Chapter 23 - Burbage High

"Make the thicker end longer, that's it. Now cross them over, the longer over the shorter, okay and wrap it under, back over. No, over. Okay, Scorp, just stop a sec, just watch me."

Scorpius let go of his red school tie with a snort of frustration and looked up at his father, who, sat on the edge of the sofa, proceeded to knot his own tie - dark green silk, embroidered silver Malfoy crest - with exaggerated, slow movements.

"While I'm relieved my demonstration seems to have perked you up, I've got no doubt it's to due to how ridiculous this tie looks over my pyjamas, and not because you've cracked the method. Try again."

Scorpius tried, and very quickly stopped smirking. The result was one end that dangled on his thighs and at his neck, a stupid looking stub, poking out of a very tight knot. Draco sighed, pulled him between his knees and untied it.

"Why can't you just magic it on?" Scorpius asked, resentfully aware of how whiny he sounded, particularly when his father's only reaction was a slight upward twitch of his eyebrows as he straightened the knot and folded down his collar.

"Did you eat your breakfast?" Draco asked, lightly brushing down Scorpius's chest and shoulders, as if finding shed hairs on his shirt.

Noctowl ate it. "Yes," Scorpius said.

"Good. Is your bag ready? Have you double checked everything?"

"Yes and Yes!" Scorpius shrugged his arms away from his father's hands in a burst of irritation. "You know I have!" He rubbed the heels of his palms hard into eyes sore from lack of sleep. "Stop going on about it!" He heard a sigh and felt the flutter of a spell pass over him. No doubt the type of fabric de-creasing charm his father was so partial to.

His wrists were gently prized from his face and he blinked, his eyes stinging far worse than they had before. Draco's blurry frown slid into focus. "Stop that, you're irritating them even more. And Scorp, I'm not going on. I know we got back late last night, but tiredness is no excuse to be so petulant."

"I dunno what petulant means," Scorpius said, untruthfully. "Why do you always say stuff like that?" He strained against his dad's grip and bucked his hips, but strong thighs clamped him in. "You're so annoying! How can I be something, if I don't even know what it means?" He scowled at the wall behind the sofa, committed to this sudden desire to provoke his father. In his periphery, he could see him dipping his head to the side and trying to catch his eyes.

"Oh I dunno, Scorp," Draco finally replied, but he sounded weary rather than angry and Scorpius felt some of his defiance leave him. "Why don't you examine your behaviour and find your answer there. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, thinking about adding, just you, but a quiet trickle of relief that Draco wasn't annoyed cleared his head a little and he refrained.

"How did you sleep?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Alright." He'd lain awake, tossing, turning, boiling hot and sweating until three.

Draco's fingers slipped down Scorpius's wrists to pull his hands into his lap. "And did you have any nice dreams?" he asked.

Scorpius thought about trying to pull away again, but his dad's hands felt warm and big so he curled his fingers around them instead. "Not really." Just one dream that he remembered, it wasn't nice, and in fifteen minutes it was about to come true. He dragged his gaze away from the corner of the ceiling, finally met his father's eyes, and his stomach clenched with a queasy pulse of fear.

His dad was about to leave him, at school, for the first time, alone. He'd know nobody, he'd stick out, people would laugh at his constellation name, they might even recognise his surname, know about what his family had done, know more than even he did, which admittedly, wasn't much. He should have asked, so at least he'd be prepared. What if they called him a Death Eater, the name the woman in the Quidditch shop had thrown at them and that Al had called his dad when they first met? And that was before lessons started! Would they think he was an idiot when he didn't know the first thing about Muggle science? Or what if he was actually really bad at magic despite him being a pure-blood and having already tried out a Lumos on his dad's wand and what if Miss Granger had expected him to be really good? Or what if they all went on holidays abroad and he had to admit he had only ever been to France once with his Grandparents who he didn't even see anymore and would people want to know why that was anyway? Or if they all had their own TVs or mobile phones or -

"Are you angry about-" Draco murmured. "Are you - upset about the others - about Hog-"

"No!" Scorpius said, shaking his head violently before his dad could finish the sentence. He was refusing to think about that place. He focused his attention on his father instead, fighting the rising nausea. He looked unusually bright for this early in the morning, his chin was smooth, his hair a few shades darker with damp from the shower. He smelled nice, not like potion smoke for once, but like Muggle soap and the liquorice root and mint toothpaste they'd made together earlier that week. Scorpius had actually done most of the grinding and stirring himself, which, according to his dad, meant it was his own magic that filled the toothpaste, it was him that was protecting their teeth from rotting.

"There, that's it. If you smile at the other students like that, then you'll have loads of friends in no time."

"Father!" Scorpius groaned, ducking his head, as if his classmates were already around to hear.

Draco smiled and brought up a hand to smooth across Scorpius's hair, but the action wasn't comforting and in a sudden attack of doubt the boy ducked his head down, batted his dad's hand away and dragged his fingers back and forth through his hair, messing it up from the neat, combed back style he'd finally decided on after ten anxious minutes at the mirror. He glanced up and saw his father's smile had faded. "You'll be okay here? By yourself?" Scorpius asked, feeling suddenly disloyal and guilty. But that had been a wizard's hairstyle, none of his Muggle friends ever looked like that, surely his dad understood?

"Of course I'll be okay," his father said with a brief frown and a squeeze of his hands. "Listen to me. You have nothing to be nervous about. You're going to do brilliantly, you're going to make loads of friends, you don't need to worry about fitting in, because they'll all be trying to fit in with you."

"That's not true," Scorpius mumbled, caught out at being read so easily, secretly relieved at the same time.

