Disclaimer: As usual, all characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling.

I Can Help You There

Albus Potter brushed a stray strand of jet-black hair away from his face and sat back in his seat. The train compartment of the Hogwarts Express that he was sharing with his cousin Rose was now almost completely silent, apart from the gentle noise of the train's engine.

With the countryside flying past the window, he looked over at Rose, who was sleeping peacefully in the seat next to him, her head resting on her arms and her face almost completely covered by her long, red hair.

When the train had first pulled out of the station, they must have spent at least ten minutes jumping up and down in excitement and shouting, "We're going to Hogwarts!" over and over again.

After the initial euphoria had worn off, they had spent the next part of the journey trying to calm themselves down by comparing their extensive collections of Chocolate Frog Cards.

However, the lack of sleep the night before had finally caught up with Rose and she had eventually sat back in her seat and drifted off, still surrounded by numerous cards, which had fallen all over the floor and seats.

As Albus felt the cooling breeze from the open window drifting into the compartment, he too felt his eyelids getting heavier. Like Rose, he had been unable to sleep the night before, choosing instead to pace around his room, overcome with nerves about his first day.

His usual fears about going to Hogwarts had invaded his thoughts as he stood looking out of his bedroom window: What if he was sorted into Slytherin and members of his family were upset and disappointed? What if he was teased by other students because he wasn't as cool as his older brother? What if the teachers didn't like him because he wasn't as intelligent as his cousin?

He had felt slightly reassured by his father's parting words to him on platform nine and three-quarters, but now that he was sitting in silence in the compartment, his worries were slowly starting to come back, preventing him from getting the sleep that he wanted.

He had just managed to force his eyelids shut and take a deep breath when he was startled by the sudden noise of the compartment door sliding open. His eyes jerked open and he looked over to his right.

Standing in the doorway was a boy with pale skin and hair so blond that it was almost white. The boy had already changed into his school robes, yet despite his elegant appearance, Albus noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed and he wore an almost apologetic expression on his face.

"Do you mind?" the blond boy asked nervously, gesturing towards an empty seat opposite Albus. "It's just that everywhere else appears to be full…and I don't know anybody yet, with it being my first day..."

"Be my guest," Albus responded, pleased at the opportunity to meet a fellow first-year. "It's my first day, too."

He tried to smile encouragingly at the blond boy, who still looked uneasy as he walked slowly into the compartment and towards the seat directly opposite Albus.

"Thanks," the blond mumbled as soon as he had sat down.

Albus noticed that the boy was holding a book with a brown and red cover.

The boy's eyes darted discreetly from Albus to the book, as though he was trying to decide whether he should make conversation or simply sit in silence, reading. As soon as he caught Albus looking back at him, he seemed to decide that it was easier to just look out of the window instead.

Deciding that the boy was probably a bit shy rather than rude or anti-social, Albus tried to think of something to say to start a conversation.

He noticed that the boy was now surveying the Chocolate Frog Cards that were scattered all over the seat by the window with a curious expression on his face.

"Do you collect them, too?" Albus asked him, pointing to the cards.

"Yes," the boy responded, sounding a lot more relaxed now that Albus had started talking to him. "Although…I doubt I have as many as you do," he grinned.

"Most of these are just cards that my cousin and I have already," Albus shrugged, pointing to a pile of cards and then to his sleeping cousin in the seat by the window. "I mean, we've already got at least ten Neville Longbottom cards between us. Feel free to take one, if you need it."

"I could swap you for one of mine," the blond replied eagerly, taking a pile of cards out of the pocket of his robes. He took a card from the bottom of the pile and held it out in front of Albus. "I've already got about fifty of this one."

Albus didn't even need to read the name at the top; he already knew who it was just by looking at the moving picture in the middle of the card. He couldn't help laughing slightly as he shook his head.

"Oh no, it's OK," he told the boy. "I don't need that card, I can see him in person whenever I want." Noticing the obvious confusion that was written all over the boy's face, Albus added, "He's my father."

"Oh…" the boy responded.

Albus took a deep breath and waited for the usual widening of the eyes followed by the enthusiastic questions that were always asked whenever a stranger found out that Harry Potter was his dad. However, to his surprise (and relief) the boy did neither of those things. Instead, he sat back in his seat, a thoughtful expression on his face.

He looked right at Albus, who suddenly felt as though the boy was trying to read his thoughts.

"It must be quite strange…" the blond boy finally said, his voice full of hesitation as though he was debating whether he should actually say anything at all. "What I mean is, it must be strange seeing pictures of your father on cards or in books, especially when you know him as a person and not as a celebrity."

"I suppose..." Albus shrugged, surprised that the boy was actually thinking about how it might really feel for him to have a parent who was so well-known. He could tell that most people just assumed that he and his siblings had grown up with a lot of money and without any of the usual worries of other witches and wizards.

"Although, to be honest," he added, trying to sound casual, "I don't really think about it that much. My parents never wanted us to read too many books or Daily Prophet newspaper articles about them and we've kind of grown up away from all of that. My dad doesn't spend a lot of time talking about how famous he is in the wizarding world, and whenever I used to ask him about the more dark and depressing stories from his past, he always said that he would tell me the exact details when I was older."

