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Chapter 1: Year One, Part One: It Just Takes Some Time...
“She’s not as bright as I thought she was.”
“Are you sure she’s Hermione Granger’s daughter?”
“Correction, its Hermione Weasley.”
“Yes, yes, but that’s besides my point!”
“Oh, I don’t know. Hermione does have a daughter, but no Weasley has copper hair.”
“That is, if you count out Freddie and Roxanne, as well as the Potter boys.”
“True, but they have black hair…”
“Well, it’s a shame really. There’s a rumor saying how Hermione was supposed to be put in Ravenclaw. It was like pre-destiny for Rose to be a ‘claw as well!”
“Well, then perhaps she’s more like her dad?”
“We can only hope, the Hat can make mistakes you know…Ahem, Peter Pettigrew…”
Rose closed her eyes and stifled the urge to cry. Not even in the library could she escape the little stories that floated behind her back. She wasn’t a carbon copy of her successful mother, and never had she imagined that the whole school would expect so much from her.
A month had already passed, and so many people had forced her to push the pedal to the metal. It was always Hermione was this and Hermione was that. There was never a ‘Good job Rose!’ or ‘Your mother would be proud.’ and as much as she would run from the reality of it, it always came down to this:
She was never good enough.
The thought stabbed Rose in the heart. She was only eleven, and right now, every expectation was supposed to be brought to life. She was supposed to be the know-it-all, not the girl that skipped questions on her test. She was supposed to sit up front, hand always lingering in the air, not in the back, doodling in the pages of her textbook. And when her cousin James and his friends brought mayhem, she was supposed to scold and lecture, not giggle and cheer. And yet this was a turn off to many people. Rose Weasley wasn’t like two-thirds of the Golden Trio. She was somebody else, someone completely different. She was her own and even her parents had sent an owl, stating that they expected a little more…
“Hey Rosy, mind if I join you?” came a gentle voice from over her shoulder. Rose turned around excitedly, for she hadn’t spoken with Albus all day. Come to think of it, she hadn’t had a proper conversation with her cousin for the past few weeks.
“Please?” Rose asked hopefully; delighted to see her cousin alone by himself, free from swarms of their fellow goggling first year classmates. Albus grinned at her and laid his bag on top of the table, sliding into the seat across from her.
“You spend so much time in here; you’re never in the common room.” Albus said finally after a prolonged silence. “I thought you hated books.” Rose looked down and nibbled on her bottom lip.
“I’m tired of them staring at me.” She suddenly spat in a furious hiss, causing Albus to jump. “They come over and ask me to help them with their homework. I’m only eleven. I’m not like mum!” Rose ended her fib with a slight sniff and looked away, fingers tapping on the table. Albus opened his mouth, but shut it back close due to his lack of words. He was always awkward like that, always scrambling in the back of his mind for words.
“I’m sorry Rosy.” Was all Albus could say as he watched his cousin chew nervously on her lip.
“Forget about it Al.” Rose whispered. “I’m just going to have to swallow it. They’ll leave me alone sooner or later.” She turned to look back at her cousin who sat there watching her patiently with his father’s green eyes. Managing a smile, she reached into her bag and grabbed a chocolate frog, tossing it over to Albus, who caught it in surprise.
“Where’d you get this from?” Albus demanded. “James and Roxanne nicked our candy stashes at the beginning of term.” Rose shrugged.
“I found it in the pockets of my robes. Now you owe me four.” She grinned mischievously at her cousin’s horrified face. Albus opened his mouth to say something, but once again, no words came out. Instead, he crammed the head of the chocolate frog into his mouth and bit it off, the frog’s headless body wriggling in his clutched fist, its legs twitching, and Rose giggled.
“You look like a child celebrating Halloween.” She pointed out, and Albus grinned at his frog, cramming the rest into his mouth, while Rose made a face of disgust. Boys will always be boys.
“It’s weird, really.” Albus said with a mouthful of chocolate. “We won’t be trick or treating this year.” Rose shrugged amiably as she turned her focus out the window.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you at dinner?” Albus asked, and Rose turned to face her cousin who was standing up to leave.