"It is true, Scorp. Just be yourself, that's enough. People will want to be friends with you. I saw it for myself last night. I've never been prouder of you. Now you need to be proud of who you are."

Scorpius fingered the crest on his father's tie with his free hand. A large M on a shield flanked by snakes and dragons, complete with miniature eyes and scales. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper, sewed in tiny, delicate stitches. "What, a Malfoy?" he said, sullen again.

"Yes," his father said. Scorpius caught a whiff of Noctowl's breakfast smoked salmon on fingers that gently pulled up his chin, dragging his gaze from the tie. He could see himself reflected on the surface of his dad's eyes: he looked serious, they both did. "Do you remember when I told you that people will hold our name against you? Right after the school Open Day?" Scorpius nodded. "And was I right? Did Al and Teddy and the others shun you?"

Scorpius frowned. Maybe at first, but not really. "Go on, you can say it," Draco said, his lips pursed in that faintly twitching way that told Scorpius he was trying not to smile.

"You were wrong."

"And proud of it," Draco said, breaking into a wide smile. Scorpius almost returned it. "You should carry our name with pride, forget everything else. To be a Malfoy only has to mean that you are confident in the knowledge that you are someone worth knowing."

Scorpius thought about asking just what 'everything else' was, what being a Death Eater and having a Dark Mark meant, specifically, but found he couldn't. Not when his father looked so happy and hopeful. He remembered him as he'd seen him in his grandmother's photo album, age eleven, resplendent in black robes on the morning of September the first, presumably long before he'd found himself on the wrong path, hair shining platinum, one hand pointing his wand, a smile breaking through the rather haughty look he'd been trying to pull for the picture. Had that boy been as nervous has Scorpius was now? He hadn't looked it. Perhaps he'd grown up believing what he was only now telling his own son with any conviction. Because Scorpius had heard him say these words before, be proud to be a Malfoy, but it was the first time it sounded like his father actually believed them himself.

"That's all it means, Scorp. It doesn't mean you have to act a certain way, or try to be a certain person, but be yourself, and know you're already among the best."

"Do you really think that?" Scorpius asked, wanting to actually hear his father say the words, leaning into his body, the thread of the Malfoy crest silky under his thumb.

Draco nodded, bringing his arm around Scorpius, not once moving his eyes from his. "Absolutely." No flicker, no blink, just the fixed black of his dilated pupils. He wasn't lying. "Do you?"

Scorpius wavered, was he really among the best? Was this why the others discounted his family history so easily? He tried to think of his qualities that were admirable, that he didn't need to pretend to have. He was brave; he took on a kid a few months ago who Jake said was nearly thirteen, he could make his friends laugh, he was quite clever, with books but also with people, he was a natural at flying and sport and according to his mum, he'd been performing really cool accidental magic since he was a baby, which maybe meant he'd be good at on-purpose magic after all. "Maybe."

For the first time that morning, Scorpius returned his father's answering smile.

Once the small room his father Apparated them into stopped spinning and Scorpius knew he wasn't about to throw up his orange juice, he noticed a thin, middle aged witch with a cloud of wispy dark hair watching him from by the door.

"Scorpius Malfoy," she said, brandishing a quill.

"Yes." His reply came out as a whisper. He realised he was still squeezing his dad's hand, hurriedly dropped it and cleared his throat. "Yes," he said again, more loudly.

"Just a formality really." She gave him a brisk smile and marked the parchment on her clipboard. "You're our only student down to arrive by Apparition."

"Oh."

"I'm Professor Dickinson." She opened the door beside her and Scorpius was hit by a raucous wave of sound. His nerves returning in a frenzy. "Well, come along, Assembly is about to start. Prepare yourself," she said and left the room, dark green robes swirling at her ankles.

Prepare yourself! Scorpius looked up at his father and failed to hear what he was saying, for he was working far too hard to quell the mad desire to sink his arms into the robes around Draco's waist and beg to be taken back home. To their quiet flat, where they could sit down with a tea and talk about the importance of neat chopping or tackle some long division. But no, if Al could catch a train to Scotland, he could bloody well leave this room. Gathering the courage he just remembered he was supposed to have, he gripped his bag straps to his chest and walked for the door, his heart in his mouth and his stomach leaping as if it were a great fish trapped in his body.

Adults - because they couldn't not be based on their size - filled the next room. The roaring fireplaces that lined the wall spat student after student into a swollen mob siphoning into a bottleneck at the far doors. The heat and energy in the room was violent, female screams and booming, reverberating male voices carried over the whoosh and spit of the flames. Students illuminated by green flashes threw themselves at each other, boys slamming fists and girls crushing into each other's arms, shouts of parties, Quidditch, holidays, friends, coursework and parents blurring into one throbbing cacophony. Scorpius stood, rooted by shock, realising there was only one exit.

"Mr Malfoy! Come along." Professor Dickinson's voice rang out over the rest and with a gulp of air Scorpius wrenched himself from the doorway before she could shout again, tucked his elbows into his sides and was sucked into the fray. It was like being on the Underground in rush hour, but worse. He experienced an elbow to his head, a surge in the form of an enormous boy to his right, his backpack was crushed hard against his back, he panicked over the safety of his wand, he stepped on a girls foot and she snapped her head down to glare at him. He slipped away, catching up with the Professor.

The witch moved through the room within a halo of space and Scorpius fell into it thankfully, heart racing and with his lower back prickling with sweat. "Mr Crowley and Miss Nightingale, please refrain from conducting your reunion in public," Professor Dickinson snapped at a pair kissing fervently against a wall, as they shuffled past them towards the doors. "Mr Fletcher, shirt tucked in please," she told a boy who rolled his eyes once her attention had fallen to her next victim. "Miss Thomas, how many times? Natural hair colours only,"

"But, Miss, this is a natural colour," the girl replied, flicking a long sheet of lime green hair over her shoulders.

