“Malfoy, Scorpius!” Professor Neville Longbottom’s voice rang through the silence of the Great Hall.
A blonde-haired boy, one of those in front, walked towards the Sorting Hat with his shoulders back, head held high.
“Look,” Albus nudged me rather forcefully. “That’s Malfoy.”
I massaged my ribs in pain. “Yes, I know that, Al. I’m not blind or deaf.” I looked as Malfoy put the Hat on his head with confidence. “He looks like he knows exactly which house he’ll be in,” I said thoughtfully.
“Unlike me,” Albus said with a sigh. His face was pale, a sharp contrast with his messy black hair, and he looked like he was going to vomit at any moment.
“Hey, are you all right?” I asked nervously, rubbing his back. “Don’t listen to anything James said, he was just trying to scare you.”
“But seriously, what if I end up in””
“SLYTHERIN!” yelled the Hat.
“There’s foreshadowing for you,” Albus said miserably.
I watched as Malfoy took off his head and walked coolly towards the Slytherin table, from which loud cheers and catcalls were coming. “You won’t end up in Slytherin, Al. You’re not cunning or anything…”
“I am!” Albus said in a plaintive sort of voice.
“What?” I turned to look at him.
“Remember when my mum was baking a batch of cookies about a week ago? Peanut butter cookies?”
“Uh huh,” I nodded, remembering that day.
“Well, I stole two cookies and it was blamed on Stormfur,” Albus said shamefacedly. Stormfur was the cat that the Potters kept for a pet.
I tried not to laugh at my cousin’s guilty expression. “Well, that’s not cunning. You just couldn’t resist the temptation. All you have to do is write a letter to Aunt Ginny and I’m sure you’ll be forgiven.”
“Really?” Albus asked hopefully.
“Mm-hmm,” I said, lowering my tone as a couple of other First Years shushed us with hisses of ‘qui-et!’ “Now just be calm, okay? You look like you’re going to puke.”
“That’s because I am going to puke.”
“Newt, Christopher!”
A sandy-haired boy hurried up the steps and pulled on the hat. “Ravenclaw!” the Sorting Hat decided.
“Potter, Albus!”
Albus grabbed my hand. I squeezed it as reassuringly as I could, and then watched as he made his way shakily past the line of First Years, sat on the stool, and pulled on the Hat, which dropped down to his nose. He sat there like that for about five seconds, and then the Hat yelled, “Gryffindor!”
I applauded with the rest of the Gryffindors as Albus took the Hat off, revealing flushed cheeks and a relieved smile so wide it looked almost painful. “Good luck,” he mouthed at me as he walked towards the Gryffindor table, where he was greeted warmly by James, Victoire, Fred, and Antoinette. James slapped him on the back. I winced for him. That slap, knowing James, was probably not very gentle.
“Randall, Phillip!”
I focused once again on the sorting, and nervousness consumed me. I chewed on my already ragged fingernails.
“If you’re not in Gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you, but no pressure.”*
Right, Dad, I thought wryly. Thanks for the confidence booster.
And then this led me to think what Dad and Mum and Hugo would do if I ended up in Slytherin after all. Dad was probably joking about the disinheriting thing, but they’ll probably not be too happy about it. For starters, a Howler would definitely be unavoidable.
“Ting, Christabelle!”
An Asian girl hurried forward and was sorted into Gryffindor. Mentally I estimated when my turn would be, and realised with horror that it was going to be very, very soon.
“Urqhart, Natalie!”
“Hufflepuff!”
“Weasley, Rose!” Professor Longbottom called. I took a shaky breath of air, and walked towards the stool, trembling head to toe. Professor Longbottom gave me an encouraging smile.
After what seemed like eternity, I took the Hat into my hands and sat down on the stool. Before I put it onto my head, I looked at the Gryffindor table. I saw Albus, who showed me his crossed fingers, and I saw James, Victoire, Dominique, Louis and Fred giving me warm smiles. And then I looked at the Slytherin table. Everyone there looked unfriendly. They probably were unfriendly, anyway. I caught sight of Scorpius Malfoy. He was looking at me, with a cool, bored expression on his face.
Suddenly realising that I must be delaying the remaining two first years from being sorted, I blushed furiously and set the Sorting Hat on my red curls.
“Well, well, a Weasley, are you?” said the Hat. It seemed like it was in my head. “Plenty of brains, I see. You’d do very well in Ravenclaw…”
Ravenclaw! It hadn’t occurred to me that I might be Sorted into this house. I thought it’d be either Gryffindor or Slytherin. My eyes traveled to the Ravenclaw table, where no one I knew was in sight.
Merlin forbid, I thought, panicking. Don’t put me there.
“Are you sure?” the hat asked. “Well, if that’s what you want…GRYFFINDOR!”
The Gryffindor table burst into applause and cheers.
I smiled. I smiled so hard my face felt like it was splitting. Wrenching the hat off my head, I raced down to where my cousins were. Albus, Dominique, Victoire, Roxanne, Molly and Lucy hugged me, James ruffled my hair, and Fred slapped me on the back. Squeezing in between Dominique and Albus, I sat to watch the Sorting of the last two first-years.
Then as Professor Longbottom carried the stool and the Hat away, Professor Mortimer Candlelaine, the Headmaster, stood up, smiling at us all. The babble faded into silence. “Welcome to, for most of you, another year back at Hogwarts. I will give several announcements later on, but for now, it is time for the feast.”
The chatter in the Great Hall grew louder, and my cousins piled food on their plates. I did so too, but before I took a bite, for some inexplicable reason, I looked over to where Malfoy was sitting. He was smiling lazily at something the person beside him had said. Sensing my gaze, he looked right at me. For about a second, we stared at each other.
And then he nodded. Taken aback, I nodded, too, and hastily cast my stare somewhere else.
“I saw that,” Albus whispered at my side. I started, and turned to look at him. “So,” he continued conversationally, “do you think we’ll be friends with Scorpius Malfoy?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrugged, then grinned. “But I know I’m going to beat him in every test.”
“Yeah, of course you are,” Fred said, overhearing me.
“With that huge brain of yours, it’s hard not to,” Dominique said. I laughed, slightly embarrassed, and we dug in.
We didn’t become friends with Malfoy. Over the years, all the Potters and the Weasleys hardly spoke a word to Scorpius Malfoy unless it was entirely necessary, and he applied the same rule to us. When Albus and Malfoy joined their respective Quidditch teams later, he and the other Gryffindor Quidditch players (which included my brother, and Albus’ brother and sister) were at times mocked by the Slytherin Quidditch team. Malfoy never joined his teammates’ jeers at them, but neither did he stop his friends. In our fifth year, Albus, Malfoy and I became prefects, but it didn’t bring him closer to the both of us in any way. Malfoy was, in short, just always present, but he never left a distinguishing mark.
And then, when we began our seventh year, Malfoy became more than just a presence. He quite suddenly entered my world, and it was unknown whether he was to stay…
It was also the year my world was turned upside down.
A/N:*Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, JK Rowling, Epilogue, page 603, UK edition. (I took Ron’s line from the epilogue of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. That line isn’t my own. Same goes for the “beat him in every test” part. But then again, I bet you guys already knew that.) Also, if I recall correctly, Professor McGonagall isn’t the next Headmistress, according to JK Rowling. So it’s Professor Candlelaine now. Well, thoughts and comments, anyone? (: