Red and Gold

"Welcome to your first Herbology lesson," Neville said, watching as two dozen eleven-year-olds scrambled for seats around the long table in the center of the greenhouse. Green and red robes flashed across the room as the first-years rushed to stand next to their own housemates. It had been nearly twenty years since the war but still the house divisions persist.

"Do any of you know what plant this is?" he asked, striding over to the potted plant he had set up at the front of the room.

Rose Weasley's hand shot up, ever her mother's daughter.

"Miss Weasley?" It was strange to refer to Rose as "Miss Weasley," but no stranger than it had been to call Harry's son, James, "Mr. Potter."

"Dittany," she answered, then, after a small hesitation, "Sir."

"Excellent," Neville said. "Five points for Gryffindor. And who can tell me what it's used for?"

Rose's hand shot up again, but Neville had always been the underdog in school and so he asked the class, "Anyone besides Miss Weasley?"

Slowly, another hand crept up towards the ceiling.

"Yes?" Neville said, nodding at the student to speak before registering who it was.

Blonde hair, slate-grey eyes – he might as well have been a carbon copy of his father. Neville felt himself wince a little, remembering years of torment, years of hurled insults and charms to tie his shoelaces together and the occasional scathing remarks about his parents' condition.

Scorpius Malfoy spoke slowly, his tone measured, "Essence of Dittany can be used in healing potions, sir."

"That's correct," Neville said. "Five points for S—" he forced himself to pause, taking in the boy's robes.

Unbelievable.

"Five points for Gryffindor," Neville said, taken aback.

He wondered briefly how Draco had taken that news – or Scorpius, for that matter. The first Gryffindor in his family. The hat would never have done that on its own – would it? Unless… Had the Malfoy boy asked to be placed in Gryffindor?

But… why?

"Right," Neville said, continuing his class. "Break up into groups of two or three and open your books to page 213."

He watched the students scramble to form groups.

Scorpius Malfoy was left standing alone – of course. The Slytherins would see him as a traitor, the Gryffindors – at least those who weren't Muggleborn – would see him as someone who should have been wearing a green and silver tie.

Draco Malfoy would have deserved the social isolation; it would have been payback for the years of torment Neville had endured on his behalf. Too many times it had been Neville standing there as his classmates paired off into groups, none of them wanting to work with the clumsy boy they all secretly thought was a squib.

But some rational part of Neville's brain knew that Scorpius was not his father, that he deserved a chance – a new beginning. The red and gold robes said as much.

But before Neville could intervene, Albus Potter stood up and clapped Scorpius on the shoulder.

"Come work with us, mate."

Neville felt his jaw drop open. Harry Potter's son inviting Draco Malfoy's over to work together? Un. Be. Liev. Able.

Rose looked positively affronted. "My dad's going to have an aneurysm, you know," she told Albus.

"He'll live."

Rose sighed. "Yeah. He will." Then she turned to Scorpius, extending a hand. "I'm Rose Weasley. But leave my surname out of it if you owl your dad about this, yeah?"

Scorpius grasped her open palm and shook it once. "Scorpius Malfoy. And leave my surname in your letters. So your dad will know who I am when I beat you on all your exams."

"Not bloody likely," Rose muttered, her palm still clutched around Scorpius's.

"You want to bet?"

"You're on."

Neville turned back to the plant in front of him, showing the students how to extract the essence of dittany from the plant, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

A new beginning.

Ron really was going to have an aneurysm.

For the Duct Tape Challenge on HPFC, Color: Green, Prompt: Write about changes in someone's life.