“So that’s little Scorpius,” said Ron under his breath. “Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother’s brains.”
“Ron, for heaven’s sake,” said Hermione, half stern, half amused. Don’t try to turn them against each other before they’ve even started school!”
“You’re right, sorry,” said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, “Don’t get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood.”
-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, page 756.
Rose turned away from the window as the train turned the curve, and faced Albus, whose face was alight with excitement, his eyes sparkling like emeralds in the light shining through the carriage windows.
“C’mon Al, lets find where James put our trunks and get settled in. I, for one, can’t wait to get to Hogwarts. I can taste the food already!” Rose giggled, as she and Albus made their way down the corridors, ignoring the faces peering out through the window of every cabin. Albus snorted at Rose’s remark.
“I think my mum was right--you do have Uncle Ron’s appetite. You’re just lucky you have his metabolism too!” Albus. “I think this is where James put the trunks, see I can see you’re trunk from here!”
Rose peered through the window into the apparently empty cabin, and spotted her trunk, which was a startling pink, with silver reinforcements at the corners, the lock also silver, looked positively merry besides Albus’ standard black and gold trunk.
“Hmm, I suppose that’s it.” Rose said, smiling as she rolled back the door. They entered the cabin, and settled their bags on the benches on either side of the table. Rose slid in next to hers, while Albus tucked the cage containing Snowflake, his own under the table, where she hooted contentedly, before taking his seat.
Both of them stared out the window at the countryside rolling by, before striking up a conversation about what the castle would be like.
“I can’t wait to see those moving staircases…“Albus said.” That would be a bit of a laugh, getting stuck on one.” Rose giggled at the thought of a staircase swinging beneath her feet, connecting her to a new passage in the castle.
A noise roused them from their individual thoughts, and Rose swiveled in her seat towards the noise. Sitting in the corner of the cabin, the pale, blonde boy whom her father had identified as Scorpius sat, leafing through a book, looking mildly annoyed.
“Excuse me, do you have a problem?” Rose snapped, eyeing the boy with disdain. Scorpius closed the book, and rolled his cold, gray eyes.
“Yes, there is a problem. I’m trying to read, but I can’t because there’s a mouthy brat in here making too much noise.” Scorpius snapped, drumming his fingers on the cover of the book, tapping out a well-known drum cadence; Rose recognized it instantly, it was from one of her father’s cds he played on the magically modified cd player in their house-- “Do the Hippogriff”. Annoyed, Rose yanked her wand from her bag, slipped out of her seat, and stomped across the cabin, her brown eyes snapping with fury. Scorpius withdrew his own wand, and stood himself. Albus took one look at the two, and made for the door, to find James or Victoire.
“Well, excuse me, but you don’t have to put up with it. You can always find another cabin to go to.” Rose said, gripping her wand. A shower of multi-colored erupted from the rosewood and unicorn hair wand.
“I was here first.” Scorpius snarled, raising his left hand, his own wand let out a shower of sparks to rival Rose’s own.
“Our trunks were here first, you were still on the platform while we were putting ours on.” Rose said, her voice dangerously low. She could feel herself becoming angry with this snotty boy, and was resisting the urge attack him.
“I still got in this compartment first, you little red-haired freak.” Scorpius spat.
“I’m a freak? Oh, I’ll show you a freak.” Rose snarled, tossing her wand onto the table at which Scorpius had been sitting. She curled her fingers closed into a fist, and sent a well-aimed punch directly to Scorpius’ nose, which made a brittle crunching sound, and blood began to gush out.
Both Rose and Scorpius stared at each other, shocked, before Scorpius gave snort, and collapsed into his seat, laughing, blood still gushing from his nose. Rose sank into the seat across from his, giggling.
“Oh, Merlin, I’m sorry.” Rose said, between giggles. Scorpius, who had pinched his noise, shook his head while his shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“No, I’b sorry. Dib’nt mead to say dat.” Scorpius said, his voice now inflected with a slight foghorn quality.
They were still laughing when Albus rushed back into the cart, Victoire on his heels, her wand raised.
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