A Credit To Their Houses, Chapter 4: Four the Win
A Credit to their Houses
By dracontia
Chapter 4: Four the Win
Characters: Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Severus Potter, Rose Weasley, James Sirius Potter, Louis Weasley, Lysander Scamander, Lorcan Scamander, Fred Weasley, Rubeus Hagrid, assorted canon & original characters
Rating: G
Summary: Two little wizards and one little witch meet in the Hogwarts Express on their way to their first school term. This story can absolutely, positively stand alone, with no reference to any other fanfiction; however, it was written with the intent of taking up the narrative from the end of ‘In Your Debt,’ as the title implies.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling’s characters are on completely unpaid leave in my imagination.
Chapter 1: One Little Wizard
Chapter 2: Two Little Cousins
Chapter 3: Three Little Purses
Photo Post: A Glimpse of Scorpius’ world. These are photos that resemble the Manor grounds as Scorpius knows them.
Photo Post: Agate.
Chapter 4: Four the Win
Al gave Scorpius’ wrist another quick squeeze. This time he felt the hilt of Scorpius’ wand. “Say, I just thought of something!” Al absolutely radiated excitement. “You said that your wand belonged to your dad… and the card says that his wand defeated Voldemort… so…”
“No way,” Rose breathed. “Let’s see it again.”
Scorpius felt another shiver. This time, though, it was of excitement rather than anxiety. Slowly, he drew the wand again and cradled it in both hands. ”I don’t know,” he whispered. “Wouldn’t it be… I don’t know, under glass or something, somewhere? Wouldn’t your father have kept it?”
“Dad says his wand is the one he always had, from when he got his Hogwarts letter,” Al said, shaking his head. “James asked once and Dad told him it wasn’t the one that he used in the last battle and to leave off asking about it. He doesn’t keep any others at home and he and Uncle Ron complain about the spares they have at the office being second-rate.” The words tumbled out of his mouth faster and faster as he went.
“Besides, who keeps a mess of wands around?” Rose asked. She seemed to have caught a bit of Al’s excitement. “This has to be it!”
Al held his own wand close to Scorpius’. “My wand was old stock. Mr. Frost at Ollivander and Frost’s said it was one of Ollivander’s classics. Look at how alike the hilts are,” he said.
Once again Al made Scorpius want to believe. “There is something about them… They might be of an age,” he admitted.
Rose held hers out beside them to compare. “Mine is a new one, a Frost model. You can see how it has a different sort of hilt, and the polish is a different because they have different resins in the mix nowadays. This one must be it!” Her eyes shone with the secret. They seemed even bluer up close. Scorpius found himself fascinated by the jewel-like shade, which shifted in seconds from enthusiastic to thoughtful. “Still… better keep this between us, though-unless you want people queued up around the school asking for a peep at it,” she said.
Keeping quiet seemed like an excellent idea to Scorpius. It further occurred to him that someone might decide that his wand did indeed belong under glass somewhere, and he was already quite attached to it.
“Can I keep it mum that my name is Potter, so they won’t queue up to have a peep at me?” Al asked dryly.
“James says they got over it… after a term or two,” Rose teased.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t look as much like Dad as I do,” Al said.
“If they pile up too deep shall I just whip this out and get their attention?” Scorpius ventured to make his second joke of the day, punctuating it with a wave of his wand that left a little trail of white sparks.
Their laughter was cut short by a sharp, “What’s this, then?”
Scorpius looked up to find James and Louis filling the doorway with Lysander and Lorcan peering in over their shoulders. His first, incongruous, thought was that James looked nothing whatsoever like Mr. Potter. The hard expression in his brown eyes was quite unlike the equivalent on the Chocolate Frog Card, and his hair was decidedly red and rather curly. He looked more like Louis’ brother than Al’s.
“We are keeping ourselves amused in your absence,” Rose said. The lofty tone was back, with added primness that couldn’t mean anything but reproach.
“Who invited him?” James pointed his thumb rudely at Scorpius.
Scorpius felt a wave of sick worse than his nervousness on the train platform. Just as quickly, he almost laughed out loud when Rosie, Al, Lysander, and Lorcan all said in unison-with varying degrees of exasperation or matter-of-factness, “YOU did!”
At the sight of James’ scowl, Scorpius felt a bit of mischief. “Yes, thank you,” he said, every bit as primly as Rose.
Speaking of whom, “His name is Scorpius, by the way,” Rose said disapprovingly. Stilted greetings were exchanged, and the older boys couldn’t quite seem to decide whether or not to shake hands, so Scorpius didn’t try. Then it grew rather quiet and terribly awkward.
Louis snorted and flopped into the seat. “Teach you to play the joker,” he said to James. “Are we staying, or are you going to deliver the sandwiches and we’ll be off again?”
“Do you have any sandwiches left?” Lorcan asked. Scorpius was only guessing as to which twin had spoken, but it did seem that Lorcan usually made the first remark.
“No need.” Al waved off James’ offer of the thoroughly squashed lunch sack (which contained perhaps half a sandwich, by Scorpius’ estimate.) “We handled things all on our own-the three of us.”
“Three pounds of cauldron cakes washed down with pumpkin juice, I’ll warrant,” Louis said. “Don’t come crying to us in the dorms tonight when you get a bellyache.”
“For your information, we shared out my peanutbutter and Scorpius’ quice, and had no more than a reasonable number of cauldron cakes,” Rose said.
“Yes, and you needn’t assume we’ll be in a dorm anywhere near yours, either,” Al added.
Scorpius thought that you might have heard a pin drop on the carpet in the instant, but perhaps that was merely by contrast with the subsequent explosion.
“Don’t joke like that!” Louis nearly yelled, aghast.
“Is this about earlier? C’mon, I said I was sorry,” James whined.
“Did you?” Lysander asked. Scorpius was really only pretending he could guess which one it was, but it was better than calling each of them Lysander-or-Lorcan every time one spoke, even if only in his mind.
“This has nothing to do with it, and I’m not joking.” Al stuck his chin out, looking quite defiant. “I don’t know what house I’ll be in. I can’t guess what the Hat will say; maybe I’ll just ask it to let me follow my best mate here.” He slung his arm over Scorpius’ shoulder. Scorpius really wasn’t accustomed to quite so much physical contact, nor with anyone being quite so proprietary. Still, the idea of being someone’s best mate!
“Al? What… what’s got into you?” James sounded uncertain. He peered at Al with concern and at Scorpius with suspicion.
“I thought you’d heard, big brother,” Al said. “I can manage all right with my friends, just like you do with yours. Go along and have fun if you like, and we’ll do the same-here on the train, and in whatever house we’re sorted into.”
“That would be Gryffindor if you know what’s good for you,” came a new voice. Scorpius turned to find himself facing a sneering boy who seemed-he could think of no better description for it-various shades of rust-color all over, from his curled hair to the skin on his hands. He wore some of the most extraordinary clothing Scorpius had ever seen, including a red dragonhide jacket and matching boots over blue Muggle trousers that somehow seemed substantially more expensive than Scorpius’ own hand-me-downs. A taller boy stood behind him, idly punching one fist into the palm of his hand. Scorpius could see why the boy who’d spoken might want a bodyguard. Anyone that short, who spoke that rudely, probably stood a fair chance of being thrashed.
“I’ll decide what’s good for me without any input from you,” Al said.
“Watch how you speak to family,” the newcomer said.
“Pot, cauldron, Freddy,” Louis remarked with a snort.
“I’d think you would understand best, the only loyal one out of your lot,” Freddy shot back.
Louis pretended to ignore Fred. James was not so quiescent. “Quit talking rubbish,” James said. “Loyalty is how you treat family-not whether you’re in the same House as they are. Go buy a gobstopper, you could use it.”
Scorpius happened to think almost that same thing at that moment, and gave a little cough to hide his laugh. The sound had the unfortunate effect of getting Fred’s attention.
“What’s this?” Scorpius narrowed his eyes at the other boy. Between the tone and the words, he’d no intention of introducing himself.
“Honestly,” Rose said. It was more of a huff, really. “Fred Wealsey, can’t you introduce yourself like a civilized wizard? What about your friend back there?” She peered at the boy behind Fred rather severely, as if silently chastising him for taking up the entire corridor. Neither his size nor the fist fazed her in the slightest. “You have no reason to be so rude to Scorpius; as Al indicated, and I’m sure you would have heard did you pay attention to anything but yourself, he and Al are friends.”
“Bet you a sickle Gerry doesn’t talk,” James whispered to Louis. “I’ve never heard a word in the two years he’s been hanging about with Fred.”
Scorpius rather wished Rose would have refrained from helping.
“Scorpius… that’s an outdated name if I ever heard one. Let me guess: he’s a Malfoy. The definition of outdated. And apparently, skint. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Can’t put enough knuts together for new kit?” Fred plucked at the sleeve of Scorpius’ muggle robe disdainfully. Scorpius yanked his arm away. He felt his lips twisting with disgust and anger. “Guess Malfoys must be the poorest wizards there are-too little color and too few children and they still can’t cover ‘em properly. Shall we show you how to use the loo, seeing as you can’t have a pot to piss in?”
“I take it you were the specific Weasley I was warned about,” Scorpius said, and scarcely knew where the words came from. All of a sudden he felt glib and defiant.
“Probably because he should come with a warning label,” Rose said. She narrowed her eyes at her cousin and Scorpius realized that the look she’d given him earlier was only a faint shadow of cold and disapproving.
“Oi, leave it be, Fred,” Louis said. He was clearly uncomfortable with the situation but hoping to diffuse it. “What’s a different house among family, or even friends?”
“Everything, if that house is Slytherin.” Fred said. He made it sound like a word Rudy would say. “We don’t consort with the enemy!” Gerry smacked his fist particularly hard. Apparently he didn’t speak; he merely provided punctuation.
“What does that mean?” Lorcan asked, wrinkling his nose. It was the most expression Scorpius had seen him make since their acquaintance had commenced.
“It means we thrash them at Quidditch,” Louis said with a grin. “But that makes them the same as all the other Houses.” Lysander rolled his eyes at that.
“It’s more than that and you know it. They need to be kept in line.”
“Go away, Freddy, and quit sampling experimental stuff from your dad’s lab,” James said dismissively. He drew his wand and began flipping stray crumbs into the air and incinerating them, with the air of someone who is so bored with the conversation he had to resort to such measures.
Al held up his hand in a ‘halt’ gesture, not that it seemed necessary. Fred was clearly ignoring James, as James seemed determined to likewise do. “You need to explain that, Fred,” he said. His eyes were narrowed at Fred, and there was something commanding about his manner that Scorpius wouldn’t have guessed at from their earlier hijinks. It certainly seemed to draw out Fred.
“You should know better than anyone, baby cousin, who was on the wrong side-and who will be again, unless we see to it they know their place. You might even make a name for yourself, once you join us. We don’t forget who we are-and don’t let them forget, either.”
“You don’t know who I am,” Al said. His tone chilled the room. “Maybe you didn’t hear my dad when he said the bravest man he ever knew was a Slytherin. You know what? I’m beginning to think I’ll look good in green. Goes with my eyes. I might even throw my name around. How long d’you think it would be before I have more bodyguards than you do? You and what army are gonna push me around-or my house? Who’s this ‘Us’ you’re talking about, anyway?”
“I don’t think I ought to tell you,” Fred said, “and I guess what you don’t know, you can’t tattle.”
“Want to bet against a penseive memory?” Al answered. “My dad might be interested in knowing about someone who’s part of a gang organized to harass other students. I’m sure he’ll find out who the other members are quickly enough.” His voice was tight with anger and his eyes burned with it, but his face was still, almost cold. Scorpius was impressed… and inspired.
“You might not want to bet against the wand that defeated the most evil wizard in an age, either.” Scorpius marveled at how he managed to keep his voice steady when his stomach was churning. Still, there was something-some curious reserve of pride, or trust in Al, or maybe just a spirit of sheer bluffing-that kept him upright, his eyes slitted disdainfully at the older boy, unwilling to back down. It was a strange, but he couldn’t help liking it just a bit. Power, a faint voice whispered in his head. Scorpius thought it might come in handy. He drew the wand slowly, looking at it rather than Fred as if he couldn’t be bothered. “Oh, did I forget to mention it? See, I don’t think of it, really… it’s only my wand. It just happens to be the same one that defeated Voldemort.” He couldn’t help smiling at the slender, well-polished stick. It was another connection to his best mate, however roundabout.