“You’re leaving now?” Rose asked with a slight tone of distress evident in her voice. Albus frowned, quirking an eyebrow quizzically. Rose was usually independent, and never had he heard her have such longing for company in her tone.
“Yeah, there are chaser tryouts. Don’t you remember? They’re allowing first years back in the teams again.” Albus had now grabbed for his bag and slung it over his shoulders. “You can come with me if you like, I could use some support out there.” But to his disappointment, Rose shook her head.
“No, you can go on ahead. I’ll head back to my dormitory while everyone’s out in the stands.” Rose said quietly. If she could manage, perhaps she could sneak her way into the kitchens and grab something to eat before slinking up to bed early; anything to avoid the reproachful stares and demands from her fellow housemates at dinner.
“Okay, if you say so.” Albus said gently, making his way past Rose, giving her an awkward pat on the back as he passed her.
“Good luck.” Rose called over her shoulder, but Albus’ footsteps had already faded away and once again she was alone. The whispering of the gossiping girls was absent, leaving Rose to savor the quieting bliss, yet bitterness of being alone.
The corridors were empty as a small first year with platinum blonde hair made his way for the staircase. The Slytherin emblem that was stitched to his robes was carefully concealed by the wide shoulder strap of his school bag; his grey eyes were trained forward as he was determined to reach the dungeons in one piece.
“Hissy, hissy comes the little snake-baby.” whispered a crooning, mocking voice of an older boy as Scorpius passed a suit of armor. Quickening his steps, Scorpius forced himself not to look back. He didn’t need to look back to know he was being followed, for the sound of numerous, heeled shoes were clicking on the polished floorboards.
“Look at him, bless his heart!” wheezed a taunting voice, this one belonging to another boy.
“It’s as if he wants to evade us!”
“The little snake is heading to the common room. Poor bloke doesn’t realize we’re Slytherins too.” Scorpius flushed a beet red as his pace turned into a cross of a jog and walk.
“Oi, Malfoy!” the voices behind him shouted.
Bloody hell, Malfoy thought to himself, and as he heard the footsteps behind him quicken, he broke into a solid run. He had no intentions of being bullied and today was not exactly one of his better days.
“Malfoy, you can’t run from us!” A hoarse voice called as Scorpius turned at an unfamiliar corner.
Please don’t let it be a dead end. Please don’t let it be a dead end. Merlin, if you’re listening, please! Scorpius could feel the tears burn in his eyes. Why did everyone hate him so much? He wasn’t like his father’s teenage self in reincarnation. And whatever his father had did in the past had no correlation of what man he was today. Draco Malfoy was a changed man, and though old habits might die hard, he had compassion for his family and was the best father a puny eleven year old can ask for.
Scorpius felt his heart drop to his stomach as the corridor ended with a stone wall. Closing his eyes, he turned around and walked slowly backwards. His back hitting the stone wall was proof that fate must hate his guts.
“So, the little snake has met a dead end.” jeered one of the boys. Scorpius forced his eyelids to flutter open. Three fifth year boys were crowding in front of him. Cassius Flint, Attila Rookwood, and Brutus Carrow, each eying Scorpius with malicious glinting eyes.
“You’re such a coward, no different than your father.” hissed Cassius venomously. “You’re always running, Malfoy. The timidity runs in your blood. You’re whole family is just a line of cowards.” Brutus sneered as he approached the blond boy, looking up at them with fury and contempt.
“Your father was a blood traitor. Your grandfather was a disgrace. And your grandmother…your grandmother was just a dirty—”
“SHUT UP!” Scorpius screamed loudly. “Don’t you dare talk about my family like they’re scum!” Brutus laughed coldly as he ruffled the fuming Scorpius’ head.
“Don’t touch me!” Scorpius snarled, slapping Brutus’ hand away
“My, my, my; it looks like the kid has nerve after all.” Attila mused. “At least there are some guts mixed in with all that fear.”
“I’m not a coward!” Scorpius cried out defensively, and Cassius threw his head back and laughed.
