I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their intellects. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.
- Oscar Wilde
Chapter 5:
In Which A Certain Malfoy Starts His School Year
~ Scorpius ~
Scorpius woke slowly, becoming aware of his surroundings before he opened his eyes. He lay there, still for a while, listening quietly to the soft sounds of his housemates sleeping. He doubted the other boys would be up for a while yet. The excitement and possibilities of what the day held quickly exploded in his chest and he allowed himself to smile briefly there in the privacy of his bed.
This was it. This was his chance to prove himself; to show the world that the Malfoy family was still as powerful and as strong as ever. He was going to make Father proud.
Letting his eyes flutter open he looked up, staring at the patterned canopy overhead. He was going to put his best foot forward today, begin to discover the competition and exactly who it was he was up against. He would hold back at first; he wouldn’t let them see what he was capable of. Mystery was key. If he left them questioning they would be keen to discover more. He aimed only to reveal what they sought after he was firmly sure of them and had them eating out of the palm of his hand.
He sighed briefly before deciding he had been lazing around long enough and it was time to get moving. He sat up, and studied the curtains around his bed. He smirked at the old green material. This was it; this was where he would spend the majority of the next seven years. The school his family had expected him to go to for as long as his memory would allow him to recall, had finally opened its arms and welcomed him in, and in the desired House for Father as well.
With this thought in mind, he threw back the curtains and stuck his head out to see if the others were close to waking. They weren’t, he could hear their sleep deepened breaths - actual rattling snores in Mitchell Opal's case - and the occasional thrashing coming from that American boy’s bed.
His gaze briefly lingered at one of the beds on the opposite side of the room. It looked exactly like the others, although it was housing someone entirely different from the rest of the beds. He shook his head to himself, bewildered. What in good Merlin’s name was a Potter doing in Slytherin? Oh, Father was going to have kittens when he found this out!
Something must have gone wrong surely; perhaps the hat was getting a bit too old. Or what if – he just realised, the idea striking him suddenly – this was all some big, grand plan? What if Potter told his son to bewitch the Hat and put him in Slytherin? A great plot to infiltrate Salazar Slytherin’s noble house with a Gryffindor spy. Bringing into consideration father’s stories about his father, that did have some resonance.
Yes, Scorpius would definitely have to keep an eye on this boy. He would be treated as a suspect until evidence to the contrary.
With a determined nod of his head and a mental pat on the back for his nonpareil intelligence and foresight, he padded quietly to his trunk. Grabbing his shirt, jumper, tie and trousers, he headed straight for the bathroom, his toiletry bag floating along behind him. Brilliant enchantment that bag, mother has really outdone herself.
He took his time in the bathroom, making sure his hair was nicely combed and his teeth were brushed properly. Making sure there wasn’t a single crease in his uniform, he strode back to the dorm room and entered, aiming for his cloak and bag. His bag was ready as he had packed it last night with his books and parchment. Of course he wouldn’t need all the books, but since he didn’t know what classes he would be having today, he figured it was best to cover all bases.
His classmates were just getting up and he saw Felix Flint’s head briefly appear from between the curtains before it disappeared just as quickly and the bed beside Flint’s creaked as Quincy Goyle – really, people like Gregory Goyle shouldn’t be allowed to procreate – rolled over and went back to sleep. The Potter boy’s bed – what was his name again? Alvin or something? – remained curiously silent.
Shrugging he swung his cloak over his shoulders and began to make his way down to the Great Hall. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find, he wagered. He’d just follow the other students if things got too difficult, which he doubted they would. He reached the hall rather quickly considering it was only his second time there and was one of the only Slytherins up. Honestly! Didn’t they realise this is the first day? Impressions to be made, allies to be sought and magic to learn! No time to lie in.
He picked a spot at the table and sat down, putting his bag on the floor next to him, and watched as several plates appeared in front of him. He smirked and tucked in. He had just finished his breakfast when everyone else seemed to come in at once and he was instantly glad he had gotten here early. Flint and Goyle made their way over and sat on either side of him. Interesting…
“Morning, Malfoy,” said Flint, not looking too particularly thrilled to be up this early.
Scorpius gave him a courteous nod back. “Morning, Flint,” he returned and nodded towards Goyle who only grunted. Neanderthal.
They remained quiet for a bit before their comfortable silence was disrupted by the presence of Mitchell Opal. He sat down opposite of them and on cue they all looked up and glared at him. Opal scowled and began to shovel food onto his plate. Finally, Felix couldn’t handle it and burst out what Scorpius was longing to say.
“Why are you sitting with us?” Flint snapped. Opal looked up shocked.
“What is there a sudden law that’s come about that prevents me from sitting here?” he retorted icily, his eyes flickering to Scorpius as if looking for something. He set his jaw, determined not to say anything which might ruin him.
Goyle was spurred into action and he said something more than one syllable which was frankly quite shocking. “Go away, Opal,” Quincy Goyle said simply, his fingers flexing over his fork which promptly returned straight to his mouth.
Opal’s eyes swivelled to Scorpius again and they were clearly waiting on him to make the final verdict. He pursed his lips and raised one eyebrow at Opal. “Is that your only reason? That there is no law against it so it should be allowed?” he quizzed, sarcasm dripping off every word.
Opal scowled again and Scorpius began to wonder if that was the only expression in his repertoire. “No,” he objected, “You guys are the only cool people on the table, the only first years worth associating with,” he said pleadingly.
Scorpius looked over at Flint, who seemed to have been flattered by being called cool and ‘worth associating with’, and decided that they may as well let him stay. He turned back to Opal who had a hint of nervousness in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide and he gave him a small grin.
“All right then. You can stay,” he conceded. He looked instantly relieved and they fell back into silence.
One of the prefects, Adelaide Zabini, whom Scorpius actually knew quite well, strode towards them with a few pieces of paper in her hands. She gave them a polite smile. “Morning,” she greeted them mildly. They all smiled back and muttered various salutations.
“I have your timetables here. Professor Erb gave me these to give to you guys,” she explained and handed to each their timetables.
Scorpius eagerly took his and had a look at the day’s classes. He grinned. What a perfect lineup! First they had double Potions, then Transfiguration, then it was lunch. After lunch there was Defence Against the Dark Arts and then Charms and Herbology. After a quick glance at the timetable, he noticed they didn’t have astronomy until Wednesday night and Flight was on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday afternoons.
The only downside? Most of their lessons were with the Gryffindors.
“Double Potions!” Flint burst out horrified. Scorpius stared, for the first time realising that he might just be the only one pleased by the timetable.
He frowned and looked up at him. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked, still mildly shocked. He didn’t see what the big problem was. Potions had always fascinated him and he loved sitting with father when he made the occasional potion.
‘It’s an art form, Scorpius,’ Father said to him constantly, ‘Not many people are born with the skills necessary to harness it. It requires an exact hand, a concentrated knowledge of how certain ingredients react with each other and the delicate balance those ingredients form to create.’
“It’s hell, that is!” Flint cried, “Double potions on the first day? It’s like they’re trying to torture us!”
“Mmm…” Goyle mumbled in agreement, squinting his eyes together as he peered rather blankly at the timetable in his hands.
“What do you suppose we’ll have to do in Transfiguration?” Opal asked curiously to the group at large.
Scorpius frowned as two people entering the hall caught his eye. It was the Potter boy and the Weasley girl. “I’m not sure. Father said Minerva McGonagall used to give a lot of theory but I’m not sure what the new teacher is like,” he said absentmindedly, his focus entirely on the pair by the doors.
They seemed totally out of place and they looked around awkwardly. Scorpius wasn’t the only one who had noticed them either; they had drawn the notice of most of the student body and the murmured conversations around the hall took a decided shift, their names being thrown around and the words ‘Slytherin’, ‘trick, ‘wrong’ and ‘unfair.’ It seemed Scorpius wasn’t the only one who thought their placement strange.
The girl, seemed to stand out the most, her bright red hair seemed to totally juxtapose the green tie. Red definitely was more her colour. Green made her look like she was ill. The boy though, Potter seemed scarily at one with the Slytherin colours and perhaps that was what was most alarming. That shouldn’t be right! Potters were supposed to be Gryffindors.
