Chapter Five: Tale as Old as Time

POV: Scorpius

"Remind me why I woke up so bloody early?" Lucas Zabini shivered from the cold morning wind trying to knock us back down the hill we had barely managed to climb up. A leaf smacked him on the nose, making him curse as he swatted the thing away like it was a fist fight.

Al laughed loudly at the sight before saying, "No one forced you to come, mate."

I tightened the scarf around my neck as we now attempted to climb the icy stares that led up to the Owlery. "He's right, Zabini. We told you to stay."

"Well, of course you did!" Lucas hissed as he tore the menacing leaf to shreds. "You two twats woke me up in the first place, making all that damn noise. I'm surprised Flint stayed unconscious through your racket."

"We make too much noise?" I scoffed. "How can you sleep with Flint's heavy snoring? Salazar, if I didn't share a dorm with him, I'd never believe an eleven year old boy could sound like an old, saggy man."

Al agreed with me as he picked up his pace, trying to hurry to the entrance of the Owlery that promised divine heat. "I would've placed a Silencing Charm around his four-poster, but I haven't yet learned to make it stick. That, and sticking my shoe in his mouth was an appealing second option."

Lucas snickered. "You should've done that anyway, mate. The kid got the best four-poster in the dormitory, didn't he? He didn't even let us challenge him for it—"

The rest of his sentence was cut short when he was almost launched off the frosted stairs by a rough shoulder colliding into his chest. If Al nor I had been quick to help our new Slytherin friend, Lucas would have fallen splat against the ground before either of us could remember a levitating spell.

Once Lucas was secured (a hand over his heart, gasping), I looked up to find a massive, dark-haired student before us. His eyes were the color of ink—an angry, impatient ink that was surrounded by purple sleeping bags that only made him look like he had just awaken from his own grave.

"Fucking First Years," he hissed, shouldering past Al and myself to climb down the stairs.

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy quaffles was that all about?" huffed Al as he pushed Lucas through the small entrance of the Owlery. "We almost got trampled by a bloody troll!"

Lucas dropped his hand from his chest, color returning to his face. "Macnair," he said. "That troll was Marcus Macnair."

Al and I turned to each other, shrugging at the name before we separated. I walked over to an old, chipped wooden top, pulling out a roll of parchment and my quill from the pocket of my trousers.

"Marcus Macnair," repeated Lucas. When he received no reply, he scoffed and added, "Anyway—that beast is Walden Macnair's grandson. One of the original Death Eaters for You-Know-Who."

"No. Who?" Al asked, snickering to himself when Lucas gaped back at him. He then rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, mate. I get it. Death Eaters, You-Know-Who, terrible wars—it's all rather repetitive."

Lucas looked unimpressed at Al's response. "Look, Marcus Macnair is, in fact, a monster. Walk the other way if you see he coming. If you can't, well...just hope he kills you quickly."

Al scoffed. "How do you know so much, anyway?"

"I make it a point of knowing my family's history," Lucas said. "Unfortunately, it crosses with a lot of pureblood families here in Britain. A lot in Italy, too, which is where my paternal side is originally from."

"Oh, yeah?" Al challenged, pausing his writing. "Who else's family history do you know?"

"Malfoy's."

I gripped the spine of my quill, pressing the point harshly into my parchment.

"Lucius and Draco Malfoy, his grandfather and father, were Death Eaters," Lucas continued. "His grandfather was also an original member, alike Walden Macnair. It is said among pureblood families that Lucius was one of the Dark Lord's favorite servants until his second reincarnation. After that, Lucius was a prisoner and the Dark Lord made his son take the mark as punishment for Lucius' mistakes."

Even though I knew this more than well enough, I could not help the anger that stirred in my chest.

"Grandmother Zabini was a widower, but found herself often remarrying. One of those marriages led her to a Death Eater, a close ally of the Malfoys. That's when my family crosses with theirs. Dad befriended Draco and their fathers talked business and duty. Then, my step-grandfather offered my dad to the Dark Lord as a gift, just like other parents were doing with their own children. Dad took the mark a few weeks before the Battle of Hogwarts."

