Seemingly Unfavourable Associations Title: Seemingly Unfavourable Associations Artist: faerie_lullaby Prompt: (#, prompt text - if a photo prompt, please provide a link) #208, Scorpius meets Albus Severus for the first time. Pairing: (or characters) Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Severus Potter Rating: G Word Count: 1409 Summary: Scorpius branches out from his father's hatred and befriends the one person his father would despise. Warnings: (if any) None Author's Note: (optional) Written for Phoenix_Flies Round Two. Thanks you to my betas for making these sound so much better.
He had first noticed him in the platform, looking nervous and worried. Scorpius had scoffed lightly at that; his father would not stand for his heir looking so unpureblood. But he supposed that the boy had every right to be nervous, after all, he was the son of the Boy-Who-Lived, and things might be tough on him if he didn't get into the house his family wanted him to go into. He smiled as he watched the boy who looked to be the oldest aim a kick at the younger boy, but quickly schooled his features into a mask of cool indifference as his father glanced down at him.
He listened patiently as Draco warned him about who to avoid, told him not to get in trouble, and to be at the top of his classes. His mother gave him much the same warnings, but in French, and he responded softly, before she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. By the time he looked back to see the Potters, they were already gone, and Scorpius had to hurry, howsoever gracefully onto the train.
Once he was firmly established in his own compartment, he made his way down the corridor to the loo, intent on changing. He made to open the door, when it slid open in front of him, and the youngest Potter boy stepped out. He stared at him, one eyebrow arched in question, smiling internally as the dark-haired boy shuffled nervously and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the fringe. He looked even more baffled when Scorpius reached a hand out to him.
"I'm Scorpius Malfoy. And polite people normally shake hands."
"Albus Severus Potter." The blond blinked, wrinkling his nose, but shook the boy's hand nonetheless.
"Yeah. I was named for the last two headmasters. Not very original, but there you have it." Scorpius nodded in understanding; he knew what is was like to be stuck with pretentious names; he was a Malfoy after all.
"Do you have a compartment? And would you mind terribly if I called you Al? Only it's so much easier, and a lot less hassle."
"Nah, go 'head. And yeah, I have a compartment, but I'm sharing with most of my family, so it's kinda crowded."
"Well, you're welcome to share mine. It's empty, except for me." He gave a small smile, and walked beside the boy he hoped would be a new friend, stopping to get Al's trunk and things.
Al had been right; the compartment was full- and noisy. He did his best not to sneer at the occupants, but was given the evil eye when he was recognised. He could hear hurried whispers, no doubt full of scathing comments about him or his family, but he dutifully tuned them out and waited patiently for Al. Minutes later, they were heading toward the end of the train where Scorpius was situated, the silence slightly awkward.
"I'm sorry about my family. They never took too well to any mention of your family, and they would prefer me to stay near them and not make 'unfavourable' associations." His admission was quiet, but Scorpius smiled at him to alleviate his worries, and pulled the door open to allow him entrance. Both settled down on opposite sides of the compartment, and the conversation flowed easily from one topic to the next, barely pausing to catch breath, continuing on even when the Trolley Witch stopped at their door.
It seemed all too soon when the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade, the sky dark, but the crescent moon bright as students spilled out from doors, chattering brightly in excitement. The older students headed for the carriages, while Hagrid herded the first years into the boats. Scorpius paid no attention the others in the boat, or to Hogwarts in the near distance. His conversation to Al was still going strong, and they had yet to have a lapse in conversation. Al seemed to not be awed with the sights in front of them, and he figured that his father had brought him here many times over the years.
"E'rybody out, let's go now. The Feast is waitin' for ya!" Scorpius grasped Al's hand, suddenly nervous. When he saw Al's equally nervous face, he pulled them out of the boat, stepping out onto a very wide outcropping of stone.
"Hullo, Hagrid." Al's voice was quiet, nervousness lacing the words, his green eyes wide as he stared up at the half-giant.
"Al! Good ta see ya. And this is a new friend?" Al simply nodded and led Scorpius after the rest of the first years, tugging on his hand to get them caught up.
They remained in the back of group as Flitwick explained how things would work, before the professor disappeared for a moment to check on things in the Great Hall. The two boys whispered softly to each other, preferring to remain out of sight from Al's family, but promptly went silent when Flitwick reappeared to lead them into the Great Hall. The hall was nearly full, and Scorpius couldn't keep his eyes from roaming around, finally landing on the Slytherin table, where he knew he would be going, and where he hoped Al would join him. He reached for Al's hand again, tuning out the opening comments. When his name was called, Al nudged him and tipped his head towards the front where the Sorting Hat waited. He made his way through the crowd to the stool, masking his nervousness as he oulled the hat onto his head. He barely listened to what was being said, only perking up when the Hat called out his house.
"Slytherin!" He pulled the hat off and strode sedately to his table, not particularly caring who clapped for him, and sat down to wait for Al's name to be called. It came finally, and Scorpius waited with bated breath as his friend sat there for what seemed forever, and when the house was called, the hall went silent, and his suspicions were confirmed. He got to his feet, smiling, and clapped, beckoning Al over to where he stood. He walked over slowly, with trepidation, the green of his eyes shadowed as he made it to his side and took a seat. He clasped Al's hand under the table, squeezing in reassurance.
"It'll be fine, you'll see. Just write a letter to your dad and let him know what happened. I'm sure he won't mind."
"I chose this house."
"My dad told me that the Hat would let me choose what house I wanted to go in, and I wanted to be with you. He told me that the Hat almost put him in Slytherin, but he chose Gryffindor, because of his family. My family won't talk to me now, though, they'll see this as a betrayal."
"I'm sure not all of them will."
"Well, Rose won't, but James will be furious." Scorpius smiled and instead directed his attention to the food that was now appearing. The Sorting had apparently ended, and everyone around them was digging in heartily. He suddenly found himself hungrier than he first thought, and so he filled his plate, and ignored his surroundings.
By the time the Feast was over, Al had calmed down, and was eager to get to his new room and settle down for the night. Scorpius took this as a good sign, and laughingly followed the prefect to the dungeons where their house was located.
The dungeons were warmer than he had believed, perhaps due to the roaring fire, and looked cozier. The first year dorms were situated just down the hall, and the green looked black in the dark. The candles flared to life, illuminating the room, and casting shadows on the walls. Their trunks were stored at the foot of the beds, and the boys quickly chose the best beds, right next to each other, on either side of the window. Their school robes had already been taken out and laid on the top of the trunks, ready for the next morning when they would begin their classes. Scorpius crawled into bed after hastily throwing on his pyjamas and tucked himself in, watching as Al followed his example.
It was only with the last candle being blown out that the blonde said his goodnights, smiling as Al's sleepy voice answered back. Then, the only sounds to be heard in the room were the sounds of five eleven-year old boys making themselves comfortable in the house that would be theirs for the next seven years.