Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (as much as that pains me) all the characters belong to JK Rowling.

This Chapter is from Scorp's POV

Bright white snowflakes swirl around me but don't settle on the cobbled streets. I catch one in my palm and close my hand around it so it won't escape. "Father, Father!" a call out across the white street "Look I catched a snow!" My Father kneels down to hold my hand

"What a clever boy! Go on show me!" He says with a grin as my black mitten opens to unveil my snowflake I see nothing, no evidence that the snowflake was here at all. I feel tears well up in my eyes but Father wipes them away before they have a chance to spill down my cheek. "Hey, don't you cry! That snowflake isn't gone; it just melted into your mitten because it was so cold outside." I look into Father's big grey eyes as they gleam at me

"Do you promise?" I ask

"I promise." He says as he scoops me into a hug. "Now, let's warm ourselves up, I'm getting quite jealous of your snowflake" He takes my hand and we walk towards a stall selling fresh, hot pumpkin pasties. I press my face up against the glass to look at the golden pastry cooking away. Father passes me a single galleon and I turn to the man in bright orange robes

"Two Pasties please" I tell him proudly passing over my galleon

"Why of course Sir, are you out alone today?" he asks as two golden parcels of pastry float over to the counter. I shake my head, mesmerised as the Pasties are wrapped in pretty orange bags with a few flicks of his wand

"Are you here with your wife?" He asks counting out sickles and knuts in his palm

"No!" I giggle and point over at Father standing by the lamppost "My father!" The pumpkin man looks over and his cheery face becomes dark

"It appears we are out of Pasties" he says in monotone, vanishing the wrapped up ones from my grasp "Take your money and go"

"But I-"

"Go!" This time he shouts and I feel the tears in my eyes again, Father notices and strides over

"Is there a problem" He asks, looking coldly at the man, who looks back even frostier

"I don't serve deatheaters or their spawn" He replies throwing the galleon back at my father who catches it with seeker swiftness. After a staring at the man for an awful long time he takes my hand and briskly walks away "That's right, go! You're not wanted here, you never were, Malfoy" tears spill onto my cheeks as we turn the corner as his words echo in my head.

I sit up very straight and catch my breath, I wipe the tears off my cheeks with the edge of my Pyjamas and stare at the clock, 5am, in six hours I'll be on platform 9 ¾ boarding a train full of children who hated me and my parents because of my last name. Sucks to be me huh? I lay back in the Black and silver sheets of my bed and try to sleep. Fat chance, my mind is awake now, remembering being at Diagon Ally aged 5 and the pumpkin man who wouldn't serve me, the Chudley Cannons game aged eight where nobody would sit in seats anywhere near Mum, Father and I, That sweet shop assistant in Wimborne who pelted me with exploding bon bons when I tried to get a chocolate cauldron last year. School is going to kill me.

Since I can't sleep I decide I might as well do something, I wander over to my shiny black trunk with my name embossed in silver across the front. I open it to reveal the undetectable expansion charm that makes it about the size of my bed. Perfect, when the boys in my dorm try to kill me at least I'll have somewhere to hide. In an hour or so Dandy, our house elf, will show up to pack but right now it's just a hug box lined with silver satin. Grandfather wanted it to be green but he settled for silver, I mean I might not make Slytherin after all. Not that it makes a difference, I'll be hated anyway. I crawl in and just lie there, spread out like a starfish staring at the stars projected onto my ceiling. As my constellation, Scorpius, floats by I imagine flying up on my broomstick. No angry wizards or witches to get me, just me and the stars. I decide there and then to ignore anyone who disliked me. I pictured myself walking through corridors with an imaginary bubblehead charm the blocked out dirty looks, sneaky hexes and yells of "Death-eater spawn"

I'm brought back to real life by a thwack on my head with a copy of "Standard book of spells" my cry of pain is followed by an anxious gasp and several loud sobs from Dandy

"Oh Master Scorpius sir, Dandy is so sorry, Dandy d-didn't see M-M-Master, P-pleases forg-g-give me" She throws herself to the ground and wails. I rub my head and struggle out of the case

"Don't worry about it Dandy, I'm fine, really!" I try to reassure the sobbing house elf while moving anything that she could punish herself with from her reach. "I just felt like packing my things myself that's all" I lie, hoping she'll leave so I can grab the murtlap essence from my draw and hide the cut on my forehead before she sees

"Really?" She asks, looking up at me with her big eyes

"I promise" I say, hiding my cut beneath my unruly fringe. With that Dandy leaves the room mumbling about breakfast. I grab the murtlap and pop a few drops onto my cut and sigh. Suddenly it dawns on me that since I lied to Dandy, I'm going to have to pack. I look at the piles of robes, books and various other school things and my head starts hurting all over again.

I decide it's logical to start with books; I pick up the evil copy of "standard book of spells" that attacked me earlier and settle it down at the bottom of my case. Next on my pile is "A History of Magic", followed by "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them", In go "magical drafts and potions", "Quidditch through the ages", "A beginners guide to transfiguration" and "Hogwarts a History" This seems to be easier than I thought the last few books go in (I leave out the copy of "Tales of Beadle the Bard" I'm not five!) and move on. In goes my Silver cauldron (so what if the list said pewter? I'm a Malfoy!) Inside I pop the box of crystal phials and box of Bertie Bot's every flavour beans. When all my quills and ink and boring stuff are in I grab my clothes.

My weekend stuff is mainly black robes and a few Muggle bits and bobs like jeans that are pretty boring but when it comes to my uniform I'm transfixed. The three black cloaks are lined with white, the grey jumpers have white edges and the ties are plain too I know that right after the sorting ceremony they'll change, probably green knowing my luck. I fold them up again and put them in the case. Then I turn to my walls my Divinators posters come down and get rolled up, the band of seers are pictured all across my walls. Then come The Wimborne Wasps, my Quidditch team, I can't help thinking the yellow and black would really suit the walls in a Hufflepuff dorm. My folded bed sheets and Pjs have to go in. So does my toothbrush, hairbrush and family photo.

I am sitting on a green sofa between Mum and Father, my hair flattened down with several layers of hair gel, I inherited curls from some treacherous gene and we're forced to turn to Muggle products on picture day. Behind Dad stands Grandfather, his arm around Grandmamma. I wish I didn't have to bring this; I wish I could lie about my surname and make up a family. I could avoid all the problems that came with being me and just pretend to be normal. My father smiles and winks and I from the picture and my mother kisses my cheek. I curse myself for thinking like that and put the photo in my trunk. The final bits are in just as Dandy calls me to breakfast, its 9 already, 2 hours left. Islip on my dressing gown and join Father at the table he grins and me over the Daily Prophet which today bears the headline "GOLDEN TRIO UNITED AT KINGS CROSS TODAY" I freeze, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley are all going to be there, which means their kids will be there. I groan internally as Mum and Dandy bring out the bacon.

Well that was the first Chapter; I love constructive criticism so please review!