (500 words less), but I felt like all the new information that came with this chapter would make up for it. We got a lot more background on what's been going on with Scorpius since he arrived- and if you're upset that I left out some things (like his thoughts when he first met Rose and Albus on the trains, among other things), fret not! Those will also be revisited, just not here and now.

Nick's a pretty friendly and optimistic character, so I'm glad he of all people was the one to finally approach Scorpius. I felt like if it was anyone else, including Albus or Rose, it would have felt too forced, too much like I'm trying to hurry up and get them to be friends. For now, they just share a mutual friend.

And keep an eye on John- he plays important parts later down the line.

Also, sorry if my writing came off as an attitude of Slytherins all being stupid and stuff- that's just Scorpius being a bit high and mighty. I'm actually a Slytherin myself!

Make sure to pop off a review before you hit the back button!