ICN: I don't really see Astoria as being super snobby but I also don't see her as being THAT progressive, and Draco is Draco. So I think that Scorpius's upbringing would have been nice, but ultimately still quite traditional, pureblood superiority complex and all.

HAIR: light blond.

EYES: grey.

WAND: elm, dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter inches.

Scorpius Malfoy's dark silver eyes narrowed as he watched Damian Flint stomp his way up to Professor Vector. Damian was an utter troll, yes, but he was also the only friend Scorpius had in this school. He was a lot like Scorpius's Uncle Gregory, who was the thickest man he'd ever met. Sitting with Flint on the train had been mind-numbingly boring but still better than sitting alone and vulnerable, the only 'Death Eater Spawn' in his year. Flint was the only person on the train stupid enough to willingly hang out with the young Malfoy so if he didn't get into Slytherin, Scorpius was going to be very displeased indeed.

A smile curved the blond boy's pale lips as the Hat placed Flint in Slytherin. It wasn't much of a start, but it was a start nonetheless. With Flint onside he could start building up a social circle and begin the process of reinstating the Malfoys as worthy members of the Wizarding World. Scorpius was determined to make his father proud of their family once more, instead of perpetually worried that his son would be ostracised because of his surname. Perhaps it was a heavy task for an eleven-year-old, but Scorpius had felt nothing but proud when his usually mild-mannered mother had pulled him aside the previous week and instructed him to make sure he was popular and well-respected at Hogwarts, so that the other aristocratic children could take home favourable reports of the Malfoy child.

Twisting to watch his only friend plod to a seat at the green and silver table, Scorpius' eyes wandered back over the line of first-years behind him until they caught on a flash of bright red. The Weasley girl was staring at him, a calculating look on her tanned, ridiculously freckled face. Her flame-coloured hair was riotously messy, the voluminous waves and ringlets forming a wild cloud around her head and bouncing on her shoulders. A maroon velvet headband barely restrained – and clashed horribly with - the mass of colour threatening to tumble into her face. Scorpius disdainfully raised a light gold eyebrow at her, feeling uncomfortable with her perusal of his features. She blinked and blushed, clear blue eyes dropping to her neat black shoes. Satisfied with himself, Scorpius turned back to the front.

He must be sure to keep an eye on the Weasley girl… Rose, that was her name. She'd introduced herself at Hogsmeade station after she'd accidentally run straight into him, apparently being chased by an older-looking boy with untidy black hair and a wide grin. Stumbling back, Scorpius had said nothing but had glared at the girl when she'd immediately begun apologising.

"I'm so sorry, it's my cousin, he's such an idiot… oh. You're Scorpius Malfoy."

The older boy had shot Scorpius a look of deep mistrust and hovered behind his cousin protectively.

"Come on, Rose," he'd said loudly. "Al'll be having a panic attack if we don't find him before you have to get on the boats."

Rose hadn't even acknowledged his words but had given Scorpius, who was making an elaborate show of dusting himself off, a measuring look. Then she had stuck out her small hand, to Scorpius' surprise.

"My name's Rose Weasley and this-" she'd gestured behind her at the older boy "- is my cousin James Potter. It's nice to meet you."

Scorpius had shaken her hand gingerly, noting the warmth and softness of her skin and the complete lack of both in her words. She was still looking at him as if deciding how to cook him. He'd pulled his hand away and nodded slightly, aware that he couldn't afford to be anything but civil, even if his father had always spoken with barely-disguised scorn about the Weasley-Potter family.

He was jerked back to the present by a sharp poke in the back. Hurrying forward, his heart jumped nervously as he saw that he was only three places from the front of the line. Tapping his expensive shoes upon the worn stone floor, he wondered if the Hat would take long to put him in Slytherin. He guessed not. It was in his blood; besides, if the silly old thing tried to put him anywhere else he'd threaten it with an unravelling hex. He was sure he could do one if he tried, even if he hadn't used his wand yet. As long as he wasn't in Gryffindor, where the entire noxious Weasley-Potter clan undoubtedly resided. Although the Head Girl, so ethereally beautiful and luminous that he had briefly wondered if she was some kind of coloured ghost, had introduced herself at the station as Victoria Weasley or something like that and she had been a Hufflepuff.

One person to go. Scorpius smoothed back his hair as the boy in front of him was placed in Gryffindor, taking a deep breath before walking calmly forward even as Professor Vector called out his name. Ignoring the mutters that swept the vast room, he seated himself on the stool and kept his eyes fixed on the window at the opposite end of the hall. The Hat was as swift with its decision as Scorpius had been hoping.

"SLYTHERIN!"