A/N: Okay, don't judge me too harshly. I was thinking about the next generation of Harry Potter and Scorpius instantly came to mind. As near as I remember, we never really (officially) get a good snapshot of his personality, so my strange mind started thinking…and this was the beginning of the result. Apologies if the concept has been beaten to death; I'm just warming to this part of the HP fandom, and well…I just had to do it. Opinions are always welcome! =)

First Year: Phoenix Rising

After a quick hug from his mother and a nod and a slight smile from his father, Scorpius Malfoy marched quickly but gracefully to the waiting train, luggage and owl in tow, back straight and head held high. The platform was emptying quickly—the train would be leaving in a matter of minutes.

He reached it just in time. Once inside, out of his father's piercing sight, the boy's shoulders slumped, tears prodded by a sudden wash of homesickness prickling at his eyes. He snuffled a bit, wiping at his eyes. He jumped, startled, as the train gave a warning lurch and blasted its whistle. He needed to find a seat now, or he'd be hanging about in the corridor for the whole trip.

This was harder than he thought it would be. Every door he knocked on was full, until…

He pulled open a door somewhere in the middle of the train. It had only one occupant, a redheaded girl about his age. She was sitting cross-legged on the seat, a worn book in her lap and a pretty, bright orange cat leaning against her hip.

"Excuse me," She looked up with calm blue eyes. "Do you mind? Everywhere else is full."

She smiled at him warmly. "Sure."

"Thanks," he put away his trunk. As he sat down shyly in front of the girl, she held out a hand.

"I'm Rose," she said kindly.

Scorpius smiled in return and took the offered hand, shaking it as he replied, "I'm Scorpius."

Rose's smile twisted a bit in wry amusement. "Wow. That's a mouthful."

He grinned. "Yeah."

Rose's cat looked up at Scorpius as he settled into his seat. He studied the boy for a second, then got up and leaped lightly to the other seat, stepping into his lap as if the cat had known him for years, purring as he rubbed against Scorpius's arm.

Rose made a face. "Sorry. Fred was a bit over socialized as a kitten, thanks to my huge family."

Scorpius shrugged. "I don't mind." His mother had had a cat—a mean, grumpy old thing that hissed when anyone but his mother got too close. An affectionate cat was a nice change.

Rose went back to her book with an amused smile. As Scorpius petted the cat, he studied her out of the corner of his eye. Red hair…freckles…his father had told him more times than he could count that these were the classic signs of a Weasley—a name he had spoken of with as much distain as he had spoken of the Malfoy name with praise. He had called them…what was it? Blood traitors.

Scorpius didn't fully understand the term, and in all honesty, he could care less. For though he would never tell his father so, he didn't share his family's obsession with names. He liked his name, he was proud of his name, but beyond that, with all the complicated blood traitor (ugh, he was really starting to dislike that term) business…it all meant less than spit to him. He wondered, briefly, if Rose thought the same.

As the train started off, the door opened again, and a boy their age poked his head in. He had unruly dark hair and bright green, almond shaped eyes. A smattering of freckles dusted the bridge of his nose, like Rose's. He looked annoyed and upset.

"Rosie? Can I sit with you? James and his friends are being rowdy again."

"Sure." As he sat down, he noticed Scorpius. "Erm. Hello," he muttered shyly.

"Al, this is Scorpius. Scorpius, this is my cousin Albus, but everybody calls him Al." Rose said, looking at the smaller boy fondly.

"Hello," Scorpius offered his hand. Al shook it with a shy smile. Fred hopped over to the latest newcomer, greeting him with a quiet meow.

Growing slightly bored as the following silence stretched on, Scorpius pulled out the basic book of spells his father had insisted he start reading over the summer out of the smaller bag he had brought on board with him.

Albus must have seen the title, because his eyes widened in surprise. "You're reading that already?" Rose looked at Scorpius curiously at her cousin's words.

"Finished reading it over the summer," he muttered, slightly self conscious, though a small part of him that sounded suspiciously like his father insisted that he should be proud of the accomplishment. "Started on the spells a few weeks ago."

"Brilliant. Me too." Albus beamed. Talk about spells brought the other boy out of his shell, apparently. "I've reached the unlocking charm Alohomora."