“That’s not possible,” Fred said, his voice a little too uncertain to be dismissive.
“Ask any Chocolate Frog Card,” Al said. He was grinning, but it was a cold expression, a shark’s grin. “Or my dad, he’d be happy to set you straight.”
Unexpectedly, Rose’s voice piped up beside Al and Scorpius. The boys somehow managed to keep from betraying their surprise. “And just so you know…where they go, I go. And I’m not the least bit afraid to write to Grandmum.”
“You wouldn’t. You can’t No one is supposed to disturb Grandmum, it’s not good for her heart,” Fred argued, but he frankly sounded a little scared. Even Gerry looked around as if seeking the source of Fred’s alarm.
“You’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t come to that, won’t you?” James said. He seemed to have stepped in firmly on their side, houses notwithstanding. “I’m sure that Dad can see to it she’s sitting down if it does.”
“I won’t forget this, James,” Fred hissed. But he was already backing away.
“I’m counting on it,” James said grimly. He shut the compartment door-and leaned on it. Everyone seemed to release a pent-up breath at the same moment.
“Blimey, Rose,” Louis said weakly. “You played the Grandmum card against Fred.”
“’Bout time someone did,” James said. “I’m voting for Gryffindor for you lot.”
“Not while Fred is there. I won’t.” Scorpius folded his arms. He had never felt so obstinate in his life, and suddenly he didn’t care who knew it.
“Seconded, mate,” Al said, mirroring Scorpius’ posture.
“Rosie?” James turned inquiring eyes on Rose. Louis was too busy trying to collect his jaw from the floor.
Rose abused the carpet with the toe of her shoe again. “Look at it this way, James-Gryffindor is always chock-full of good Quidditch players. I might not make the team until Sixth Year, if then, with all that competition,” she argued. “What I need is to find a House where I can stand out sooner, because I-I’m going professional!” she finished hotly, giving up on that equivocating toe with a decisive stomp. “So… no Gryffindor for me, either.” She folded her arms now as well.
Scorpius relaxed from his own defensive posture. “She does it better than we do,” he observed to Al.
“Did any of you stop to think where you’ll be if not Gryffindor?”
Louis was completely nonplussed when Lysander and Lorcan both broke out in hearty laughter. Eventually Rose, Al, and Scorpius joined in.
“What d’you think we’ve been talking about the whole train ride?” Al finally said when they’d recovered somewhat.
James sighed. “You know I was only fooling, earlier,” he said to Al, almost pleadingly. “If it comes to it, there’s no way I’m siding with Fred over you. Bloody hell! If you’re not in Gryffindor, and you make another house team… we’ll play against each other!” James was aghast. Louis looked quite grave, and even Lorcan and Lysander seemed at a loss for once.
Al, too, seemed taken aback by the thought. “I know, James. But… Quidditch is Quidditch, and family is family.”
“What about him?” James pointed his chin at Scorpius. Scorpius felt his earlier bravado falter.
“He’s as good as,” Al said. “We share the same birthday. We’ve both got old Ollivander wands, and no, that was no joke that his is THAT wand,” Al said. “That has to mean something.”
“He’s got a point,” Rose said. “There’s no such thing as coincidence, James. Maybe for Muggles, but not for us. Good way to keep that quiet, incidentally,” she added.
That has belated occurred to Scorpius as well, but he'd begun to get the idea that he might need leverage more than anonymity.
“Hm.” James looked at Scorpius. It was a thoughtful sort of expression, but he refused to say anything beyond that noncommittal sound.
“Forget Houses for a moment, and relations. Every Pureblood on this rock is a billionth cousin or some such through the Black family, anyway," Louis waved off centuries of genealogy with a careless gesture. "This shit with Fred is real,” he said gravely. “What are we supposed to do about it? It’s not just him and his thuggish mates. He’ll start a war with the contents of Uncle George’s store.”
“We’ve got an arsenal of our own if it comes to that,” Lysander said. He and Lorcan exuded a sort of quiet confidence.
“Teddy would know what to do,” James said. A peculiar little dent formed beside his mouth, and Scorpius guessed that he was biting the inside of his cheek.
“Well, Teddy’s not here,” Rose said. It was less exasperated than it might have been.
“War is not the answer,” Al said. The authoritative voice was back. “I think Rose has the right of it. I know we’re not supposed to upset her, but we need Grandmum involved. If this goes too far, people could get hurt-and that includes Fred’s sorry self.”
“Better you write it than me, little cousin,” James said, throwing up his hands in Rose's general direction.
“Yes, but… I think, begging everyone’s pardon… you’d have to sign it. I mean, you’re in the same house as Fred. If we’re all in a different house than you are…” Scorpius trailed off, not sure how to quite explain what he meant.
“Not the worst idea I’ve heard all day,” Louis remarked. He eyed Scorpius. “I might have to tell Nicky to make room for you in Ravenclaw.” His tone was almost friendly.
“Are we looking at the future firm of Egghead, Egghead, and Swot?” James shifted mercurially back to teasing and draped a heavy arm over both Al and Scorpius, drawing them into a rough sideways hug. Rose dodged his other arm, protesting all the while.
Weasleys and Potters, Scorpius deduced, were very tactile creatures. All this hugging would take some getting used to; Father (and much more so, Grandmother) seemed to leave hugs for special occasions-something to be taken out perhaps once daily, like the dinner place settings. It was getting easier, though, especially since they all had hints of the same Muggle cleaning potions smell. That scent was rapidly becoming a reassuring rather than a strange one.
“Brains are welcome in Hufflepuff, too, you know,” Lysander said. His tone was mild, but Scorpius thought he detected a hint of defensiveness.
“Not quite so much in Gryffindor, though,” Lorcan whispered. He leaned in between Al and Scorpius, so Scorpius assumed it was addressed to both of them. “Interferes with rushing in where angels fear to tread.”
“I suppose,” Scorpius said, thinking aloud, “if it’s unpopular to be in Slytherin and very popular to be in Gryffindor, then you would actually have to be braver to be a Slytherin.”
“That… makes a weird sort of sense,” Rose said. She shook her head and managed to include both Al and Scorpius in the gesture. “You two are a pair.”
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” James said, switching back to seriousness. “That’s the whistle for the Hogs Gap bridge. We need to be dressed before the train stops.”