"Only if you are a Mermaid, Miss Thomas. Change it by lunchtime, or it's detention," the professor called as she barged away. "And please roll down your skirt."

When they finally passed through the double doors and into the cool, breezy air of the early morning, Scorpius put as much space as he could between himself and the mob. The huge London Plane Tree that grew in the centre of the entrance courtyard was a familiar sight and he approached it in relief, gaining his bearings, taking in deep, shaky breaths and dragging his hair back off his sticky forehead with a hand he discovered was trembling.

With its thick, flaky trunk rising high above him and waving branches stretching wide enough to cast the surrounding buildings in flickering, dappled shadows, the tree should have been ancient, but Scorpius knew it was only as old as the school. Only just older than he was. As he caught his breath, he came to a plaque at the tree's base he remembered seeing at the open day. In memory of Charity Burbage. The school's founder, he presumed.

The southern end of the courtyard was dotted with benches and smaller trees, ornamental Birch and Rowan sprouting from paving stones that gave way to grass and dirt after about twenty meters or so, where larger trees grew, closer and closer together until they formed a dense, warded woodland that Scorpius knew wrapped right around the perimeter of the school. Above the leaf canopy floated the tops of the derelict, concrete tower blocks of the Muggle social housing estate that originally stood on the site, transfigured, transported and saturated with spells and wards to form the main fortification against the eight million muggles that surrounded their island of magic.

Here and there a student appeared from the shadows of the trees, some jogging towards the courtyard, stuffing headphones or phones into their bags and shrugging on robes. Their haste jolted Scorpius out of his daze and he turned back towards the school, spotting Professor Dickinson in the far corner of the courtyard, holding court to a large group of what looked like other first years, with a balding, rotund wizard with round spectacles, pink cheeks and mustard tweed robes standing to her side. Scorpius jogged over to join them, feeling self-conscious as Professor Dickinson pointed the wizard's attention towards him and quite a few students turned and watched him approach.

"We're all here. Excellent," announced the wizard, while Scorp joined the group at the back, trying to sort out his hair and avoiding meeting everyone's eyes. "Welcome to Burbage High! I'm Professor Dewsnap, I'll have the great honour of being the tutor to the half of you here in form A. I am also a member of the Charms Department and this -"

"I am Professor Dickinson," the witch interrupted calmly. Professor Dewsnap dabbed the side of his neck with a white handkerchief and smiled. "And I'll be responsible for the other half of you in form B. I am also an Arithmancy Professor. Or Maths," she added with a resigned look at the blank faces around Scorpius. "Since it's the first day of term, the whole school will meet in the Hall for a welcome assembly, before heading to their forms for registration, and for you, to begin your introduction to the school and to magic. You were, of course, informed by post of your form and house." She gave them a stern look as if daring anyone to counteract this. "Does anyone not know this information?"

The children's answering silence was violently interrupted by the shrill ringing of a bell. Scorpius, and most of those around him, jumped.

"Brilliant! We've got a real organised bunch this time!" Professor Dewsnap said, beaming. He reminded Scorpius of a giant teddy bear. "Well, as that was the five minute warning bell, we best be on our way!"

The murmuring sound of hundreds of voices forewarned the first years of what was to come as they rounded the corner and entered the hall. At least the long, winding route the professors had taken them through the school to get there had given Scorpius time to pull himself together. The sight of all those witches and wizards sat cross-legged in haphazard rows on the polished wooden floor didn't unnerve him nearly as much as just a fraction of that number had in the Floor Entrance.

After settling down at the front of the hall and with the horrible feeling of hundreds of eyes still upon him, Scorpius's attention was drawn upwards by the smart clacking of a woman's high heels. Professor Granger strode out from behind dusty red velvet curtains and across the stage, wearing fancy robes which he could only describe as the colour of a pale, clear early morning sky. The sound came from tall, black leather boots that vanished into the folds of the robes around her legs, and on her head was a traditional black velvet pointed hat, trimmed in a pale blue ribbon and with a large, shiny black stone set over the wide brim.

"Oh my god," the girl beside him whispered. "She looks like a real witch."

"I've been reading loads this summer about the Wizarding World, did you know, she's a proper legend?" another first year girl whispered from behind Scorpius. He tensed, sneaking a look at her over his shoulder, hoping she wasn't in his form.

Professor Granger reached the wooden lectern, raised her arms and silence fell. Wide, embellished sleeves hung down from her wrists. Scorpius could see the tip of her wand just inside a cream shirt cuff. She smiled, her gaze sweeping across the hall. Scorpius thought she looked at him and he smiled back, remembering how long she had spent chatting to his dad last night. And how happy his father had seemed after spending time with her, how bright and positive he had been this morning. He didn't see the intimidating Headmistress of his new school, or the legendary war hero Hermione Granger, but his father's friend, who made him smile and defended him to others.

"Welcome all, to a new school year." She had no need for a Sonorous charm, her voice reverberated into every corner of the hall. "You all know me, of course, in one form or another, but this is the first time I've stood before you as your Headmistress."

An enthused wave of applause and a couple of cheers sounded from behind them. The first years craned around to look, seeing it was all coming from grinning older students. When Scorpius turned back round, tentatively clapping himself, he saw the Headmistress was trying not to smile, but failing, and waving her hands up and down for silence.

"Thank you. Hush, hush." When the clapping finally ended she went on, "I'm incredibly excited about this year. Whatever you choose to do, wherever you choose to go, I am at your service to help you achieve those goals. This is a great honour that I don't take lightly.