They both looked absurdly uneasy, which was a cold comfort, but a comfort none the less. The girl sighed, leaned in close to her cousin and whispered something. The boy blinked a few times before hanging his head slightly and nodding. The girl then drew herself up, throwing out her chest and sticking her nose in the air faithfully, and she strode purposefully towards the Slytherin table, the boy trailing quietly behind her.
Scorpius had to commend her on her ability to act so confident when it was plain she was anything but. She did hold a lot of power though, he could feel it. He prided himself on that, the ability to see people’s power. Grandfather said it was a skill all Malfoys were born with, passed down through their blood. This girl may have been a half-blood but it was obvious she was definitely going to be a force to be reckoned with.
His eyes narrowed. Yes, I will have to keep an eye on her too.
The pair settled at the table a little down from where they were and everyone else left them a wide berth as if they were afraid to get too close to them. Out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius saw Opal and Flint staring at them too. Goyle didn’t seem to have noticed them at all. In fact, he had abandoned the timetable and had refocused on eating as much as he could before they had to go to class.
The girl's eyes flicked up unexpectedly and she looked around and watched as everyone turned away quickly, pretending they hadn’t been caught staring. Scorpius thought, held his gaze and waited patiently for her to look at him. Her eyes finally landed on him and her eyes widened a bit before they narrowed and she seemed to look at him curiously. He held her stare, determined to make her look away first. She became unnerved and averted her eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel like he had won something.
Flint and Opal were talking and he quickly picked up on their conversation and laughed as Opal made a joke at Flint’s expense. He could feel someone staring at him and he looked up to try and catch the culprit. Sure enough the Potter boy was staring at him, a slight crease between his brows as he watched almost worriedly.
Cocking an eyebrow, Scorpius sneered at him and gave him a mocking wave. He immediately looked away, turning to listen to what the Weasley girl was saying. Scorpius rolled his eyes. They weren’t going to survive 24 hours if they didn’t learn to harden up. This was Slytherin, they were Slytherins. It was time they accepted that and started acting like it.
It was soon time to leave for class and he was giddy with excitement to leave the hall and get on with the day. The potions classroom was easy to find and close to the Slytherin common room. The lesson itself went by rather quickly.
Professor Celom Erb had a thick accent and imposing figure, all knowing eyes and an endless stream of information pouring from his mouth. He was rather impressed by him and was thrilled when he let them brew a potion themselves in the latter half of the lesson. His potion was perfect, of course. How could it not be? He had brewed this potion – a simple cure for boils – quite a few times under Father’s hand and even with Grandfather one time.
He must have made a good impression on the Professor for he rewarded him with a bright smile and his deep, rumbling, heavily-accented voice gave him great compliments. He would definitely have to let Father know, he reasoned; he would be proud he was for sure.
The next lesson, Transfiguration with Professor Lenobia Bedelin was a pleasant surprise as he hadn’t been sure of what to expect from the head of Hufflepuff house. She was very passionate about her subject and spoke very enthusiastically about all that she would teach. She didn’t assign homework but warned she would set a decent amount of it this year. Unfortunately, they didn’t do any practical things but she did promise that they could try some spells later in the week.
Scorpius was glad when lunch came as his stomach had grumbled quite a bit in the last few minutes of Professor Bedelin’s lesson. Goyle was positively glowing with joy at the prospect of more food and with the amount of food he had put away at breakfast the idea that he was actually hungry was astonishing. He had a bottomless pit of a stomach and Scorpius had to guard his own plate warily in case he got any ideas.
The next lesson was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Orianna Cemola. He wasn’t too sure what he thought about her. As an ex-Auror she had a certain menacing air about her and from the first minute she walked through the door, he knew she would run a tight classroom. Everything was polished and tense and her eyes occasionally darted warily to the windows or the door as if she was expecting someone to come bursting through. Paranoid, utterly paranoid.
The first words out of her mouth showed an abruptness he hadn’t expected. “Now I shall have no nonsense or idiocy in my classroom. You shall not speak over me, nor take any liberties and assume you know better than I do. I was an Auror; I can kill you in 37 ways without my wand or a weapon in my hand. I will only do so if you provoke me,” the Professor growled after etching her name on the board roughly with chalk.
