Chapter Three: The American

POV:  Albus

As hard as it was to believe this, when it came to Rose and me, I hardly ever had the upper-hand. She was the smarter one, the nicer one, the politer one, the right one—I never had a shot to gloat about anything. Now I did. She had been going on and on about not tainting the memory of our first day as First Years with gloom (or she was going to throw me out of the window of the Hogwarts Express, or hex me as soon as we were on the grounds of Hogwarts where our magic was legal to use), but there she was, all pouty and with arms crossed firmly over her chest. 

It was rather awkward, really. A ghastly silence had fallen over us since we climbed onto the boat, then followed us off that bloody boat, as we traveled past the grounds of the castle (I couldn't even properly enjoy the Whomping Willow Tree from the distance, not even one single story Uncle Ron had told me about it had surfaced), as we walked on the historic bridge Neville had blown up then repaired, and through the massive front doors of the castle. 

Could it all be because Malfoy had joined us? I mean, blimey. Rose was not a prejudiced person at all, nor was she a believer of grudges and bad blood that was not hers, so why was she acting like this? If I did not have a problem with the guy, neither should she.

Perhaps it was not that she had a problem with him, exactly, but more that she did not know him. She liked to believe she was not shy, but she sometimes was when she was out of her element (which, granted, did not happen often). 

"So," I cleared my throat, deciding to end this awkwardness between us all and get to know each other a little bit more (at least until we were sorting and never had to interact again, if it came down to that), "you have any other relatives attending, Malfoy?"

"Dad's the only child and so am I," he said warily, like he was waiting for a bad reaction (Nia did roll her eyes, but he had not seen her). Poor lad. "But Mum has several siblings. A lot of my Greengrass cousins are here."

"Two are demons," Liam muttered, earning him a quick pat on the back from Scorpius. 

"They're not going to give you any trouble," he assured Liam.

Nia stopped on her tracks, turning around to face the two. "Yeah, they won't," she said, "because I'll be there to kick their arses. No need to worry about that, Malfoy. Not like you ever have."

"For Merlin's bloody sake, Harper," Scorpius hissed, "not everything requires your attention."

"It doesn't," she flashed him a lethal grin, "but seeing as Malfoys aren't exactly known to stick beside someone during a fight, I don't want Liam to think he's alone."

A group passing us looked behind them, eyeing Scorpius before muttering to themselves. He caught this, which explained the angry red tint on his pale face. "And Harpers are?" he bit out. "Last I remember, the history books don't have your family as heroes, either. Don't you all just go into hiding and come out when the trouble is done?"

Nia's grin disappeared. "Fight me, Malfoy," she hissed as she took a step closer, "then we'll see who comes out the victor."

"I don't hit girls."

"Funny," Nia said, "because I don't have a problem with it."

She then shoved Malfoy with more strength she looked to have. He was caught off guard—seeing as Liam had once again moved to hold her back— he stumbled back, crashing into someone and bringing them down with him. 

If I'd been Nia, I'm pretty sure I would have had a wicked smile to show just how satisfied I was, but there was nothing of the sort on her beautiful face. Instead, her blue eyes were wide and her pink lips were saying an apology as she bent down. She shoved Scorpius aside, but offered a hand to the dark-haired girl who had been a helpless victim in the Harper vs. Malfoy argument. 

Rose offered a hand to Scorpius, but he just looked at it for a long moment before settling on standing on his own. He looked at the girl Nia was helping dust off. 

"Sorry," he said to her like it'd been all his fault. "I tripped."

The girl smiled kindly, the sheen of it reflecting off her big, round emerald eyes that contrasted with the cascade of black running down her back. "It's okay. I wasn't paying much attention, either. No harm, no foul," she said despite there clearly being scrapes on her palms. 

Scorpius frowned at them, just as Nia was doing when she examined them. 

"I don't know healing spells," she said remorsefully. Then she did the most shocking thing of all (at least to me); she turned her blue eyes at Scorpius and they were completely free from any form of dislike or indication of. "Do you?"

Scorpius shook his head, no trace of his previous anger at Nia on his face, either. 

"I know one," Rose murmured, stepping out from the background.

Now it was my turn to gape. "You're going to do a spell? Out here in the open? Outside of a classroom?"

She frowned at me as she pulled out her wand from the pocket of her robes. "It's an emergency, Albus."