"Now, you'll all be aware changes to the syllabus were well overdue, and I can finally announce, that they have arrived. Too much emphasis has been put on keeping the non-magical side of your education and the magical, separate, but not anymore. For the first three years, Science, Maths, non-magical History and Geography will no longer be taught as individual subjects." Another cheer rose, even louder this time, with cries of 'yes!' and 'finally!' scattered across the room. Professor Granger raised her eyebrows, lifted her hands and the noise diminished. "However, If a pupil wishes to take any of these at GCSE level alongside or instead of their OWLs in fourth year, they may arrange with their form tutor to study them in more detail.

"Instead, Arithmancy will be taught from first year, the sciences and physical geography will be taught in a new subject called The Physical World, and will include modules on magical creatures and magical environments. Non-magical history will be studied in conjunction to events from the Wizarding World, and when the two impact or influence each other in a combined class. Cultural Studies is a brand new subject where we will study other societies, religions, human geography and philosophies from around the world, including our own. However, this subject is currently in the planning stages, but will take the place of free study periods marked on your timetable in due time.

"Art, Music, Physical Education, English, Health, and Languages will remain unchanged, and we will be offering after-school clubs to a range of other subjects and activities, including Divination, Drama and Astronomy.

"It may sound like I am putting even more emphasis on your non-magical education, but I'm not. You've chosen to come to a magic school, to learn magic and to be part of the Wizarding World. When you receive your timetables, you'll see that these changes have freed up more time to learn and become adept at the core components of magic: Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Now for the other announcements. Please put your hands together for our new Head Boy and Head Girl, Daniel Nettle and Sabina van den Berghe." Scorpius and the rest clapped, all twisting around again to find the subjects of Professor Granger's gaze. A grinning boy and girl had risen from a bench at the back, the boy raising his hand awkwardly, the girl doing a short, cheeky curtsey that gained a burst of laughter from the students around her.

Once the applauses and whooping died down Professor Granger went on. "I'd like you to put your hands together for our new transfiguration teacher, Professor Bidwell," she gestured to her right and an older grey haired gentleman stood, bowing his head to the polite applause. "Mr Roberts is the new football coach," slightly more subdued applause sounded and so it went on, announcements followed by clapping growing less and less enthusiastic.

Finally, just as Scorpius's mind began to wander, the list ended. "As per usual, it is my duty to remind you of a few certain things. Electrical items should be turned off at all times while on the school grounds and will be confiscated by staff on sight. It is up to you, of course, if you wish to check your phone while in the loo, but we will not reimburse you when it irreparably breaks, which, given the concentration of magic in these buildings, it will. Come to the office if you need to contact your parents, and they will organise it for you.

"I have been informed by the groundsmen that a colony of Bowtruckles have moved into the woodland over the summer." An excited whisper swept across the hall. "While the woodland belt is still free to play in during lunch and break times, please do attempt to find them, climb their trees or touch them. These creatures are peaceful, but will become aggressive if they perceive you as a threat. Please talk to your form tutors for further advice."

"As always, the derelict buildings of the surrounding Muggle estate are totally out of bounds. Not only are they physically unsafe, but the Muggle repellant spells and wards may be compromised if you are seen at a window from the public road. It is not worth the danger, to your personal safety, or the school's. If and when I discover you breaking into any of the buildings, you will be suspended. This is non-negotiable." Silence greeted these words but Professor Granger smiled, as if she knew something exciting and secret.

"It's also my great pleasure to announce that the first ever, inter-school Quidditch tournament will take place later this term against Hogwarts School of-" The room erupted with noise and she was cut off. Scorpius was stunned. He'd be able to see Al, James and Teddy sooner than he imagined! Nearly all the other first years were looking bewildered by the fuss, but he met the eyes of one boy further down the row and they both grinned, allies amongst the ignorant.

The headmistress had to ask for silence several times before she could continue, although she too was smiling widely. "More information will be given on the sports notice boards, and try outs for the tournament will begin next week alongside House try outs. All years are welcome to compete." Scorpius's spirits soared. He could have sworn she glanced at him as she said this. He had to get on that team! How hard would the competition be? Some of the older kids would have been playing for years, but technically, not that much longer than him. He realised that Professor Granger was talking again and he tuned back in, though his mind was still distracted by thoughts of last night's match at the Potter's, worries over his name forgotten.

"-It's all about choice. If you choose, you will be able to become the witches and wizards you have always dreamt of being. You are here because we know this to be true, and now, it's time for us to work together to prove it." She raised her arms, clapped and said, "That's enough from me. To your forms!"

"No need to take out your wands! You'll just need a pen or pencil."

A groan swept across the classroom and Scorpius dragged the zip, tooth by tooth, back over his wand. Out of his bag's main compartment he pulled his pencil case and after checking no one was looking, gave it a quick sniff. The wood was infused with a homely scent from its last job as a storage box for potion herbs and Scorpius felt some of the tightness loosen within his chest. He breathed in again, deeply this time, but glanced up and saw the boy to his right staring at him with an open mouth. Scorpius flushed and quickly put the box down the desk.

Noticing, but trying to ignore how all the other pencil cases around him were tin or plastic, he dragged his gaze across the bare pin boards on the walls up to the high window to his left. A paper plane drifted past, brilliant white against the blue sky. A bird flashed past, perhaps an owl. Scorpius ran his fingers across graffiti carved into the wooden veneer of his desk. It was mostly initials and shapes but a few rebels had added a couple of four letter swear words here and there.