I glanced up from my parchment to find Al, searching for a reaction. It was not like the Malfoy name could be incognito; the entire world seemed to know who we were and what our history looked like. Still, some things needed to be said gently. Especially to members of a family your family had done incredible harm to in the past.

Yet Al seemed at ease with what he was hearing.

He turned back to his own parchment, but over his shoulder he said, "I'm impressed, Zabini. How do you acquire all this information? Are you secretly a bookworm? If you are, I'm sorry, but my cousin Rose is my limit."

I let out the breath I had not known I was holding in.

"Get it from Dad," Lucas said, taking my inkpot to move to his own worn out table. "Great bloke, that one. Always speaks to me honestly about anything I may have a question to. Of course, Mum throws a fit because I'm not of age, but Dad doesn't believe in sugar-coating things when there will be vengeful tossers in life who'd like to remind me where I come from."

Al laughed a little bitterly. "Must be nice. Dad doesn't tell us much, only what he reckons we should absolutely know—which isn't much according to him. Once Teddy and then James started Hogwarts, the questions piled up and he had no other choice but to dive into it." He scribbled a few more lines in silence before saying, "Dad worries about all us all the time, but especially for Teddy. He's older and wants him to be protected from what's really out there. He thinks the rest of us will be sheltered because we're kids."

"Teddy?" I asked, now finding something I could comment on in this entire conversation. "You have another brother?"

Al nodded, glancing up quickly from his parchment. "Not by blood, but he's as good as. Dad and Mum raised him after Teddy's grandmother died. He was five. Been with the Potters ever since then."

I knitted my brows. If I recalled, somewhere in hazy memories, Dad mentioned something about Harry Potter raising a son that was not his. Although he had not said it with any malice, there had been resentment in his silver eyes that I still could not place.

"Done!" Lucas proclaimed, waving his parchment, making the ink smear at the edges.

"What'd you write about? Almost getting murdered by a leaf and a Macnair?"

Lucas flipped me the finger. "No. I wrote about the sorting, mostly. Dad wanted to hear where some of his friends' kids ended up. He placed a bet, I think. That, and how I somehow ended up rooming with a Potter and a Malfoy."

"Lucky us," Al muttered with a snort.

"Don't be a twat," Lucas said to him. "In Italy, there's a saying that befriending a Zabini brings a lifetime of abundance."

"In Italy, maybe," Al said, "but in Britain, there's a saying that befriending a Zabini brings a lifetime of headaches."

Lucas narrowed his eyes at Al, but within the second he burst out in laughter. I rolled my eyes at the two.

"What'd you write, Potter?" I asked. I did not expect his response to be shoving his letter at my face. "What are you doing?"

"Read it," he demanded just as he moved to tackle Lucas (clearly I was going to be the mature one of the three).

Dear Mum and Dad,

I don't know how to say this, but I rather you find out from me than the rest of the family. I was sorted into Slytherin.

And, yes, Dad, I'm taking it well. You were right (you were, too, Mum); it does not matter what House I am in because I'll get to be myself anyway. Honestly, Slytherin might be good for me. It'll help break stereotypes people have about us. And even if they all turn out to be bad, I've made two good friends already. Scorpius Malfoy and Lucas Zabini. Bit of tossers, the pair of them, but who am I to judge, right?

My cousins took it well. All except for your golden child. I don't expect James will be getting over that one anytime soon.

Aside from that, all is good on my end.

Oh, and Neville does send his love. How embarrassing.

Sincerely,

Al.

X

"That has to be the best breakfast I've ever had," Lucas proclaimed as he leaned back on his seat, rubbing his stomach. "My compliments to Hogwarts' house-elves."

Al parted his school robes, copying Lucas' actions to rub his belly. "Nothing beats my gran's cooking, but this came pretty close."