Scorpius nodded, a real smile working its way across his pale face. Albus's sudden burst of enthusiasm was contagious. "Me too. It's the one after that that's killing me."

"Really? May I?" Albus's green gaze flickered to the book, now open in Scorpius's lap.

"Sure." He handed it over. Rose gave a rather unladylike snort, drawing their attention.

"What?" Albus said, almost defensively. She grinned at him, reaching over to ruffle his already messed up hair.

"I know which House you two are going in: Ravenclaw."

Albus's face turned pensive. "That wouldn't be too bad." He looked at Scorpius, silently asking his opinion.

Scorpius shrugged, as if he didn't care either way, but inside his mind was reeling. All his life he had known he was destined for House Slytherin, as his father had been before him, and his father before him…the thought of breaking his father's sacred, much praised tradition absolutely terrified him.

He felt his heart calm down as Albus changed the subject. "Here it is," he joined Scorpius on the other seat without a second thought, propping the book up on curled legs so both of them could see it. "Let's practice it together…?" The eager statement turned into a shy question at the end. Scorpius smiled again in answer, drawing his wand.

They struggled with the spell until Rose took pity on them and joined them. That was how it was for the remainder of the trip. Rose who, in Scorpius's opinion, could give even the best Ravenclaws trouble, tutored them, but not in the dry, demanding way Scorpius was used to from his father; he actually had fun. Rose and Albus argued like siblings over how to pronounce the words, which, when they came to a particularly hard word, nearly had Scorpius in tears he was laughing so hard at their squabbling.

He was still giggling to himself over the latest incident, when Rose suddenly froze. "We need to change into our robes," she said quickly. "We're almost there."

"Right," Albus looked at Scorpius. "Rose gets the compartment. She was here first."

"Fair enough." Scorpius followed him out in search of the bathrooms or an empty compartment, robes in hand. Once changed, they came back, sitting down just in time to feel the train slow to a crawl. The three new friends exchanged frightened but excited glances. They had arrived.

Once outside, in the cooler air, they heard a voice bellow: "Firs' years! Firs' years, o'er here!"

"Hagrid!" Rose and Albus squealed, running full pelt toward the voice. Scorpius, amused, followed at a slower pace, arriving in time to see both of them throw themselves into the arms of a giant of a man. He was easily the most intimidating person Scorpius had ever seen. He had a great, wild, messy brown beard and equally wild, long hair, and hands almost as big as Scorpius's entire torso.

"Rosie an' Al!" The great man said happily, hugging Rose and Albus back. " 'Aven't seen yeh two in years!" he stepped back, beaming down at them. "Yer the spittin' image o' Ron and Harry, when they were yer age! 'Cept yeh look more like o' girl, Rosie."

Both of them beamed at the praise. Scorpius relaxed, approaching, warmed by the warmth of the giant man's eyes and smile.

Rose glanced back, remembering him. "Oh yeah! Hagrid, this is Scorpius. Scorpius, this is Hagrid, a good friend of the family."

Scorpius smiled. "Hello." That smile withered with the warmth in Hagrid's eyes as he looked at Scorpius. Suspicion the boy didn't entirely understand flickered in those black depths, but Hagrid was perfectly, if coldly, civil as he replied, "Hullo."

Then he looked quickly back to Rose and Albus. "Need ter get yeh all ter the castle," he winked at them before turning and resuming his shouting. Scorpius followed after Rose and Albus, feeling cold.

When they reached the boats, Albus clambered in first, looking giddy. Scorpius was a gentleman, if nothing else: he helped Rose in next, steadying the little craft with his foot.

He felt a cold black stare on his back the whole time.

Once Rose was in and settled, he climbed in behind, expecting to have to push off. At a signal from Hagrid, however, each one of the little boats started off all on their own.

"Wow," Albus gasped.

"Wait till you see the castle," Scorpius said. His mother's favorite stories to tell him when he was little were all about the wonders of Hogwarts. He couldn't wait to see them for himself. All of the other first years close enough to hear him, Albus included, glanced at him with shining, excited eyes.

When them came into sight of the castle, shining gloriously bright against the darkened sky, everyone gasped. Scorpius felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs; it was a long moment before he could recover and breathe properly again.