“Then prove it,” Brutus hissed, bending down slightly so he was nose to nose with the terrified, blond boy. Scorpius blinked. He could punch Brutus, but what was he in comparison to two Slytherin Beaters and Keeper? “Exactly, you can’t prove it kid.” Brutus growled. “You’re scared, just like your old man, and his father that stood before him.”
“Watch who you’re calling kid,” Scorpius whispered faintly, and for a moment, Brutus’ eyes widened in surprise, but the action was so subtle that Scorpius failed to notice.
“Would you care to repeat that again?”
“I said, to watch who you call a kid.” Scorpius repeated, finding an ounce of strength in his voice. However, all pride and confidence was washed away when he felt a bone crushing force meet his nose. His back to the wall, but the back of his head smashed into the stone. Clutching his face, he sagged to the floor, the taste of warm blood trickling into his mouth through his parted lips. The sudden pain was numbing, and he could feel the tears freely running down his hidden face. So this was how it must be, to be the dirt of society…
“Care to repeat that again, kiddo?” Brutus whispered in his ear, and Scorpius shook his head, whimpering a soft ‘no’.
“Good, I didn’t think so.” Brutus hissed softly. “You’re a pathetic Slytherin. In fact, while you may wear the emblem on your chest, bear in mind you do not belong with us. If we ran our own house our way, your skinny little ass won’t be in Slytherin. In fact, your skinny little ass won’t be here at all.” Scorpius, feeling worthless and drained, did nothing but nod his head in submission.
As a departing gesture, Brutus ruffled Scorpius’ blonde hair, but it was out of mockery versus affection, his footsteps the first to leave with Attila following close behind, laughing.
“Take care little snake. Wash up that blood, we don’t want anyone knowing what happened to baby snake today, alright?” Cassius crooned, and he too left, jogging after his friends who were already far ahead. And Scorpius sat there, hiding his face in his bloody hands. His hands soaked and crusted with his own blood.
He didn’t want to leave his spot—not now anyway. Why? So passer byes can taunt him at his pathetic, bloody form and marvel at how low the Malfoys had dropped in terms of class. No, he couldn’t give them that chance. He had to shelter the little dignity, the leftover esteem, if he even had any left. But at the same time, he wanted to be seen. He wanted someone to relate with. He wanted just a friend…
For what seemed to be eternity, Scorpius felt a loss of hope that anyone would find him in this empty corridor. So much for his first year; but right when he felt his all-time-low, a pair of gentle hands wrapped around his wrists.
“Hey, what happened? Are you okay?” The voice belonged to a young girl, and from what Scorpius could sense, she was his age from his year. The girl gently tugged his hands away from his face and Scorpius allowed her to do so, feeling safe and comfortable for the first time. However, looking at the girl, his eyes widened in shock and narrowed.
“Weasley,” Scorpius whispered. The girl blinked at him confused.
“Yes, I am a Weasley. Rose Weasley. You must be Scorpius Malfoy.” Rose bit her lip and tucked a lock of her own hair behind her ear. She heard a lot about Malfoys, especially from her father, but could Scorpius really be that bad? He looked more vulnerable than anything. “What happened to you?” She found herself the nerve to ask. Scorpius swallowed.
“I bumped into the wall.” He said, feigning as much innocence as he could, but he knew it was a stupid lie to begin with. Rose frowned and stood up, crossing her arms.
“I may not be as smart as my mother, but I’m not that stupid!” she cried out in frustration. Rose was sick of people thinking she was stupid. Just because she wasn’t her mother, didn’t mean she was as light headed as those stupid valley girls from those pointless, American soap operas. Looking down, she saw that Scorpius was staring at her wearily.
“But—” Scorpius stuttered. “I didn’t mean you were stupid.”
“Yes you did!” Rose accused shrilly, her patience quickly evaporating. Expecting for the rivalry between Malfoy and Weasley to rekindle, it took her by surprise when he did not respond. As he looked away Rose felt some sort of guilt inside. She suddenly regretted her sudden hostility.
“Do you want to know why I look like this?” Scorpius asked quietly, and Rose let her arms drop to her sides, her head cocking to the left as she slowly sat beside the blond boy.