"Right then, right then," Professor Dewsnap murmured to the silent children. "Register. Where are you?" He was riffling through the tall, dangerously unstable looking piles of parchment and paper folders that covered his desk. "Somewhere here... Oh, for Merlin's sake." He drew his wand flicked it and a folder zoomed towards him from the top of a filing cabinet by the door, hitting the back of his outstretched hand. "Oh! I couldn't have sworn..." He looked around, bewildered, and a couple of people on the front row giggled uncertainly.

The professor gave them a wink and then addressed the class. "I know we met briefly earlier, but let me introduce myself properly. My name is Oriel Eunice Dewsnap." He waved his wand as he spoke and to a few gasps, a piece of chalk began to spell out his name on the blackboard behind him. "I have been a teacher here at Burbage High for several years. You may refer to me, as you will all of your teachers, as either Professor, or Sir." He frowned, before amending, "except you'll call the female teachers, Miss, of course. You are sitting in my own classroom. There are three other Charms classrooms here in the cloisters, but since I am your form tutor, this will also be your form room. We will meet here every morning at eight for registration and notices, before your lessons begin."

He smiled around at them as he took his seat. "I'm sure you're all dying to start, but first things first, we need to make sure you're all here!" Scorpius sunk into his chair. "Just say, 'yes, sir,' when I call your name, and let me know if you would like to be called by anything else."

This was it, there was no more hiding. The moment he'd been having nightmares over all summer was finally upon him. The Muggle-born, normal-named others were about to hear his ridiculously over the top, traditional wizarding name. And, that was without even considering that there might be people here with magical parents, who might already know the name Malfoy. No matter what his dad had said about his name being a good thing, his friend's initial reaction had not been pleasant.

"Lydia Mary Adetola."

Scorpius groaned. Professor Dewsnap was reading middle names, this was going to be worse than he could have imagined. He held his cheeks in his hands, elbows resting on the far edges of the desk as he slipped down even lower.

"Yes, sir," called a girl with dark brown skin and wearing a bright pink bobble in her hair from the front of the classroom.

Professor Dewsnap levitated a blue notebook off the top of a pile on his desk and sent it sailing towards Lydia. "That is your homework diary with your timetable printed on the inside cover. Write your name on the front and keep it very safe."

"Yes sir, thank you." Scorpius could see the girl studying the book, a smile evident even from the oblique angle he sat to her.

"Peter Brian Chen."

"Yes, sir. Please, it's Pete," called the bespectacled, round faced boy to Scorpius's right.

"Fintan Patrick Cockerham."

"It's Finn." Imagine wanting to be called, 'end,' Scorpius thought, distracted from anticipating his own doom, feeling a bit sorry for him.

"It's Finn, sir," the professor corrected with a frown.

"Yes sir," replied Finn.

"September Eve Francis."

"Yes sir!" The tiny blond girl was beaming as she sprang forward and grabbed the homework diary out of the air. Scorpius watched her, amused. September Eve? What kind of name is that?

"Crispin Giles Hesketh-Dodders,"

"Yes, sir," said the loud voice of a freckly boy with a big, upswept mass of russet brown hair and a smirk. He offered no nickname and Scorpius began to feel his worry ebb. That name wasn't so much worse that his. Perhaps some Muggle parents were as cruel to their newborn babies as magical ones.

"Sinead Lulu Ibrahim,"

"Yes, sir." Softly spoken, big brown eyes and shiny black hair pulled back in a high ponytail.

"Celestia Lucy Loveday,"

"Yes, sir." Quavering voice, somehow knocked her homework diary on the floor, reddening face at the few giggles that broke out as she straightened up, clasping it to her chest. She could come from a magical family with a name like that.

"Sufjan Roy Madek,"

"Yes sir, though I'd like to be called Sam."

By the time Professor Dewsnap lifted his eyes and called, "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy", the blonde was sitting back up straight in his chair.

He took a deep breath and said, "yes sir, though I prefer Scorp." To his utmost relief his voice sounded confident and was the only sound in the room. He chanced a look around to confirm that no one was laughing. Incredibly, they weren't! But perhaps that wasn't a surprise based on all the strange names that came before him. He released his breath and just as he felt his muscles begin to relax for the first time that day, met the intense gaze of the boy who had rejoiced with him at the news of the Quidditch Tournament. Scorpius felt uneasy and turned to examine his timetable. Perhaps he wasn't as anonymous here as his dad had assumed.

Once Eloise Marnie Woodward had received her homework diary, Professor Dewsnap asked them to partner up with another student. As they left their seats, the desks and chairs began to shuffle politely towards the walls, causing several girls and boys to shriek. Scorpius wandered hopefully to his neighbour, Pete Chen, but apparently being caught sniffing a wooden pencil case was too big of a crime and the boy turned resolutely away to partner with Sam Madek. Scorpius stood, lost for a moment, but to his surprise, was approached by boy who he was certain was not a Muggle-born. Scorpius hesitated. For a moment he'd thought that the boy had recognised his name, but perhaps not if he was approaching him willingly.

"Hi, fancy partnering up?" Tall Theodore Spark had a sallow, inside look about him, his long, thin face was framed by lank, black hair that curled under his ears and he had a few spots on his chin that had the look about them of the recently squeezed. There was something about him that just seemed... A bit unfortunate. But the smile he was giving Scorpius seemed friendly enough so he nodded and took the offered hand. Too much pale, thin wrist stuck out the ends of Theodore's robes and their clammy palms slid against each other as they shook.