"Well, my paternal grandmother doesn't even know what a kitchen is, but her cook is fantastic. When we go to Italy he makes..." The rest of Lucas' sentence was cut when from the corner of my eye I caught sight of a girl I hated to admit I had been scouting for previously.

She was sitting beside my cousin Liam, sharing what had to be an intense conversation because Liam looked to be trying really hard to concentrate on it. Like there would be a quiz after she stopped talking. I didn't doubt it; Rose Weasley, with her fire-kissed hair and warm, brown eyes, seemed to be a force to be reckoned with.

I frowned at the thought.

It is not that I have anything against her—or any Weasley—but she made the palms of my hands tingle. She had ever since Dad pointed her out to me back in the platform. He tried to warn me for the fiftieth time that not all of my classmates would be particularly friendly to me, and if that girl, that nameless redhead tugging a dark-haired boy into the Hogwarts Express, did, I should not blame her. Our family had done cruel things to her mother that needed more than nineteen years to heal.

On the train, I had told myself I was going to steer clear from anyone who could have a problem with me (which, I knew, was a lot of people). I was prepared to spend the next seven years at Hogwarts with only Liam (and maybe his annoying best friend Nia Harper) as company. That was the plan. Of course, Liam ruined that plan by befriending the top two people on my list to avoid. So my immediate reaction was to ignore Rose Weasley, but in doing so, I did not think I was being fair at all. I was judging her without knowing her, something I dreaded other people doing to me.

Still...how would I react if the boy whose family tortured my mother tagged along everywhere I went?

"Malfoy!"

I jumped when a roll of bread hit my shoulder, pulling away from my thoughts.

Al snickered at my reaction. "Did you hear what I said?"

"No. Sorry, mate."

"I said if you wanted to go to the Gryffindor table with me?"

"Us," Lucas corrected, elbowing Al harshly on the ribs. "Potter's going to introduce me. Help me expand my circle and all."

I rolled my eyes as we stood. "I didn't know you were aiming to be Mr. Popular, Zabini."

"Mate," Lucas scoffed, "look at my face. I'm already Mr. Popular."

Al and I shoved Lucas, laughing as we walked over to the Gryffindor table. When we got there, we were allowed to witness a red-faced boy shakily hand Emily a flower.

"A pretty thing for someone just as pretty," he mumbled.

Emily flushed pink. "Thank you, Echo."

The boy, Echo, smiled, but from the corner of his eye he must have caught sight of the three Slytherins before him. He blanched, quickly stuttering and trying to move toward the far end of the bench.

Emily raised a brow at his behavior, turning to look behind her shoulder. When her green eyes met mine, she leaped out of her seat to throw her arms around my neck. "Scorpius!" she sung, squeezing hard. "I didn't think I'd see you anytime soon!"

She withdrew her arms to move for Al. "Rubbish assumption," he said to her, squeezing her tighter than she had done to me. "We couldn't forget our Gryffindor friends."

"That's not what the others said," Emily giggled, but dismissed the entire thing when she caught sight of our fellow Slytherin. "Oh. Who's this?"

Lucas' cheeks grew pink at the attention, suddenly rendered speechless.

Al roared with laughter and I smacked the poor git on the back. "Lucas Zabini," I said. "He shares a dormitory with Potter and me."

Emily smiled kindly at him. "Emily Taylor," she introduced herself, "nice to meet you, Lucas."

When she moved to hug him, too, Lucas' eyes practically popped out of the sockets. "Wow," he said, looking at Al and me. "Gryffindor girls. I love them."

I went to pull Emily from Lucas' arms before he got any funny ideas; just then, Rose turned on her seat, flashing brown eyes at us. She smiled when she greeted Al. I couldn't blame her when it diminished when her gaze landed on me.

"Rose," Al grinned, "how's the lion-life treating you?"