They were all so busy gaping, it felt like a mere ten seconds before their boats bumped gently into Hogwarts's dock, rather than the actual ten minutes.

A severe looking woman in black robes, with her silvery hair tied back in a stiff bun, waited for them, peering at them from behind gold spectacles. "Thank you, Hagrid," she said curtly to the giant, who nodded.

To them, she said, "I am Professor McGonagall, your Headmistress and Head of House, should you find yourselves sorted into Gryffindor." Here she paused for a fraction of a second, her gaze lingering on Rose and Albus. Her gaze swept on as she continued. "If you all would please follow me."

As she swept off, everyone followed nervously—except Rose. She was practically bouncing with excitement. "Al!" she whispered loudly. "Scorpius! We're really about to see Hogwarts! On the inside!"

"Yeah," Albus exchanged a nervous glance with Scorpius, who felt a faint twinge of worry for the smaller boy. While Rose's face was flushed from her chin to the roots of her fiery hair with excitement, Albus looked extremely pale and kind of…green. Like he was about to be physically sick kind of green.

And he wasn't the only one. Most of the other faces Scorpius could see were growing steadily greener the closer they got to the clamor of the Great Hall, somewhere above them. Even Scorpius's stomach sloshed uncomfortably, making his suddenly glad that he had turned down Rose's polite offer of part of her sandwich earlier that day.

When they reached a beautiful marble staircase, Professor McGonagall didn't pause; she drifted, as graceful as an austere silver and black swan, up the steps. Scorpius saw Albus suddenly grab his cousin's hand out of the corner of his eye, and squeeze. Rose smiled and patted his hand reassuringly. Scorpius suddenly found himself wishing that he had a hand to hold on to, too.

They arrived at a pair of polished double doors; they opened silently before McGonagall's swift, determined stride. The crowded Great Hall instantly silenced as they entered, but none of them noticed. Scorpius craned his head backwards to look at the ceiling.

The stone arches of the room's walls molded seamlessly into a clear late summer, early fall night sky, studded with stars that twinkled like distant diamonds, dusted with the slightest, wispy hints of clouds. It was easily one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen—seconded only by his earlier look at Hogwarts, all lit up and shining like a diamond itself in the night.

Rose's quick tug on his tie brought him crashing back to reality. The line of first years had stopped, and McGonagall had turned around to face them again. Beside her stood a stool, upon which sat a patched up, dirty old hat—the Sorting Hat. Scorpius felt his throat constrict and his stomach boil at the sight of it, remembering what Rose had said about Ravenclaw. Please, don't make me let my father down.

"When I call your name," McGonagall was saying. "I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your Houses, which you will remain in for the entirety of your schooling here."

As she unrolled the parchment with their names on it, Rose's hand snaked out to grip Scorpius's wrist. He doubted she realized she did it, being as focused as she was on what McGonagall was doing, but it made him feel a little bit better, all the same.

The first name: "Auburn Creevy." A tiny, mousy girl went and sat on the stool, and was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff. Once the Hufflepuff table's wild cheering died out, the next name was called.

"Braxton Zabini." Scorpius wrinkled his nose as a tall, coffee-skinned boy swaggered out of the crowd. Scorpius had met Braxton over the summer—his father was an old school friend of his parents—and the boy had to be the biggest, most arrogant prat in existence. So it came as no surprise at all to Scorpius that the Hat immediately sorted him into Slytherin.

As Braxton hopped off the stool, he caught Scorpius's eye and winked lazily—an ambiguous gesture that, with Braxton, could be interpreted as a haughty challenge or simply a hello. As he took his seat, McGonagall called another name.

"Jordan Parkinson." A pale girl with greasy dark brown hair and an ugly expression on her face that was caught somewhere between a smirk and a scowl, sat on the stool. Instant Slytherin, again…

Three Ravenclaws, another Hufflepuff, and another Slytherin later, and…

"Rose Weasley." Rose jumped at the sound of her name, as if someone had poured ice water down her back. Throwing Albus and Scorpius a now nervous glance, Rose took her turn on the stool. When McGonagall placed the Hat on her head, her eyes were screwed tightly shut.

The verdict came at once: "Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table went mad, chanting Rose's name over and over. When she rushed over to the table, beaming, an older boy who looked a little like Albus gave her a big hug.

Next name: "Albus Potter."

When the name 'Potter' was uttered, the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables cheered, rattling their tables and stomping their feet. Albus blushed scarlet, and seemed frozen to the spot. Scorpius gave him a quick nudge.

"Go on, Al," he murmured encouragingly. Albus seemed to unfreeze; he walked stiffly to the stool. The Hat seemed to swallow his small, dark skull whole…but it was only there for a brief second before it screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!" Albus looked relieved enough to faint as he rushed to go sit with his cousin, enduring backslaps and cheers from his fellows. Scorpius felt a slight pang of sadness as he looked away. He wouldn't see his new friends much once he was sorted into Slytherin, if at all…

"Scorpius Malfoy." Instant silence when McGonagall shouted his name—a silence so complete, nobody, including Scorpius, seemed to be breathing. The burning weigh of over a hundred stares settled on his back. He could sense whispers, though none of them were anywhere near enough for him to hear the words. His knees felt like they had turned to jelly, but he still managed to walk up and sit on the stool…

Facing the sea of suddenly openly hostile stares was the worst part. He shut his eyes tight, feeling an uncomfortable warmth rise up and sting his cheeks. McGonagall dropped the Hat on his head, and he was grateful for the cool weight…

Hello, little scorpion, a smooth voice said, inside his head. His parents had told him the Hat could talk, but it was still a shock, nonetheless. Um. Hello?

But the Hat ignored him. Interesting…and then it was roaring its verdict for the whole school to hear: "Gryffindor!"

No cheers from any table followed the announcement, probably because no one had processed it yet. But no one in the entire room was as shocked or as devastated as Scorpius.

No! Surely you mean Slytherin! He howled inside his head, tears stinging behind his closed eyelids.

No, the Hat replied firmly, but not unkindly.

B-but I'm…I'm…

Names mean nothing, the Hat interrupted. It is what is in here, inside your head, that counts. You may not believe me now when I say this, but even a little scorpion of bad faith has courage; scorpions, after all, have been known to sting themselves to death rather than be caught by an enemy.

That last bit made Scorpius's blood run cold, but before he could respond, McGonagall snatched the Hat off his head, and the seconds-long conversation was over. He got up shakily. There were still no cheers for him; the Hall was embarrassingly silent, shocked stares following him from behind, stares filled with the distrust and suspicion Scorpius still didn't understand following him from the front, from his new House's table.

He sat on the end, well away from those stares. He saw Albus and Rose try to come to him, only to be stopped by their fellow Gryffindors. Rose sent him an apologetic look; he just pushed his plate aside—despite his gurgling stomach—and put his head down on his arms miserably, wishing he could just sink through the glittering floor and burn up in the Earth's core.

The Sorting continued; each new Gryffindor was cheered twice as madly, as if to make up for Scorpius. When it was over, dinner appeared, much to the others' delight. It smelled wonderful, but the mere thought of lifting his head or taking a bite was just too repulsing, no matter how delicious it smelled…

Scorpius didn't move until the students were finally dismissed, and the prefects of their respective Houses were calling for their first years to follow them. Scorpius followed at a wary distance, but everyone seemed to have forgotten about him.

The Gryffindor prefect—a tall, dirty blond boy—led them to their common room; Scorpius couldn't find it in himself to be amazed at the moving staircases, nor the talking portrait of a rather large woman in a too tight, frilly pink dress…

He did pay attention, however, when she asked, "Password?"

"Philgilus Wigglus." The prefect said firmly, and the portrait opened.

"Boys' dormitories on the right, girls' on the left," the prefect announced. "Your things have already been brought up."

Scorpius was the first one up. He burrowed under the deliciously soft sheets, not bothering to change into his pajamas, barely even pausing to take off his shoes. Thankfully, oblivion took him within minutes, sparing him hours of miserable tossing and turning. His last thought, before he fell asleep, was Father is going to kill me.

A/N: Awww, poor Scorpius! …Okay, I know that that bit about scorpions is a myth, but I just couldn't resist putting it in. There's more of a point to it than just being there for kicks, though, I promise! (For those of you reading Patience is a Virtue, I haven't abandoned it. It'll be updated as soon as I finish and type up the next chapter.) Liked? Hated? Opinions are appreciated =).