“I do not care what House you are from nor who your family is,” she said, her eyes coming to rest on Scorpius. He swallowed nervously. “You have to earn my respect, understood?” she barked and all of them nodded at once, uneasily. “Good,” she muttered. Without a further word on the matter she leapt straight into the lesson.
Charms was interesting and they began learning their first incantation straight away. Professor Flitwick was still the teacher and Scorpius spent a lot of the class wondering just how old he was. Father had said that Flitwick had been teaching there long before he had got there and Grandfather had confirmed this saying that he had been his teacher as well. He vowed to research how long dwarves lived when he got the chance.
Herbology was strange, well for most of the class who knew of Neville Longbottom. Scorpius had never met the man before, only heard stories. Father and Grandfather refused to say anything about him, though both liked to sneer when his name was brought up. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was an endless sea of bad history there. Mother had accidently mentioned once that Father’s Aunt had a rather nasty encounter with Professor Longbottom’s parents. He wasn’t sure what had happened but he got the message loud and clear; do not draw attention to yourself.
He didn’t have to work too hard to remain invisible; he hid behind Goyle most of the time and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway; Longbottom’s attention was mostly on Weasley and Potter who he kept sneaking ‘secretive’ smiles too. Pathetic really that the professor already had such blatant favouritism because of who their parents were. Surely that wasn’t allowed.
They had gotten homework off Professor Cemola already and Scorpius really wanted to get a good start and so he thought he might as well do it straight away after class; he would have the whole afternoon to do what he pleased. It was easy to find a table in the common room, no one else seemed to share his idea of getting it done early. Most people were socialising. Potter and Weasley had disappeared somewhere, but he didn’t really care what they were up to.
The homework Professor Cemola had set was quite straightforward and he finished it quickly. Before he got distracted, he also decided it would probably be wise to send Mother a letter. He had sent a quick note off last night to let her know that he was in fact in Slytherin – not much of a surprise there – and had promised to write a proper letter today to let her know of his first day.
He spent a while writing the letter and after finishing it to his satisfaction, he decided to go and see if he could find the Owlery again. Clutching his letter carefully in his hands, he made his way through the teeming corridors. He wasn’t the only one out and about it seemed.
There was a slight wind blowing around the grounds, but it was warm, a nice reminder of summer. Mother would probably be waiting for the letter, he wagered, so he kept his stride nice and quick as he hurried across the school grounds. He knew where he was going; the Owlery wasn’t really something you could miss, it stuck out like an ogre’s thumb.
The ascent to the top was quite steep, but Scorpius continued his quick pace determined to be done with the stairs. He had just reached the top when a small body barrelled into him. Growling, he spun away, pushing the body roughly. His eyes flicked down to find the perpetrator.
“Watch where you are going!” he barked, giving his iciest glare to the little boy in Hufflepuff robes. He looked vaguely familiar and he supposed he was a first year as well.
The boy blinked a few times as if roughly yanked from his thoughts, looked at him, his eyes widening and then smiled. It was perhaps the most alarming smile Scorpius had ever seen.
“Oh.” He gasped as if pleased to see him. “My apologies. Have a nice day, Scorpius Malfoy!” he cried happily, before turning on his heel and skipping down the steps.
Scorpius realised his mouth had popped open in alarm and he forcibly closed it. What in Merlin’s beard was that? He rushed inside and looked for a reflective object and couldn’t find one. Determined, he thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a hand mirror and peered into it worried.
Is there something wrong with my face? That was my best glare! It should have sent him running. But instead he skipped! Skipped! Who skips? He tried to replicate his glare to examine it, but it looked fine, it looked exactly like the one that always sent people scrambling.
It must have been him, he rationalised, yes; it was definitely the Hufflepuff boy who had something wrong with him. There was no way it could have been him. And this whole thing was idiotic! Here was he, standing around and worrying like a ninny over other people’s incompetence. He had to fix this.
Raising his chin defiantly, as if to challenge the world, he strode over to the family owl, Tiberius, which had always resided in Hogwarts grounds while a member of their family was here and gave him the letter. He needed no prompting and was off instantly. Nodding to himself, he turned and began his trek back to the castle.
This was worrying, only the first day and he already had begun a list of people he needed to watch for. It seemed stepping into his family’s, the school’s and his own expectations of himself was going to be harder than he imagined.
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