"Everyone found a friend? Excellent!" said Professor Dewsnap, coming before the desk to stand amongst them. Scorpius lay his hand on his robes and scrunched the fabric, trying to absorb the moisture in a subtle way as possible. "Now, what I would like you to do is to interview each other, for ten minutes total. I want you to find out anything you can about your partner. What their favourite food is, if they did anything fun over the summer, if they have a favourite Muggle film, or Wizarding game, what is the magic they are most excited about learning here at Burbage. Whatever you might think we'd all be interested to know. Once the times up, you will tell the class about your partner! Feel free to take a seat on the chairs, the floor, wherever you're most comfortable."

Theodore Spark had a half-blood mother, and a father who, while was not a pure-blood - and these words were spoken with a certain deference that made Scorpius feel uncomfortable - could certainly trace their family tree back a couple of hundred years. Not that Scorpius had asked him. The information had spilled from Theodore as soon as they'd sat down on the floor. The other boy's dark eyes moved rapidly, and he spoke quietly, as if in a museum, but with such speed that occasionally the words tripped up over each other in their haste to escape and Scorpius had to lean in closely to catch and untangle them.

"We live in Norfolk, my mum's educated me and my sisters so far at home. My dad's often away, working. He's very busy." Scorpius nodded, trying to keep a courteous level of eye contact. "My dad's job is really dangerous, it takes him all over the country, I don't know if you've heard of him, Fitz-Lloyd Spark?"

"Er, no, sorry," Scorpius said, half turning his head, picking up that their neighbours had just discovered a mutual support of the same football team. Chelsea? Are they joking? Scorpius longed to jump in and tell them the strengths of West Ham but after a few seconds he dragged his attention back to Theodore.

"-though since the uses for Red Cap blood as a potion ingredient are pretty limited, and it's becoming harder and harder to find, he's started to, er -"

"Did you see the Villa match in July?" asked one of the Muggle-born boys, Sahib, or something, Scorpius thought. He'd watched that game around Jakes, it had been a humiliating loss. "Mourinho was such a fool, spending that much on Hazard."

"Yeah, Hazard is brass, but at least he was right about Tores," said the other, Michael.

"Not for fifty million."

Scorpius suddenly realised Theodore had stopped talking. "Yeah, er, sounds great," he offered, just catching the searching look Theodore had been giving him before it turned into a slight sneer.

"Muggle sports. Isn't it ridiculous?" the other boy murmured, glancing pointedly at the other boys. "I can't believe we have to play them here."

So that's what's off about you, and why you want to impress me, not that you know anything about me. You think you're better than everyone else. Scorpius gazed at Theodore in the same impassive way his father had looked at him earlier when he'd been petulant. Down his nose, with a very slight lift of one eyebrow. It worked, Theodore's scornful expression quickly dissolved into something more nervous. "Football's great," Scorpius said, once he'd decided the silence had lasted long enough.

Theodore's eyes widened. "What? You like football?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Oh, I thought you were a Quidditch player. I thought -"

"Can't I like both?"

"Er, well, yeah, I guess." Theodore brought a hand to his mouth and chewed on a hangnail, before dropping it back down as if he had just remembered some forgotten lesson on manners. "What did you say your dad does?"

"He's a Potion Brewer."

Theodore grinned. Scorpius hadn't noticed earlier but his teeth were crowded and overlapping, yellow where they sank into his gums. He could have used some Malfoy toothpaste. "So you aren't a Muggle!"

"No, but neither is anyone else here." Scorpius made sure to say the words as slowly as possible and with a greatest expression of disdain as he could muster.

Theo's grin faded. "No, I know they're not. I didn't mean it like that." He looked worried and Scorpius began to feel sorry for him, but then the boy asked, "But what's your blood status?" and his pity vanished.

"My blood status?" Scorpius repeated, trying for time, not sure how to answer. On the one hand there was something about the prospect of telling Theodore about his family background that made Scorpius feel slimy, knowing how much it would impress him, but on the other hand, his father had instructed him to be proud of who he was. Although had he just meant of being a Malfoy? Or of being a pure-blood? That was the type of thing his Greengrass grandparents had always said was important, but his father hated that about them, so perhaps not.

But in that moment Scorpius discovered a tiny part of himself wanted to tell Theodore he was a pure-blood, and not just any pure-blood. A member of the Sacred Twenty Eight, a scion of a Noble House and a decedent to a Noble and Most Ancient House. How stupid would Theodore Spark, or Theodore Drip as he wanted to call him, feel once he'd realised who he'd been boasting to about his own unimportant family.

Scorpius smiled coldly. "I'm a-"

"Mr Malfoy," Professor Dewsnap's voice said sharply from behind him. Theodore's eyes shot up and Scorpius scrambled around to stare guiltily up at the teacher, the words and smile dying on his lips as the man's gaze lingered on him. "I hardly think the class would be interested in information like that."

"Sorry, sir," Scorpius mumbled.

"Theodore, I'm sure there's far more of interest to Scorp than his blood-status. How about you try a little harder? Scorp, try asking Theodore a few more personal questions. I'm sure his father is a fascinating man, but that's not who we want to know."

Scorpius slumped his shoulders as the Professor stood up walked away, rubbing a mark on the carpet where a desk leg had left an indentation.

"Sorry," Theodore said, and Scorpius lifted his gaze. The other boy was watching him anxiously. "I just thought-" Theodore reverted back to his mouse voice and Scorpius had to lean back in to hear. "-I just thought - well, your name sounds sort of magical, and um," he glanced around at the others, "I've never actually met any Muggles, or Muggle-borns before. Well, properly met them. Except at my interview."

"Really?"