Louis, Lysander, and Lorcan headed back to their own compartments. All was quiet but for trunks thumping and robes rustling for the next several minutes. Once they were all in school robes, with daylight almost gone, the mood in the compartment grew entirely serious.
Scorpius checked the cuffs of his student robe. He’d practiced putting it on in front of the mirror a dozen times, and he could probably put it on in his sleep. Al was considerably less practiced, as evidenced by Rose having to help him untangle his head from one of his own sleeves. He felt James’ hand fall heavily on his shoulder and looked up, startled.
“Rose is right about coincidence, you know,” James said. He may not have looked much like Mr. Potter, but there as a certain hint of grave kindness in his eyes that Scorpius found familiar. “I’d rather claim you than Fred any day.” Al got free of his robe just as the train groaned to a stop, and James pulled away. Apparently he wasn't willing to concede that much in front of his brother.
Scorpius managed a weak smile. “Faint praise,” he choked out. James laughed, all traces of gravity gone in an instant, and charged down the corridor with his irritated owl bouncing behind him in its cage.
“Time to follow the bouncing maniac,” Rose said. Her complaining was back, though it didn’t quite mask the aura of nerves and excitement about her. Or maybe Scorpius was projecting. Al shot him a nervous grin and followed Rose, and Scorpius hastened after.
The air was chill on the Hogsmeade platform. The chaos was more complete than at Platform 9 3/4, since it was all children and luggage, cats and owls, directed only by taller students with badges. There wasn’t a grownup in sight-
Scorpius stopped short, in his thoughts and in fact. Standing at the edge of the platform was a grownup. A mountain of a man, almost literally. His robes spread wide and roughly brown around his great boats of feet, and bits of foliage caught in them like shrubs on the lower slopes. His vast beard and hair flowed gray and white, making the topmost part of him into a dingy late-spring mountain peak. He waved a great, rough, red, snow-shovel hand and called, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years this way!” With the other hand he piled First Years’ luggage on a cart with no visible means of propulsion, much like the ones the older students were entering.
“He looks too big to be allowed,” Scorpius said, edging subtly closer to Al.
Al, however, showed no signs of hesitation. “Hi, Hagrid!” he yelled. Hagrid scooped Al’s trunk as if it was a balled-up parchment.
“Hoy, is that Al? An’ Rosie! Who’s yer friend?”
“Shouldn’t that be ‘Mr. Hagrid,’ or something?” Scorpius asked, feeling no less alarmed than before. Al dragged him right to the feet of the giant, for a giant he surely must be. At the very least, a half-giant.
“This is my best mate in the whole world, Scorpius Malfoy,” Al said happily, oblivious to Scorpius' consternation. “He’s coming with us to tea on Friday, that’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Oh,” Hagrid looked confused and concerned behind his heap of a beard. “Er… I reckon it’s all right.”
Scorpius swallowed heavily. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hagrid,” he quavered. Just then, Agate interrupted with a flurry of wings and unhappy sounds. Al tried to shuffle his other bag to reach around and soothe her.
“Don’t worry, I have her, Al,” Scorpius said. He petted Agate’s neck through the bars of the cage. She gently nibbled his finger and Scorpius wondered if he should feel guilty for falling in love with his best friend’s owl.
“Eh, she likes you,” Hagrid said. He sounded surprised, but his puzzled expression had a pleased rather than a worried look to it now. It made him look a bit more Father-Christmas-like rather than wild-man-like, and Scorpius relaxed fractionally. “Right, time fer all that later! Get in the boat, children! Ye’ll not want to be late fer supper!” Far more gently than he’d treated the trunks, he nestled Agate’s cage on the baggage wagon amongst the other owls. The cats curled up in their own favored places amid the trunks and bags, sniffing noses with each other and occasionally hissing someone away from their declared spot.
All this to-do had left them the last first years on the platform. Scorpius fell into the end of the queue behind Rose and Al, and they shuffled their way to the boat dock.
Suddenly, Scorpius was blinded by an explosion of light and sound. In the same instant, he was struck painfully in the back and found himself hurtling toward the water. Equally suddenly, he found himself hitting something resembling a brick wall except-it had thumbs.
“Scorpius! You okay, mate?” Al’s voice penetrated the ringing in his ears.
“Bloody rotten Fred! Scorpius could’ve been killed!” Rose was practically shrieking. It finally registered with Scorpius that he was in Hagrid’s hand. “Don’t make excuses, Hagrid, you know it was him. No one else has access to Uncle George’s big fireworks.”
“If it was, Professor Longbottom’ll get to the bottom of it,” Hagrid’s rumbling voice came through. Almost as an afterthought, he gently tipped Scorpius safely back on the dock.
“Great catch, Hagrid. Are you sure you weren’t a Seeker in school?” Al asked.
“Th-thank you, Mr. Hagrid,” Scorpius gasped. He was as out of breath from hitting that massive paddle of a hand as he was from the explosion. He tried to be polite as he pushed Rose with her fussing aside. What difference does it make, how many fingers she’s holding up?
“A Seeker, hah! They didn’t make a broom big enough.” Hagrid snorted at Al. He appeared to think about it, then patted Scorpius’ head awkwardly. “Weren’t no trouble. You don’t weigh more'n a Snidget,” Hagrid rumbled. “No need to ‘Mr.’ me t’death, neither.” He bundled Scorpius, Al, and the rest of the first years into the boat.
“Scorpius! Scorpius!” Al yanked on Scorpius’ sleeve. As Aunt Andromeda would have said, he was ‘all a-twitter. ‘
“What?” Scorpius blinked at his friend. He didn’t quite see what was so wonderful about being nearly pitched into the lake by Fred.
“Your wicked cool nickname!”
“Nickname?”
“Snidget,” Al said, grinning from ear to ear. “Hagrid’s kinda brilliant, isn’t he?”
Snidget. Scorpius turned it over in his mind. The fastest thing in the air. Slowly, he smiled a bit himself. He thought he might add a little something to his letter home.
P.S. Mr. Hagrid’s kind of brilliant
Does anyone need to know which house they all end up in? 'Cause it kind of took me over a year to get this far... I'm not sure how long it will take to write a Sorting scene... -_-
It got written.
Chapter 5: Five by Five
Chapter 6: Six of One...