"Honestly, Al. I haven't spoken to you in a few hours, not years," she said with an eye roll. "It is going very well, actually. I'm sharing a dormitory with Nia and Emily."

"Our night was fantastic," Harper said to Al as she made room for us to sit. "We've already found a secret passageway."

"Did you?" Al was genuinely interested. "Don't tell me Rose reported it to the Headmistress. I wouldn't be surprised, mind you."

Rose pinched his arm. "I'm actually the one who found it, thank you very much."

As Harper went on to explain their little adventure, I turned my attention to my cousin. He was smiling at his best friend, carefully eating his bowl of porridge. I held back from letting out a sigh. How can I not worry about the lad?

"Have you written to Uncle Alec, yet?" I asked him.

A flash of excitement crossed his features when he realized I was talking to him. "I did," he grinned after swallowing his spoon of porridge. "He replied the same night, too. Dad was proud about the sorting. He didn't say it, but I could tell he was also surprised. I think we all were, right?"

I smiled back at him as he laughed. "Actually," I said, "I'm not that surprised."

Before Liam could find the words of gratitude I knew he was searching for, a tanned-skin boy with dark red hair joined the table.

"Well, well, well," he said, punching Al hard on the back. "If it isn't my favorite Slytherin cousin."

Al frowned, swatting his arm away. "I'm your only Slytherin cousin, Freddie."

The wicked expression on Fred Weasley's face was replaced by a huge grin. "That's why you're my favorite, Albie!" He ran a hand on Al's hair, furthering making it a mess. His eyes then caught sight of me and Lucas. "And who are these strapping young lads?"

What happened next would be one of the many abrupt, hectic situations that I had to accept came with this family:

Two older girls—one blonde, tall, extremely, breathtakingly beautiful, and an obvious Ravenclaw by the crest on her robes, the other almost as tall, with flaming red hair, sharp hazel eyes, and a Hufflepuff crest on her robes—appeared at the entrance of the Great Hall. If it was possible to see steam shooting out of peoples' ears when they were beyond enraged, we would all be seeing it coming out of theirs right now.

"Bloody hell," Freddie squeaked. "I didn't think they'd find me this early."

He tried to run to the opposite end of the Great Hall, but a flock of First Year girls got in his way long enough to entrap him. The Hufflepuff girl snatched him by the collar of his robes, pulling him down to the marbled ground.

"You mixed Canary Cream Pies with the box of sweets Aunt Hermione sent us, didn't you?" she screamed.

"I don't know what you're on about, Molls!" Freddie choked out, trying to fight her off. "You two aren't canaries so this is defamation of character!"

The beautiful Ravenclaw was in front of him now, pulling at his tie, almost pulling him off the ground. "No, Molls and I aren't birds, but Dominique is."

Freddie's eyes bulged.

"When Madam Pomfrey turns her back to normal, this school is not big enough to hide the destruction that's coming your way," she threatened.

"It was an accident!" Freddie struggled against them again, kicking his legs about. "I swear!"

The Ravenclaw had released him, but the Hufflepuff had not. She tugged on his tie harder. "We've warned you about messing with us, Freddie. If you're going to prank someone, you better think twice about it being any of us."

Freddie made a choked sound. "I'm—dying—here—Molly!"

"That'll be the least of your problems," Molly said to him, finally releasing him.

The Great Hall waited until Freddie drew in a breath before it broke out into laughter.

Al, completely unsurprised by the little scene, smiled at the girls. "Lovely as always, cousins."

The gorgeous Ravenclaw, with her blue eyes that had to be magic, sat beside Harper. I frowned resentfully when I had to admit they both looked overwhelmingly alike; Harper could even pass as her younger sister. Of course, the older girl looked like an angel fallen to Earth, and the other looked like one, too, but was really a demon.

"Morning, Al," she said with an alluring smile.

"Al," Molly said with a sweet tone that could have fooled me from thinking she did not have anger issues, "I didn't see you there. How goes things?"