"No, not that I think that they're bad or anything," he said in a frantic whisper. "Well I've seen them sometimes walking across the fields near our house, but we don't live near any, and well, my mum - er, she's not well enough to teach me anymore, and um - as I said, my dad's business isn't great, and so Hogwarts wasn't an option. And my mum can't teach me anymore, er sorry, I just said that-"

Scorpius watched the mumbling boy before him, the feeling of pity returning, noticing the way his dark eyes flickered away whenever anyone nearby raised their voice or laughed. Theodore's back was hunched, and his limbs were arranged in such a way to make him as small as possible without actually curling up in a ball. Perhaps he wasn't that blood prejudiced. Perhaps he was just scared. Maybe more scared than even Scorpius was. He realised embarrassing Theodore might have felt good for a moment, but not for very long.

"-so I ended up here, which is alright i guess because it's Hermione Granger and my parents just seem to love her, not that they fought in the war or anything, but -"

"And what do you think so far?" Scorpius interrupted.

Theodore hesitated. "Everyone's very loud."

Scorpius laughed. "Yeah, I'd noticed that too." The other boy looked relieved and offered him a shy smile. Scorpius glanced at the clock. They had three minutes left. Time to make the most of this, and hopefully undo some of the damage to Professor Dewsnap's opinion of him. "So, do you have any pets?"

"Yeah. We've got a Jack Russell called Mabel, and a couple of cats, Io and Pi, oh, and our owl is called Ewe."

"You?" Scorpius repeated.

Theo laughed. "Like a sheep. I know it's weird but that's what mum said she looked like when she was a chick so it stuck. What about you?"

"I've got a Tawny owl called Noctowl."

"Noctowl? Like, nocturnal?"

"Yeah, kinda, but not exactly. I don't s'pose you've seen a television...?

"Um, I know what they are."

Scorp grinned. "Well basically, there's this Japanese Muggle cartoon about magical creatures that have powers and there's this owl one who-"

Theodore Spark, or Theo - as Scorp discovered he'd been too nervous to tell the professor he preferred - who's favourite food was trifle, who wanted to become an animagus when he grew up and whose favourite Quidditch position was Keeper, clung to Scorpius like a shadow for the rest of the day. He was geeky and talked too much, showing teeth that made Scorpius feel both grossed out and sad, but at least that kept Scorpius from having to reveal much about his own family, so he wasn't such a bad result in a first friend.

It turned out there were six other first years from magical backgrounds, miraculously none of whom seemed to have prior knowledge about the Malfoys, (although if they had, Scorpius told himself later, he obviously wouldn't have been ashamed to defend himself or his father.) The eight of them seemed to gravitate towards each other, standing on the edge of the large group of first years that gathered awkwardly next to the sports fields at break time, the boys posturing, the girls giggling, all sizing each other up and comparing accidental magic stories in loud voices and throwing jealous, nervous looks at the second and third year boys playing football on the field.

The teachers must have anticipated this divide as for the rest of the day, the year was split into mixed groups while they went on more 'getting to know each other' activities and 'getting to know the school' missions and treasure hunts. And get to know, they did. The school was enormous, sprawling red brick and flint buildings, full of glass and light but also nooks and crannies and hiding places, tennis courts and greenhouses, covered in topiary, plants and trees, so many trees with vast branches that swayed in the windless air. Paper plane memos and owls and squirrels that seemed suspiciously more intelligent than normal moved through the branches overhead as the children ran through the school, the sounds of music lessons and teachers voices drifting through the open windows they passed. The walls were covered in student art and their sculptures were in the grassy squares, abstract people and creatures that tripped over themselves to help with directions and clues to their missions, and whenever the bell rang and the older students appeared, boisterous and intimidating, Scorpius quickly learnt it was best to avoid asking them for the same information after he found himself in a cobweb filled toolshed looking for a golden music stand instead of the orchestra practice room.

Scorpius found himself back in his form room, in a lecture on basic magical theory at three o' clock, exhausted, both socially and physically and utterly relieved to be finally sitting down. With Theo on one side, and the Chelsea fan, Sahib on the other, he let Professor Dewsnap's words, instructions of intent, of imagining the result you want, of feeling for the magic in your wand and your body as if you were trying to listen and feel your own heartbeat, wash over him. He'd known this stuff his whole life after all, and so had Theo, if the way he was doodling pixies on his homework diary was anything to go by.

Finally, as the clock neared four, when Scorpius's feeling of relaxation had long given way to boredom and he'd begun to envy Sahib for the way he gazed in fascination at Professor Dewsnap's diagrams on the blackboard, he heard the words, take out your wands, snapped to attention, and scrambled like the rest of the class, for his bag.

This is it!

His wand felt alive in his hand, all ten and a half inches of ash and unicorn hair, looking as beautiful and shiny as the day they'd bought it. Scorpius felt a sigh escape and quickly glanced around to see if anyone noticed, but no one had. Just like him, the whole class was entranced by what lay in their hands.

"It is traditional for a wizard or witch's first spell to be the Levitation Charm, and being a stickler for tradition, so it shall be for you too!" Professor Dewsnap announced, brandishing his own wand. "Remember what I said about casting spells. The correct latin pronunciation is incredibly important and you must match the right syllables to their counterpart wand motions." Scrubbing the blackboard clean with what Scorp guessed was a non-verbal cleaning spell, the professor wrote the words, Wingardium Leviosa.

"However," he continued, turning back to face them, "despite how precise you must be, remember, Magic is an art, not a science, and your feelings are also key. Determination, in this instance, and an abstract idea of what it would be like to levitate, a sort of weightlessness, if you will. I always imagine myself as dandelion seed, drifting on the air. Rudderless, timeless, with not a care in the world as to where I end up, dependant on the whims of Mother nature herself." Sahib gave Scorpius a nervous look that he did his best not to return. His father had never mentioned anything like that. Perhaps he should have been paying more attention to the lecture after all.