...Half-dozen (of an Epilogue)
Comprehensive Fic List
By dracontia
Chapter 4: Four the Win
Characters: Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Severus Potter, Rose Weasley, James Sirius Potter, Louis Weasley, Lysander Scamander, Lorcan Scamander, Fred Weasley, Rubeus Hagrid, assorted canon & original characters
Rating: G
Summary: Two little wizards and one little witch meet in the Hogwarts Express on their way to their first school term. This story can absolutely, positively stand alone, with no reference to any other fanfiction; however, it was written with the intent of taking up the narrative from the end of ‘In Your Debt,’ as the title implies.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling’s characters are on completely unpaid leave in my imagination.
Chapter 1: One Little Wizard
Chapter 2: Two Little Cousins
Chapter 3: Three Little Purses
Photo Post: A Glimpse of Scorpius’ world. These are photos that resemble the Manor grounds as Scorpius knows them.
Photo Post: Agate.
Chapter 4: Four the Win
Al gave Scorpius’ wrist another quick squeeze. This time he felt the hilt of Scorpius’ wand. “Say, I just thought of something!” Al absolutely radiated excitement. “You said that your wand belonged to your dad… and the card says that his wand defeated Voldemort… so…”
“No way,” Rose breathed. “Let’s see it again.”
Scorpius felt another shiver. This time, though, it was of excitement rather than anxiety. Slowly, he drew the wand again and cradled it in both hands. ”I don’t know,” he whispered. “Wouldn’t it be… I don’t know, under glass or something, somewhere? Wouldn’t your father have kept it?”
“Dad says his wand is the one he always had, from when he got his Hogwarts letter,” Al said, shaking his head. “James asked once and Dad told him it wasn’t the one that he used in the last battle and to leave off asking about it. He doesn’t keep any others at home and he and Uncle Ron complain about the spares they have at the office being second-rate.” The words tumbled out of his mouth faster and faster as he went.
“Besides, who keeps a mess of wands around?” Rose asked. She seemed to have caught a bit of Al’s excitement. “This has to be it!”
Al held his own wand close to Scorpius’. “My wand was old stock. Mr. Frost at Ollivander and Frost’s said it was one of Ollivander’s classics. Look at how alike the hilts are,” he said.
Once again Al made Scorpius want to believe. “There is something about them… They might be of an age,” he admitted.
Rose held hers out beside them to compare. “Mine is a new one, a Frost model. You can see how it has a different sort of hilt, and the polish is a different because they have different resins in the mix nowadays. This one must be it!” Her eyes shone with the secret. They seemed even bluer up close. Scorpius found himself fascinated by the jewel-like shade, which shifted in seconds from enthusiastic to thoughtful. “Still… better keep this between us, though-unless you want people queued up around the school asking for a peep at it,” she said.
Keeping quiet seemed like an excellent idea to Scorpius. It further occurred to him that someone might decide that his wand did indeed belong under glass somewhere, and he was already quite attached to it.
“Can I keep it mum that my name is Potter, so they won’t queue up to have a peep at me?” Al asked dryly.
“James says they got over it… after a term or two,” Rose teased.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t look as much like Dad as I do,” Al said.
“If they pile up too deep shall I just whip this out and get their attention?” Scorpius ventured to make his second joke of the day, punctuating it with a wave of his wand that left a little trail of white sparks.
Their laughter was cut short by a sharp, “What’s this, then?”
Scorpius looked up to find James and Louis filling the doorway with Lysander and Lorcan peering in over their shoulders. His first, incongruous, thought was that James looked nothing whatsoever like Mr. Potter. The hard expression in his brown eyes was quite unlike the equivalent on the Chocolate Frog Card, and his hair was decidedly red and rather curly. He looked more like Louis’ brother than Al’s.
“We are keeping ourselves amused in your absence,” Rose said. The lofty tone was back, with added primness that couldn’t mean anything but reproach.
“Who invited him?” James pointed his thumb rudely at Scorpius.
Scorpius felt a wave of sick worse than his nervousness on the train platform. Just as quickly, he almost laughed out loud when Rosie, Al, Lysander, and Lorcan all said in unison-with varying degrees of exasperation or matter-of-factness, “YOU did!”
At the sight of James’ scowl, Scorpius felt a bit of mischief. “Yes, thank you,” he said, every bit as primly as Rose.
Speaking of whom, “His name is Scorpius, by the way,” Rose said disapprovingly. Stilted greetings were exchanged, and the older boys couldn’t quite seem to decide whether or not to shake hands, so Scorpius didn’t try. Then it grew rather quiet and terribly awkward.
Louis snorted and flopped into the seat. “Teach you to play the joker,” he said to James. “Are we staying, or are you going to deliver the sandwiches and we’ll be off again?”
“Do you have any sandwiches left?” Lorcan asked. Scorpius was only guessing as to which twin had spoken, but it did seem that Lorcan usually made the first remark.
“No need.” Al waved off James’ offer of the thoroughly squashed lunch sack (which contained perhaps half a sandwich, by Scorpius’ estimate.) “We handled things all on our own-the three of us.”
“Three pounds of cauldron cakes washed down with pumpkin juice, I’ll warrant,” Louis said. “Don’t come crying to us in the dorms tonight when you get a bellyache.”
“For your information, we shared out my peanutbutter and Scorpius’ quice, and had no more than a reasonable number of cauldron cakes,” Rose said.
“Yes, and you needn’t assume we’ll be in a dorm anywhere near yours, either,” Al added.
Scorpius thought that you might have heard a pin drop on the carpet in the instant, but perhaps that was merely by contrast with the subsequent explosion.
“Don’t joke like that!” Louis nearly yelled, aghast.
“Is this about earlier? C’mon, I said I was sorry,” James whined.
“Did you?” Lysander asked. Scorpius was really only pretending he could guess which one it was, but it was better than calling each of them Lysander-or-Lorcan every time one spoke, even if only in his mind.
“This has nothing to do with it, and I’m not joking.” Al stuck his chin out, looking quite defiant. “I don’t know what house I’ll be in. I can’t guess what the Hat will say; maybe I’ll just ask it to let me follow my best mate here.” He slung his arm over Scorpius’ shoulder. Scorpius really wasn’t accustomed to quite so much physical contact, nor with anyone being quite so proprietary. Still, the idea of being someone’s best mate!
“Al? What… what’s got into you?” James sounded uncertain. He peered at Al with concern and at Scorpius with suspicion.
“I thought you’d heard, big brother,” Al said. “I can manage all right with my friends, just like you do with yours. Go along and have fun if you like, and we’ll do the same-here on the train, and in whatever house we’re sorted into.”
“That would be Gryffindor if you know what’s good for you,” came a new voice. Scorpius turned to find himself facing a sneering boy who seemed-he could think of no better description for it-various shades of rust-color all over, from his curled hair to the skin on his hands. He wore some of the most extraordinary clothing Scorpius had ever seen, including a red dragonhide jacket and matching boots over blue Muggle trousers that somehow seemed substantially more expensive than Scorpius’ own hand-me-downs. A taller boy stood behind him, idly punching one fist into the palm of his hand. Scorpius could see why the boy who’d spoken might want a bodyguard. Anyone that short, who spoke that rudely, probably stood a fair chance of being thrashed.
“I’ll decide what’s good for me without any input from you,” Al said.
“Watch how you speak to family,” the newcomer said.
“Pot, cauldron, Freddy,” Louis remarked with a snort.
“I’d think you would understand best, the only loyal one out of your lot,” Freddy shot back.
Louis pretended to ignore Fred. James was not so quiescent. “Quit talking rubbish,” James said. “Loyalty is how you treat family-not whether you’re in the same House as they are. Go buy a gobstopper, you could use it.”
Scorpius happened to think almost that same thing at that moment, and gave a little cough to hide his laugh. The sound had the unfortunate effect of getting Fred’s attention.
“What’s this?” Scorpius narrowed his eyes at the other boy. Between the tone and the words, he’d no intention of introducing himself.
“Honestly,” Rose said. It was more of a huff, really. “Fred Wealsey, can’t you introduce yourself like a civilized wizard? What about your friend back there?” She peered at the boy behind Fred rather severely, as if silently chastising him for taking up the entire corridor. Neither his size nor the fist fazed her in the slightest. “You have no reason to be so rude to Scorpius; as Al indicated, and I’m sure you would have heard did you pay attention to anything but yourself, he and Al are friends.”
“Bet you a sickle Gerry doesn’t talk,” James whispered to Louis. “I’ve never heard a word in the two years he’s been hanging about with Fred.”
Scorpius rather wished Rose would have refrained from helping.
“Scorpius… that’s an outdated name if I ever heard one. Let me guess: he’s a Malfoy. The definition of outdated. And apparently, skint. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Can’t put enough knuts together for new kit?” Fred plucked at the sleeve of Scorpius’ muggle robe disdainfully. Scorpius yanked his arm away. He felt his lips twisting with disgust and anger. “Guess Malfoys must be the poorest wizards there are-too little color and too few children and they still can’t cover ‘em properly. Shall we show you how to use the loo, seeing as you can’t have a pot to piss in?”
“I take it you were the specific Weasley I was warned about,” Scorpius said, and scarcely knew where the words came from. All of a sudden he felt glib and defiant.
“Probably because he should come with a warning label,” Rose said. She narrowed her eyes at her cousin and Scorpius realized that the look she’d given him earlier was only a faint shadow of cold and disapproving.
“Oi, leave it be, Fred,” Louis said. He was clearly uncomfortable with the situation but hoping to diffuse it. “What’s a different house among family, or even friends?”
“Everything, if that house is Slytherin.” Fred said. He made it sound like a word Rudy would say. “We don’t consort with the enemy!” Gerry smacked his fist particularly hard. Apparently he didn’t speak; he merely provided punctuation.
“What does that mean?” Lorcan asked, wrinkling his nose. It was the most expression Scorpius had seen him make since their acquaintance had commenced.
“It means we thrash them at Quidditch,” Louis said with a grin. “But that makes them the same as all the other Houses.” Lysander rolled his eyes at that.
“It’s more than that and you know it. They need to be kept in line.”
“Go away, Freddy, and quit sampling experimental stuff from your dad’s lab,” James said dismissively. He drew his wand and began flipping stray crumbs into the air and incinerating them, with the air of someone who is so bored with the conversation he had to resort to such measures.
Al held up his hand in a ‘halt’ gesture, not that it seemed necessary. Fred was clearly ignoring James, as James seemed determined to likewise do. “You need to explain that, Fred,” he said. His eyes were narrowed at Fred, and there was something commanding about his manner that Scorpius wouldn’t have guessed at from their earlier hijinks. It certainly seemed to draw out Fred.
“You should know better than anyone, baby cousin, who was on the wrong side-and who will be again, unless we see to it they know their place. You might even make a name for yourself, once you join us. We don’t forget who we are-and don’t let them forget, either.”
“You don’t know who I am,” Al said. His tone chilled the room. “Maybe you didn’t hear my dad when he said the bravest man he ever knew was a Slytherin. You know what? I’m beginning to think I’ll look good in green. Goes with my eyes. I might even throw my name around. How long d’you think it would be before I have more bodyguards than you do? You and what army are gonna push me around-or my house? Who’s this ‘Us’ you’re talking about, anyway?”
“I don’t think I ought to tell you,” Fred said, “and I guess what you don’t know, you can’t tattle.”
“Want to bet against a penseive memory?” Al answered. “My dad might be interested in knowing about someone who’s part of a gang organized to harass other students. I’m sure he’ll find out who the other members are quickly enough.” His voice was tight with anger and his eyes burned with it, but his face was still, almost cold. Scorpius was impressed… and inspired.
“You might not want to bet against the wand that defeated the most evil wizard in an age, either.” Scorpius marveled at how he managed to keep his voice steady when his stomach was churning. Still, there was something-some curious reserve of pride, or trust in Al, or maybe just a spirit of sheer bluffing-that kept him upright, his eyes slitted disdainfully at the older boy, unwilling to back down. It was a strange, but he couldn’t help liking it just a bit. Power, a faint voice whispered in his head. Scorpius thought it might come in handy. He drew the wand slowly, looking at it rather than Fred as if he couldn’t be bothered. “Oh, did I forget to mention it? See, I don’t think of it, really… it’s only my wand. It just happens to be the same one that defeated Voldemort.” He couldn’t help smiling at the slender, well-polished stick. It was another connection to his best mate, however roundabout.
“That’s not possible,” Fred said, his voice a little too uncertain to be dismissive.
“Ask any Chocolate Frog Card,” Al said. He was grinning, but it was a cold expression, a shark’s grin. “Or my dad, he’d be happy to set you straight.”
Unexpectedly, Rose’s voice piped up beside Al and Scorpius. The boys somehow managed to keep from betraying their surprise. “And just so you know…where they go, I go. And I’m not the least bit afraid to write to Grandmum.”
“You wouldn’t. You can’t No one is supposed to disturb Grandmum, it’s not good for her heart,” Fred argued, but he frankly sounded a little scared. Even Gerry looked around as if seeking the source of Fred’s alarm.
“You’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t come to that, won’t you?” James said. He seemed to have stepped in firmly on their side, houses notwithstanding. “I’m sure that Dad can see to it she’s sitting down if it does.”
“I won’t forget this, James,” Fred hissed. But he was already backing away.
“I’m counting on it,” James said grimly. He shut the compartment door-and leaned on it. Everyone seemed to release a pent-up breath at the same moment.
“Blimey, Rose,” Louis said weakly. “You played the Grandmum card against Fred.”
“’Bout time someone did,” James said. “I’m voting for Gryffindor for you lot.”
“Not while Fred is there. I won’t.” Scorpius folded his arms. He had never felt so obstinate in his life, and suddenly he didn’t care who knew it.
“Seconded, mate,” Al said, mirroring Scorpius’ posture.
“Rosie?” James turned inquiring eyes on Rose. Louis was too busy trying to collect his jaw from the floor.
Rose abused the carpet with the toe of her shoe again. “Look at it this way, James-Gryffindor is always chock-full of good Quidditch players. I might not make the team until Sixth Year, if then, with all that competition,” she argued. “What I need is to find a House where I can stand out sooner, because I-I’m going professional!” she finished hotly, giving up on that equivocating toe with a decisive stomp. “So… no Gryffindor for me, either.” She folded her arms now as well.
Scorpius relaxed from his own defensive posture. “She does it better than we do,” he observed to Al.
“Did any of you stop to think where you’ll be if not Gryffindor?”
Louis was completely nonplussed when Lysander and Lorcan both broke out in hearty laughter. Eventually Rose, Al, and Scorpius joined in.
“What d’you think we’ve been talking about the whole train ride?” Al finally said when they’d recovered somewhat.
James sighed. “You know I was only fooling, earlier,” he said to Al, almost pleadingly. “If it comes to it, there’s no way I’m siding with Fred over you. Bloody hell! If you’re not in Gryffindor, and you make another house team… we’ll play against each other!” James was aghast. Louis looked quite grave, and even Lorcan and Lysander seemed at a loss for once.
Al, too, seemed taken aback by the thought. “I know, James. But… Quidditch is Quidditch, and family is family.”
“What about him?” James pointed his chin at Scorpius. Scorpius felt his earlier bravado falter.
“He’s as good as,” Al said. “We share the same birthday. We’ve both got old Ollivander wands, and no, that was no joke that his is THAT wand,” Al said. “That has to mean something.”
“He’s got a point,” Rose said. “There’s no such thing as coincidence, James. Maybe for Muggles, but not for us. Good way to keep that quiet, incidentally,” she added.
That has belated occurred to Scorpius as well, but he'd begun to get the idea that he might need leverage more than anonymity.
“Hm.” James looked at Scorpius. It was a thoughtful sort of expression, but he refused to say anything beyond that noncommittal sound.
“Forget Houses for a moment, and relations. Every Pureblood on this rock is a billionth cousin or some such through the Black family, anyway," Louis waved off centuries of genealogy with a careless gesture. "This shit with Fred is real,” he said gravely. “What are we supposed to do about it? It’s not just him and his thuggish mates. He’ll start a war with the contents of Uncle George’s store.”
“We’ve got an arsenal of our own if it comes to that,” Lysander said. He and Lorcan exuded a sort of quiet confidence.
“Teddy would know what to do,” James said. A peculiar little dent formed beside his mouth, and Scorpius guessed that he was biting the inside of his cheek.
“Well, Teddy’s not here,” Rose said. It was less exasperated than it might have been.
“War is not the answer,” Al said. The authoritative voice was back. “I think Rose has the right of it. I know we’re not supposed to upset her, but we need Grandmum involved. If this goes too far, people could get hurt-and that includes Fred’s sorry self.”
“Better you write it than me, little cousin,” James said, throwing up his hands in Rose's general direction.
“Yes, but… I think, begging everyone’s pardon… you’d have to sign it. I mean, you’re in the same house as Fred. If we’re all in a different house than you are…” Scorpius trailed off, not sure how to quite explain what he meant.
“Not the worst idea I’ve heard all day,” Louis remarked. He eyed Scorpius. “I might have to tell Nicky to make room for you in Ravenclaw.” His tone was almost friendly.
“Are we looking at the future firm of Egghead, Egghead, and Swot?” James shifted mercurially back to teasing and draped a heavy arm over both Al and Scorpius, drawing them into a rough sideways hug. Rose dodged his other arm, protesting all the while.
Weasleys and Potters, Scorpius deduced, were very tactile creatures. All this hugging would take some getting used to; Father (and much more so, Grandmother) seemed to leave hugs for special occasions-something to be taken out perhaps once daily, like the dinner place settings. It was getting easier, though, especially since they all had hints of the same Muggle cleaning potions smell. That scent was rapidly becoming a reassuring rather than a strange one.
“Brains are welcome in Hufflepuff, too, you know,” Lysander said. His tone was mild, but Scorpius thought he detected a hint of defensiveness.
“Not quite so much in Gryffindor, though,” Lorcan whispered. He leaned in between Al and Scorpius, so Scorpius assumed it was addressed to both of them. “Interferes with rushing in where angels fear to tread.”
“I suppose,” Scorpius said, thinking aloud, “if it’s unpopular to be in Slytherin and very popular to be in Gryffindor, then you would actually have to be braver to be a Slytherin.”
“That… makes a weird sort of sense,” Rose said. She shook her head and managed to include both Al and Scorpius in the gesture. “You two are a pair.”
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” James said, switching back to seriousness. “That’s the whistle for the Hogs Gap bridge. We need to be dressed before the train stops.”