“If you tell me the truth, then yes,” She whispered softly
“Do you know what it’s like to be hated for things that you couldn’t help? For things, for history, that was given to you and you had no choice but to live by it—to accept it?” Scorpius started, eying the end of the corridor. When Rose didn’t respond, he continued. “Perhaps you don’t, but I know your family history, Weasley. And for years my family has taunted your family for something that couldn’t be helped. I guess you can say its karma, because that’s what’s happening today, it’s happening to me.
“Fifth years cornered me here, and one of them beat me up,” Scorpius whispered softly, his voice cracking. “I didn’t want you to know, because you’d bully me too. I don’t want to be bullied anymore…” He turned to face Rose, whose expression had softened.
“I wouldn't hurt you.” Rose whispered in all honesty. “People talk bad about me too.” Scorpius raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“How? You’re Hermione Weasley’s daughter,”
“…which apparently means that I’m supposed to be like Hermione Weasley. I can’t be Rose.”
“Well that’s stupid.” Scorpius blurted out, but Rose rolled her eyes.
“That’s not the issue here. First thing’s first, we need to get you to the Hospital Wing.”
“What? No!” Scorpius cried out. But Rose was already on her feet and tugging Scorpius up with all her might. “I can’t and I won’t. The bleeding has stopped anyway.” He tugged his arm back and Rose stared at him appalled.
“And why not?” she asked tersely. “Bullying shouldn’t be tolerated!”
“Because they’ll hurt me again,” Scorpius whispered softly. Rose knelt down to where she was eye-to-eye with Scorpius.
“They won’t hurt you again. I promise.” She whispered, grabbing hold of the bloody hand that rested upon its owner’s knee.
“You don’t understand,”
“Then help me to.”
“I just can’t let anyone know, not just yet.”
“But they’ll keep hurting you—”
“Then I’ll get stronger.” Scorpius finished, and the two eleven year olds locked eye contact. Between the intense and silent staring as they searched into each other’s eyes, they had a connection. They shared some common ground. They felt alone, and they both understood that maybe what they needed was each other.
Slowly getting to her feet, Rose stood up and offered her hand to Scorpius, who wearily looked up at it.
“I’m not—” Scorpius began, but was instantly cut off by Rose who waved her hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry; we’re not going to the Hospital Wing.” Rose said, a gentle smile hanging on her lips. “We’re going to the kitchens. My cousin, James, introduced me to some House Elves that can make you splendid cakes. They’re so good, you just can’t help smiling.” Grinning slightly, Scorpius took Rose’s hand and was automatically dragged down the corridor.
Rose was running with Scorpius staggering behind her, their fingers tightly interlaced, and for the first time in a month, Scorpius laughed, all worries forgotten.
Rose was his friend now. His only friend.
EDITED & REVISED: 01/19/2013
So, I wanted to have a different take upon the Rose/Scorpius ship that didn’t involve sexual tension and the whole, love/hate relationship. I also wanted to portray Rose differently as to where she was more reserved and like any other child at eleven, rather than the fiery Rose we’re so used to seeing. Not that I have anything against the typical Rose/Scorpius ship and fiery Rose at all, I love them, I just wanted to experiment. Also, right now, they are not an official couple. They’re just friends; I just plan on shipping them later on.
Though the lyrics aren't incorporated to this story, this story isn't exactly a song fic, but it is based off of the song, The Middle by Jimmy Eat World and Time of Your Life by Green Day. The chapter title is a partial verse to the song.
The names Cassius and Brutus are originally from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. They were the plotters of Caesar's death, so I thought that they would make great name choices. The name Attila is of Attila the Hun, a Hunnic emperor that was greatly feared by both Western and Eastern Roman Empires. I’m a freak with names, I am aware.
Anything you recognize from the beautiful world of Harry Potter belongs to the one and only J.K. Rowling!
This story is also dedicated to the one and only ohmymerlin. (You hear that Kayla, this is for you!) She’s a wonderful author and this is my little special gift to her for the lovely story she dedicated to me, which is called Endings. Go check out her stuff, her writing is lovely!