"Of course you didn't!" Freddie hissed from the floor. "You were busy trying to kill me!"

Ignoring his fallen cousin, Al said to Lucas and me, "These civilized people are my cousins." He pointed a finger from one newcomer to the other, "Victoire, Molly, and Freddie. Family, this is Scorpius Malfoy and Lucas Zabini."

Honestly, I was expecting some sort of crude remark from them, but none of that came. Instead, they were in the middle of passing greetings when a goblet being smacked down on the Gryffindor tabletop started us. Angry brown eyes that had the same shape and splatter of eyelashes that Al's did were narrowed at us.

James Potter, I'm assuming.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Seeing as he had found himself back on the table (sat far from Victoire and Molly), Freddie sighed at James. "I know, I know. I'm putting jam on my toast. It's not exactly me, but I'm pretty tired of butter, mate."

"I don't think he's talking to you," Liam mumbled, pointing a finger between James and Al.

"What are you doing here, Albus?" James ignored my cousin and his to continue to scowl at his brother. "This isn't your table. Slytherins are that way. Or have you forgotten you're not a Gryffindor?"

Al inhaled past his nostrils, trying not to frown. "Didn't forget. I have my school robes on, don't I?" He raised the part of his robes were the Slytherin crest was.

The crest only served to piss James off even further. His clenched fists opened so he could reach out and grab Al by the arm, pulling.

"James!" Victoire gasped, eyes wide in outrage alike the other Weasleys.

"He's not welcomed here," James told his older cousin as he still tried to pull Al off the seat.

She stepped in, pushing James back from his younger brother. "Am I not, either? I'm a Ravenclaw—are you going to kick me out, too?"

James didn't seem to have the words to respond, but the damage had already been done. One look at Al's face and something in me snapped.

"Let's go, Al," I said as I stood from the bench, reaching for his arm to help him up.

James took a step forward, shoving once at my shoulder. "Don't touch him."

I returned the shove. "You praise Gryffindor up and down, Potter, but you're the only one who seems to have a problem with him. Slytherin actually welcomed Al with open arms. As did I—a Malfoy."

James let out a snort. "And what? That's supposed to mean something to me? Are you two going to bond over your father's Dark Mark and the fact that—"

"That's enough, James!" Rose hissed after slamming her own goblet on the table. "Don't you dare insult Scorpius. He's been nothing but a good friend to Al—your brother! A brother you've treated like a pariah—"

"I don't have a brother anymore!" James yelled back. He had to have not thought those words through because he looked just as surprised that he said them as the rest of his family did. But he said them regardless, and there was no taking them back. He knew that, too; that's why he sat on the bench, not meeting anyone's eyes.

I yanked on Al's arm. "Let's go."

"Come on, Liam," Harper said in a tone of comradeship, "I actually don't mind being around your cousin for once."

Liam did as he was told, muttering, "I'm sort of ashamed being a Gryffindor right now." She grabbed her books from the table and in a swift movement she was by my side. She smiled at me, following me and I felt something in me melt.

I cleared my throat, not liking the feeling.

"Come on," I told all of them as I moved Al forward.

"Hey!" I turned around immediately as I realized I missed a person in all of this. Handing Al over to Harper, Rose and Liam, Lucas and me turned back as we saw Emily wave her hand in front of James' face.

"What?" he growled at her.

"Did anyone tell you you're an asshole?" James frowned, but kept his mouth shut. "No? Well, I'm glad I got the honor to point that out first." She stuck her tongue out at him and turned on her heels.

I wrapped an arm around Emily's shoulders, directing her out of the Great Hall before any professor could be directed our way.

"I told you two visiting the Gryffindors was a bad idea," Lucas mumbled earning a scoff from me.

Being rejected and judged by people who you don't know might be bad, but having your own blood be against you...I can't imagine what Al's thinking right about now. It made me a bit more glad to have been sorted in Slytherin if I am being honest with myself; I got to avoid all of this mess.