"My father says that to me all the time," the blond boy told him with a sigh.

The two boys looked at each other and rolled their eyes. They laughed as they realised that they had just done it at exactly the same time. They lapsed back into silence for a few minutes, although this time the silence was definitely more comfortable.

"You know," the blond boy eventually muttered, breaking the silence, "one time, I saw a picture of my father in the Daily Prophet, too…"

"Really?" Albus asked curiously.

"Yes…" the boy responded, the hesitation back in his voice as though he was wrestling with the desperation to share this particular story with Albus and the fear of revealing private information. "I was only eight years old at the time. I was staying at my grandparents' house and for some reason I ended up sneaking upstairs to play in one of the spare rooms. I started searching through a box of old books and newspapers and all of a sudden I came across a copy of the Daily Prophet with a huge picture of my father on the front. Anyway, my grandmother chose that moment to walk into the room and she took it away from me. I didn't know what it was about-although I could probably guess-and I knew that there would be no point asking my parents about it...they're quite over-protective…"

Albus noticed that a blush had crept back to the boy's cheeks.

"What I mean is, it's not like they won't let me do anything, they just worry about certain things…I'm their only child….and sometimes witches and wizards say things, when we're out in public, and they don't like it when I have to listen to those comments-"

"My whole family's really protective of me," Albus interrupted him, uncomfortable at seeing the boy looking so embarrassed, when personally he felt that there was nothing wrong with having a protective family. He knew that if his grandmother had had her way, he would never have been allowed to fly on a broomstick when he was only three years old or play any games with his older cousins that were even slightly dangerous.

The boy smiled gratefully at him and shifted the book that he was holding into his other hand. Albus was able to see the title written across the front cover: Hogwarts: A History.

"Oh no," he mumbled as the blond looked at him with concern, "I knew that I'd forgotten to pack something. I had that book laid out in my room ready to put in my trunk this morning as well…and I hadn't even started reading it…"

"Don't worry about it," the blond shrugged, "you can borrow this if you want, I already have most of it memorised."

Albus looked at him in shock.

"Seriously?" he asked the boy, his eyes wide.

"Yes." The blond grinned sheepishly. "This, and most of our first-year textbooks."

Albus was strongly reminded of his cousin Rose, who had also been attempting to memorise all of her school books over the summer.

"Don't worry," the blond told him in a reassuring tone of voice, "I know that most of the other students won't have done that, it's just a particular talent of mine for some reason. I've always loved reading and learning new things and I remember things easily."

"I think you're going to give Rosie a run for her money in the first-year exams…" Albus muttered with a grin on his face. "Your parents must be really proud though, having a son who's so intelligent."

"I think they're surprised more than anything," the boy laughed. "Especially my father, he always tells me that he expected his son would be some kind of rebel who constantly tried to defy his authority, or at the very least I would try to steal his broomstick and sneak out to play Quidditch at night!"

The two boys shared another grin but then the blond seemed to think of something.

"Not that I don't like things like Quidditch," he said hurriedly. "It's just that I always seemed to prefer reading books by myself or playing wizard chess against my grandfather when I was younger, something which always amazed my father."

"The last time I played wizard chess was about five years ago when my brother James beat me ten times in a row," Albus told him with a sigh. "After that, it was just too humiliating to play again…"

The blond laughed at this story and Albus felt himself grinning again. He couldn't believe that he felt so relaxed and at ease with somebody who he had only just met. It was nice to be able to have such an open conversation with a boy his own age without having to worry about saying something that sounded uncool or overly sensitive. Albus loved his brother James, but whenever he was around him he always felt that he had to hide his emotions or his worries for fear that his brother would make fun of him. Yet as he relaxed in the train compartment with this boy, he felt as though he could tell him anything and he wouldn't judge him or look down on him.

"So, you don't think that your father was like you when he was at Hogwarts?" Albus asked, breaking another comfortable silence.

"I highly doubt it," the blond responded. "From what I've heard, he was a bit of a troublemaker when he was at school, although he'd never tell me all of the details for fear that I'd try to imitate him. I mean, he has this scar across his chest and once I overheard him saying that he got it from a fight when he was younger. Oh…and he has a tattoo on his arm!"

"Does he really?" Albus asked, unable to hide his disbelief that the calm, intelligent boy sitting opposite him could possibly have a father with not only a scar across his chest but also a tattoo. He thought of his own father with his small scar on his forehead, but somehow that seemed to pale in comparison to the description of this boy's father.

"What does his tattoo look like?" Albus asked eagerly.

"I'm not really sure..." The boy looked a bit uncomfortable again. "He keeps it covered most of the time and whenever I ask him for more details, he says, "You'll understand when you're older."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the witch pushing the food trolley. They purchased drinks, pumpkin pasties and several Chocolate Frogs.