Louis, Lysander, and Lorcan headed back to their own compartments. All was quiet but for trunks thumping and robes rustling for the next several minutes. Once they were all in school robes, with daylight almost gone, the mood in the compartment grew entirely serious.
Scorpius checked the cuffs of his student robe. He’d practiced putting it on in front of the mirror a dozen times, and he could probably put it on in his sleep. Al was considerably less practiced, as evidenced by Rose having to help him untangle his head from one of his own sleeves. He felt James’ hand fall heavily on his shoulder and looked up, startled.
“Rose is right about coincidence, you know,” James said. He may not have looked much like Mr. Potter, but there as a certain hint of grave kindness in his eyes that Scorpius found familiar. “I’d rather claim you than Fred any day.” Al got free of his robe just as the train groaned to a stop, and James pulled away. Apparently he wasn't willing to concede that much in front of his brother.
Scorpius managed a weak smile. “Faint praise,” he choked out. James laughed, all traces of gravity gone in an instant, and charged down the corridor with his irritated owl bouncing behind him in its cage.
“Time to follow the bouncing maniac,” Rose said. Her complaining was back, though it didn’t quite mask the aura of nerves and excitement about her. Or maybe Scorpius was projecting. Al shot him a nervous grin and followed Rose, and Scorpius hastened after.
The air was chill on the Hogsmeade platform. The chaos was more complete than at Platform 9 3/4, since it was all children and luggage, cats and owls, directed only by taller students with badges. There wasn’t a grownup in sight-
Scorpius stopped short, in his thoughts and in fact. Standing at the edge of the platform was a grownup. A mountain of a man, almost literally. His robes spread wide and roughly brown around his great boats of feet, and bits of foliage caught in them like shrubs on the lower slopes. His vast beard and hair flowed gray and white, making the topmost part of him into a dingy late-spring mountain peak. He waved a great, rough, red, snow-shovel hand and called, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years this way!” With the other hand he piled First Years’ luggage on a cart with no visible means of propulsion, much like the ones the older students were entering.
“He looks too big to be allowed,” Scorpius said, edging subtly closer to Al.
Al, however, showed no signs of hesitation. “Hi, Hagrid!” he yelled. Hagrid scooped Al’s trunk as if it was a balled-up parchment.
“Hoy, is that Al? An’ Rosie! Who’s yer friend?”
“Shouldn’t that be ‘Mr. Hagrid,’ or something?” Scorpius asked, feeling no less alarmed than before. Al dragged him right to the feet of the giant, for a giant he surely must be. At the very least, a half-giant.
“This is my best mate in the whole world, Scorpius Malfoy,” Al said happily, oblivious to Scorpius' consternation. “He’s coming with us to tea on Friday, that’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Oh,” Hagrid looked confused and concerned behind his heap of a beard. “Er… I reckon it’s all right.”
Scorpius swallowed heavily. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hagrid,” he quavered. Just then, Agate interrupted with a flurry of wings and unhappy sounds. Al tried to shuffle his other bag to reach around and soothe her.
“Don’t worry, I have her, Al,” Scorpius said. He petted Agate’s neck through the bars of the cage. She gently nibbled his finger and Scorpius wondered if he should feel guilty for falling in love with his best friend’s owl.
“Eh, she likes you,” Hagrid said. He sounded surprised, but his puzzled expression had a pleased rather than a worried look to it now. It made him look a bit more Father-Christmas-like rather than wild-man-like, and Scorpius relaxed fractionally. “Right, time fer all that later! Get in the boat, children! Ye’ll not want to be late fer supper!” Far more gently than he’d treated the trunks, he nestled Agate’s cage on the baggage wagon amongst the other owls. The cats curled up in their own favored places amid the trunks and bags, sniffing noses with each other and occasionally hissing someone away from their declared spot.
All this to-do had left them the last first years on the platform. Scorpius fell into the end of the queue behind Rose and Al, and they shuffled their way to the boat dock.
Suddenly, Scorpius was blinded by an explosion of light and sound. In the same instant, he was struck painfully in the back and found himself hurtling toward the water. Equally suddenly, he found himself hitting something resembling a brick wall except-it had thumbs.
“Scorpius! You okay, mate?” Al’s voice penetrated the ringing in his ears.
“Bloody rotten Fred! Scorpius could’ve been killed!” Rose was practically shrieking. It finally registered with Scorpius that he was in Hagrid’s hand. “Don’t make excuses, Hagrid, you know it was him. No one else has access to Uncle George’s big fireworks.”
“If it was, Professor Longbottom’ll get to the bottom of it,” Hagrid’s rumbling voice came through. Almost as an afterthought, he gently tipped Scorpius safely back on the dock.
“Great catch, Hagrid. Are you sure you weren’t a Seeker in school?” Al asked.
“Th-thank you, Mr. Hagrid,” Scorpius gasped. He was as out of breath from hitting that massive paddle of a hand as he was from the explosion. He tried to be polite as he pushed Rose with her fussing aside. What difference does it make, how many fingers she’s holding up?
“A Seeker, hah! They didn’t make a broom big enough.” Hagrid snorted at Al. He appeared to think about it, then patted Scorpius’ head awkwardly. “Weren’t no trouble. You don’t weigh more'n a Snidget,” Hagrid rumbled. “No need to ‘Mr.’ me t’death, neither.” He bundled Scorpius, Al, and the rest of the first years into the boat.
“Scorpius! Scorpius!” Al yanked on Scorpius’ sleeve. As Aunt Andromeda would have said, he was ‘all a-twitter. ‘
“What?” Scorpius blinked at his friend. He didn’t quite see what was so wonderful about being nearly pitched into the lake by Fred.
“Your wicked cool nickname!”
“Nickname?”
“Snidget,” Al said, grinning from ear to ear. “Hagrid’s kinda brilliant, isn’t he?”
Snidget. Scorpius turned it over in his mind. The fastest thing in the air. Slowly, he smiled a bit himself. He thought he might add a little something to his letter home.
P.S. Mr. Hagrid’s kind of brilliant
Does anyone need to know which house they all end up in? 'Cause it kind of took me over a year to get this far... I'm not sure how long it will take to write a Sorting scene... -_-
It got written.
Chapter 5: Five by Five
Chapter 6: Six of One...
...Half-dozen (of an Epilogue)
Comprehensive Fic List