ICN: It's odd but I seem to have a habit of shipping the children of my non-ships. I don't ship dramione but I ship scorose, and I don't really ship nuna but for some reason I ship Lyse with Neville's daughter Daisy. Only once he's in like seventh year though.

HAIR: blond.

EYES: grey.

WAND: hawthorn, unicorn hair, twelve and a half inches.

Lysander Scamander was trying very hard to appreciate the beauty of the Great Hall, but he was a little too wound up to do so properly. As always, what should have been an enjoyable time was overshadowed by having to pull his clueless brother out of trouble; in this case, literally, as he'd yanked Lorcan out of that train compartment just moments before that Slytherin boy had cast a hex at the doorway.

He was confronted with the object of his thoughts as Lorcan's hair, longish and blond like his own, was shaken back so it tickled the end of Lysander's nose. Wrinkling it up with irritation, he whispered an admonition to his brother, who turned and smiled at him. Lorcan started to speak in a clear, carrying voice and Lysander hastened to shush him, hating the stares they were attracting. That was all he needed, to be branded a weirdo before he'd even met anyone.

Lorcan looked back up at the ceiling and Lysander glanced up too, knowing that his twin was probably playing the old cloud game their mother used to entertain them with. Lysander had always tried to join in with everything his mother and brother did, but despite his mother's affection for both of her sons, it was clear to everyone that she understood Lorcan better. In recent years Lysander had gravitated far more towards his father, who was eternally understanding and seemed to sympathise with both boys equally. Sighing, Lysander looked back down and saw that there was a space in front of his brother.

"Lorcan, move!" he hissed furiously. "Stop staring at the ceiling and pay attention, alright?"

He saw Lorcan's shoulders move in a sigh but he did as he was told, gazing around the Hall instead. Relaxing slightly, Lysander followed suit. He immediately looked towards the Gryffindor table, as his favourite colour was red and they had it in abundance.

His eye was caught by even more red; a girl he recognised from the group of Hogwarts students he had met at that Burrow gathering was sat there. She looked to be in her late teens – maybe a seventh-year? – and was quite pretty, with an abundance of curling red hair pulled over one shoulder in a thick, slightly messy plait, and a grin on her heavily freckled face. She was smiling at the student next to her, a younger, dark-skinned girl with even curlier hair than the redhead, who was gesturing wildly as she spoke. She appeared to be wearing Ravenclaw robes; even as he watched, she waved a merry farewell, swung her legs over the bench seat and hurried back to the blue and bronze table. Now that Lysander came to think of it, he recognised both girls. His eyes wandered across the other tables and he saw another redhead, this time at the Hufflepuff table, perhaps even prettier than the other one; certainly better-groomed, with neat hair and carefully applied make-up. Lysander definitely remembered that girl, as he had met her more than once and she was always very bubbly and friendly. He pointed her out to Lorcan, who took a moment to respond:

"Oh, yes, Lily Potter. She was nice. She's a fifth-year, I think. You know, I believe she said for us to sit with her on the train."

Lysander felt the familiar fury bubble up at the knowledge that Lorcan had left something so useful out of their many discussions about where to sit on the train. Why did his brother have to be so frustrating? Knowing even as he did so that he would never get anywhere with Lorcan, he whispered a tirade of accusatory words and questions at his twin, who merely looked confused and hurt. Thankfully, the boy behind them pointed out that there was, yet again, a space in front of them. Lysander nudged his brother into it and inhaled slowly, fuming but unwilling to get into an argument.

"I've told you before," he whispered after a pause. "You need to have your wits about you now, otherwise you'll get in trouble. Not to mention you need to pay attention in class. Just try to think, Lorc."

Lorcan made no response but furrowed his brows as he turned away. Lysander found himself wondering if it would always be like this… following his twin around, telling him off and watching his back for danger, all the while knowing that Lorcan didn't really need him there after all. But what else was he to do?

Lorcan's name was called and Lysander went to alert his brother as usual, but missed; Lorcan had already moved forward towards the Hat. Lysander held his breath as the Hat was lowered but immediately let it out again as Lorcan was quickly pronounced a Ravenclaw. Smiling at his brother, Lysander hurried forward to take his place. The Hat touched his head and Lysander clutched the edges of the stool with his fingers.

"Oh, another one, eh?" murmured a sly voice in his mind. "Just had your twin… although, at second glance, I'm not sure you belong in the same house."

"What?" hissed the blond boy. He had not counted on this.

"Oh, no, definitely not the same house. You're clever, certainly, but more than that I see courage and protectiveness. Bit of a short temper too. Traits of the lion, you know."

"What… I…"

"Don't you want to make your own way, Scamander?"

Lysander sat still, his mind whirring. He had never even considered the idea that he and Lorcan might be in different houses, but he had to admit it made sense. And it was perfect, really… how would he ever stop treating his twin like a misbehaving pet if they were in the same dormitory?

"OK," he whispered, tense with excitement. His grey eyes, so like his mother's, sought out his brother's hazel Scamander ones at the blue and bronze table and he managed a grin as the Hat declared his fate:

"GRYFFINDOR!"