The professor took the lid off a box on his desk, waved his wand in a motion that ended in a snap, while saying, "Wingardium Leviosa," and a cloud like object floated from the box. He waved his wand again and the cloud broke apart and Scorpius saw it was made from white feathers, each one drifting lazily away to fall before a student.

"There is fifteen minutes left till the end of school. Practise on your feathers. Remember, Win-gar-dee-um Levi-o-sa," he moved his wand in an exaggerated display, "and swish and flick."

Scorpius stared at his feather. This seemed simple enough. He gripped his wand, tried to dominate his buzzing excitement with a feeling of determination, tried to balance this with what it would feel like to be a cloud - er, light and fluffy probably, a vague pointlessness, though wasn't that contradictory? - felt for the magic that hummed in time with his breathing in his chest and his heartbeat in his hand, spoke the words, drawing out the right syllables, swished and flicked - And the feather seemed to sigh. As if the gentle breath of the tiniest breeze had passed over its fluffy down.

He tried again.

Scorpius leant against the wall by the door of the Apparition entrance, looking back the way he'd come and catching his breath after having battled once again through the melee of the Floo room. Without a Professor's protection it was even worse than this morning. They really needed to sort out a better system.

He shrugged his bag up his back, turned to the door that wasn't quite shut and heard his dad talking on the other side. His heart leapt in excitement and relief, just as the chiding voice of the Headmistress answered. Scorpius's hand faltered, thinking of his near brush with blood prejudice this morning. Had Professor Dewsnap reported him? Or maybe this was about his abject failure to get his feather to levitate.

"You weren't that bad."

"Granger, don't lie, you can't lie to save your life."

A spluttering sort of laughter sounded. "Excuse me, I can lie extremely well. And I'm not lying now. You weren't that bad. More - well, sort of below average. You did manage to score a couple of goals. I think."

Scorpius heard his dad chuckle and he relaxed. They were talking about last night, he wasn't in trouble. "Well, thanks for being so observant, I suppose. At least I know one person appreciated my efforts on the pitch."

"Who? George Weasley?"

His father scoffed. "His reactions to his daughter's unnatural aptitude as a Beater were completely over the top."

"Come on, Malfoy, no need to sulk," Professor Granger said, a smile in her voice. She was teasing his father! Teasing!

"I don't sulk."

"What do you call your reaction to Harry catching the snitch then?"

"Being rightfully pissed off. Potter was playing against an eleven year old. Nasty trick to pluck the snitch from behind someone's ear."

"I don't think I heard Scorp complaining."

His father grumbled something Scorpius didn't hear and the headmistress laughed again. Scorpius decided he'd heard enough and with a backward glance to check no one had witnessed him loitering, pushed the door open.

His father and the headmistress were standing on the far side of the room, his shoulder leant against the ledge over the fireplace, her against the wall, both smiling, bodies angled towards each other, him with his arms folded and his legs crossed at the ankle, her turning her hat in her hands, one foot pulled back to rest on her toes.

They hadn't noticed him enter. Scorpius felt even more awkward. Like he was intruding on something, which was weird and didn't make sense. Should he announce himself?

"How was your mum today?" the professor asked, her voice much softer than it had been before.

His father's smile became slightly fixed. "She was alright. Took to the idea of seeing Andromeda far better than I expected. She liked the idea a lot."

"That's good!"

"Yeah, I guess so," his dad said, sounding uncertain. "Well, I've owled Andromeda. She's going over this weekend."

"Are you going?"

"I need to. Just in case -"

"What?"

"Well, things tend to unfold unpredictably around my mother."

Headmistress Granger nodded. "Well, Andromeda is as dependable as they come so I'm sure she can handle anything your mum throws. She was a rock to Harry growing up, even after enduring so much loss of her own."

"Dependable, I can see, but also scary," his dad said, smiling genuinely again.

"Oh god, I know. Did she get you with one of her insights?" His father nodded grimly and the professor bit her lip in a sort of sympathetic grimace. "She's so good, it can leave you feeling terribly exposed. I can't say how many parties I've left questioning my life choices after having a chat with Andromeda."

"Why would you ever question any of those?"

The softly spoken question made the headmistress laugh. But it didn't sound like a real one. It sounded nervous, and his father didn't join in the way he should have done to be polite. "I was joking, Malfoy. Merlin."

His father didn't say anything for a moment, he just watched the headmistress until she stopped laughing and looking out of the window instead of at his face. "Are you okay?" Draco asked, using the same low voice. "You didn't answer me earlier. How did it go today?"

"Oh sorry, yeah it was great, thank you," she said with a smile that looked as unnatural as her laugh. "Today was a great success. Fantastic, we're off to a fantastic start." Scorp thought she sounded like she was making another speech. "Promising first years, excellent new teachers-"

"Granger-" his dad interrupted, but the witch took a step back, still smiling and shaking her head.

"Listen, I've got to get back," she said, moving towards the fireplace. "it was great to see you. Maybe we could do this again some time. I'd like that." She took a pinch of Floo powder, Scorpius tensed, thinking she was about to see him, but without looking around or waiting for a reply from his father, she stepped into the green flames and disappeared.

Draco stood still for a moment, watching the flames splutter and die, frowning gently. He looked sad.

Scorpius made the snap decision to pretend that he had just walked in. "Father!" He announced, pushing the door so it swung into the wall and dropping his bag to the floor with a loud clunk.

His father started, as if the sounds had pulled him up from somewhere deep. But Scorpius saw with enormous relief that the smile Draco gave him was a real one.