James (no doubt on their parents' strict orders) briefly looked into the compartment to check on Albus. Albus was secretly grateful that James smiled over at the blond boy and spoke to the two of them politely rather than capitalising on the audience in the compartment as an opportunity to make fun of his younger brother.

After James had left and they had sat there happily eating and drinking for a while, the conversation turned to their arrival at Hogwarts.

"Which house do you think you'll be sorted into?" the blond asked.

Albus shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I don't know…everyone in my family has always been sorted into Gryffindor, so I suppose they'll expect the same of me, but I've always felt like I'm a bit different to my Gryffindor cousins. I used to think that it would be the worst thing ever to be sorted into Slytherin, but after speaking to my dad earlier I've decided that maybe it wouldn't be too bad, even though my brother might never speak to me again…"

The two boys laughed but then the blond boy's expression became more serious.

"Everybody in my family has always been in Slytherin," he told Albus. "So I suppose there's every chance that I might be, too. I asked my father about it this morning and he said that he doesn't care what house I'm in as long as I stay out of trouble and try to write home at least once a week. I think my grandfather would be upset though, if I wasn't put in Slytherin. In fact, only last night he said something about disinheriting me if I was sorted into any other house…"

Albus realised that the shock must have been written all over his face because the boy quickly continued.

"I'm fairly sure that he was joking though-at least, I think he was. He says stuff like that all the time but I just laugh because I'm so used to it. My father and grandmother gave him their usual warning glances across the dinner table as soon as he started his pro-Slytherin speech, so I didn't get the chance to ask him if he meant it."

"It sounds like you have a very interesting family," Albus concluded with a grin.

The boy looked at him and laughed. He then sat in silence for a few seconds before he continued with the conversation.

"Well, at the risk of your brother never speaking to you again, if I am sorted into Slytherin, it might be nice if you and your cousin were, too; it would be good to know people in the same house already."

"Well, the same for you if Rose and I are sorted into Gryffindor," Albus replied, taking a moment to stare at the mountains and forests passing by the window.

"You never know," said the blond, "we might defy everyone and be sorted in Hufflepuff!"

"If that does happen…" Albus asked, "please can I be around when you write the letter to your grandfather to break the news to him?"

The blond widened his eyes at Albus for a second before he burst into laughter.

"Yes, definitely! Although…you would have to promise not to laugh when he sends a Howler back to me!"

"OK, I'll try my best to look sympathetic if and when that happens," Albus promised him.

As the sky outside the train window gradually got darker, their conversation turned to other topics. Rose briefly woke up and spoke to the blond boy about their new school books and the few first-year spells that she already knew, but she dozed off again as soon as the two boys got into a detailed conversation about their favourite Quidditch teams and the matches that they had been to see with their families.

"Do you play Quidditch a lot?" Albus asked the boy.

"Not as much as I'd like," he confessed. "My father taught me how to fly when I was younger, but my mother's quite strict about how often I actually play. I fell off my broom a couple of years ago, which wasn't even my fault-some other boy accidently-on-purpose crashed into me with his broom, but that's another story…Anyway, since then my mother's said that she would prefer it if I waited until I was within the safety of the Hogwarts grounds before I started flying again."

"I've been playing Quidditch with my brother and my cousins since I was a baby," Albus said after a few seconds. "So, if you want to practice with us at Hogwarts, feel free…"

The boy grinned at him gratefully for the second time. For some reason, Albus couldn't help thinking that maybe this boy wasn't used to being spoken to in such a friendly way by other children his own age. Yet Albus didn't know why this would be the case, especially when the boy didn't appear to be unfriendly or dramatically different to other eleven year old boys.

Albus shook off his previous thought as he suddenly had an idea.

"Actually, what I meant to say is that I'll help you to improve at Quidditch on one condition…"

"Which is?" the blond raised his eyebrows at Albus questioningly.

"That you teach me how to beat my brother at wizard chess!"

The blond smiled before replying.

"OK, I can definitely help you there."

The train was gradually slowing down. They knew that they would be arriving soon and that they would have to try to wake Rose up.

Albus suddenly realised that he didn't even know the boy's name. He looked at him and asked him what it was.

The blond boy hesitated for what seemed to Albus like an unnaturally long time before he spoke.

"I'm Scorpius…Scorpius Malfoy." Scorpius slowly raised his hand and held it out to Albus.

Albus hesitated for a second. Where had he heard that name before? It sounded so familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He was sure that his aunts and uncles had talked about the Malfoy family before, and his Uncle Ron had definitely said something about the Malfoys on the platform, but he had been so distracted saying goodbye to his parents that he hadn't bothered to listen.

He looked at Scorpius and was startled to see that his expression was now fearful as his eyes darted nervously from Albus to his outstretched palm, almost as if he was terrified that Albus was now going to reject his friendship.

Albus couldn't understand why the boy would even think that. Why wouldn't he be friends with Scorpius? They had just spoken happily to each other on the train for the past several hours and Albus already knew that his time at Hogwarts would be more fun if he had this boy for company.

"I'm Albus, Albus Potter."

Scorpius exhaled in apparent relief as Albus held out his hand.

The two boys smiled at each other and shook hands.