"It really isn't," the girl laughed, pulling her hands back from Nia. "I'm a rather clumsy person. I get these often."

"Nonsense," Rose huffed, chin raised high as she nudged Nia and Scorpius back. She rolled the sleeves of the girl's robes, a frowning indenting on her forehead again. "That was quick," she said, a fingertip carefully tracing the skin, "you bruised already."

"Really," the girl said, no longer smiling, "it's fine."

Rose tugged on her wrist firmly, waving her wand over her damaged skin. As easy as it was to breathe, the spell had done what Rose intended it to. It made her smile, ending the moment of gloom she had been caught in.

Well, that was until Scorpius stepped forward to take a look at the work that had been done.

"I'm Scorpius Malfoy, by the way," he said to the girl, offering a kind smile that made Rose glare. 

"Emily Taylor," she said, flashing that sweet smile again at us. "Nice to meet you all."

"Al," I said, pointing a thumb at myself before adding, "You're not from around here, right? American?"

Emily laughed as she shook the others' hands, listening to their names. "Good catch," she said. "I moved here from New York."

"New York!" I huffed out. "That's pretty amazing. Why didn't you go to Ilvermorny? I hear it's fantastic over there."

Before Emily could reply, a loud voice cut through the atmosphere. The Grounds Keeper was no longer leading the group of First Years. Now there was a man, tall and burly, with strawberry blonde curly hair and brown eyes, at the head. And he was frowning at us.

"Quickly," he said, "we haven't all day for you lot."

Rose flushed pink, an apology leaving her mouth as she was the first to march forward; Scorpius grabbed Emily's hand, rushing her onward as the rest of us followed. 

When we got there, the man moved his narrowed eyes from our direction to address our fellow First Years. "Welcome to Hogwarts! I'm Professor Horton and I will be your Charms teacher for the next seven years."

Rose beamed, her left hand wrapped around my elbow, squeezing. While some children were dedicated to Quidditch and the classic rock group the Weird Sisters, Rose was dedicated to Charms (and every other academic field that existed). 

"Now, in a few moments you'll walk through these doors and join your classmates. Before you can take your seats, however, you need to be sorted into your Houses." Merlin. Was Hogwarts running out of air? I suddenly couldn't breathe. "They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

I'm going to puke.

Emily giggled to herself, earning a raised brow from Nia. "Hogwarts House names are a lot more normal than Ilvermorny's."

"Hufflepuff sounds normal to you?" Nia asked.

"Better than Pukwudgie."

When Nia laughed at this, pulling in Liam, too, Rose frowned at them. It was not her typical scolding one (which was there because Professor Horton was still speaking and she did not take kindly to people interrupting others), but it was her I-have-something-to-teach-you-ignorant-people frown. 

The line of First Years moved to enter the front doors of the Great Hall as Rose lectured our new friends on Ilvermorny's history (how was she an expert on that, too, if she never was going to be a student there?); I was dreading the entrance, but I was not the only one. While excited whispers filled the air, Scorpius chimed in with murmured curses.

"Scared?" I asked.

"I've got a lot riding on this outcome," he said, looking up at me from the corner of his eye. Something clouded over his features. "You wouldn't understand, Potter."

The Great Hall had come alive as older students zeroed in on us First Years. From the hungry pack I caught sight of James sat at the Gryffindor table, all proud with his vibrant school robes that held the mighty Gryffindor crest and tie. 

I could spot my other relatives, too. Some sat alongside him, others scattered in other House tables—all except for the Slytherin table, of course. It was the one place none of them ever wanted to be.

All of Uncle Bill's kids were present: Victoire, the Seventh Year Ravenclaw who had been given the honor of Head Girl, Dominique, a Third Year Gryffindor who was a hurricane of chaos right alongside Louis, a Second Year also in the honorable house of Godric Gryffindor.

Molly(Uncle Percy's eldest daughter)was also a Seventh Year, but she did not have any of Victoire's shiny badges. She didn't need them, either. She stood out with her flaming red hair and sharp blue eyes from the throng of tamed Hufflepuffs.

"What wouldn't I understand?" I said to him just as the crowd of First Years stopped before the podium. "Not wanting to disappoint your family history, but also wanting to be your own person no matter how afraid you are of who that might be?"

Scorpius lessened the frown on his face. 

"Yeah," I breathed, "you're not alone on that, mate."

Silence fell on the Great Hall, then. The sorting was starting.