(Time skip because I'm lazy)
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McGonagall led the first years to the back of and they came to a sudden halt facing other students with the teachers behind them.  Hundreds of diverse faces stared back at them.

Draco scanned the crowd for a certain person, one with glowing turquoise hair.  Draco's eyes fell on Anastasia who was sitting grinning insanely, next to a burly, mean looking boy.  She looked surprisingly comfortable in his overwhelming presence.  She carelessly rested her hand on the boy's shoulder.  His face softened a bit and his furrowed eyebrows returned to normal.  Or as normal as they could possibly get.  The bulky boy tapped her on the arm and pointed to the group of first years.

Now, she stared at the first years as if just noticing them for the first time.   She made eye contact with Draco and waved childishly.  Draco smiled weakly in response.  She grinned immensely, but she quickly diverted her attention back to her burly friend.

Draco frowned.

Draco heard four little taps over the roar of the conversations.  He turned his head to see McGonagall setting a disgustingly ragged wizard's hat on a four legged stool.  She held it loosely, as if it would break apart if she squeezed it too tightly. It was patched and frayed, and the hat looked like it say outdoors for a good year or two. 
The talking died down as people started to notice the hat.  Draco excitedly watched the hat. Not wanting to miss the yearly song.  Then the hat twitched.  A long rip near the brom opened like a mouth - and the Sorting Hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty
But don't judge on what your see
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me
You can keep your bowlers black
Your top hats sleek and tall
For I'm the Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be
You might belong in Gryffindor
Where dwell the brave at heart
Their daring nerve and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff
Where they are just and loyal
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
Snd unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw
If you've a ready mind
Where those of wit and learning
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends;
So put me on!  Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The entire hall burst into enthusiastic applause as the old hat began to conclude it's joyous song.  The hat bowed, bending its crumbling point to each of the four tables.

McGonagall pushed past the first years, holding a long roll of yellowed parchment in her wrinkled fingers.  She stopped walking when she was next to the hat.  "When I call your name, you will put on this hat, sit in the stool, and get sorted," she instructed.  McGonagall glanced at the parchment before calling, "Abbott, Hannah."

A nervous, pink faced girl with long blonde pigtails awkwardly stumbled out of thenline.  She put on the hat and slowly sat down on the stoll.  After a moment's pause, the hat roared, HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table to the right cheered as Hannah dashed to sit with the rest of the Hufflepuff table.  The ghost of the Fat Friar waved merrily at her. Hannah looked terrified.

"Bones, Susan?"

Susan Bones rushed toward the hat and pushed it on way before she plopped on the stool.  After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"  Susan scuttled off, almost tripped on her feet, just inches away from her table. Susan gleefully waved at Hannah Abbott who looked even more frightened.

Draco felt like he needed to gift Hannah a comfort blanket for her birthday.

"Boot, Terry!" McGonagall called.

Terry Boot timidly walked up to the hat, his entire body trembling viciously.

"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat bellowed in response.

The table to the left clapped and cheered.  Several Ravenclaws stood up to congratulate Terry Boot as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy," called McGonagall.

Mandy Brocklehurst walked up, going out of her way to push every student she possibly could. She had golden brown hair and narrowed green eyes.  She walked with her head tilted high as she marched forward.  Mandy Brocklehurst plopped herself on the tiny stool and lightly set the hat on her braided hair. 

"Slytherin or Ravenclaw...where to put you?" the hat debated.  It paused, unsure and obviously indecisive. "To make it easier on my part, why don't I put you in...RAVENCLAW!"

Mandy Brocklehurst smirked and strutted away to her table. 

The other names seemed to fly by within milliseconds.  Crabbe went to Slytherin...logically.  Where else was he going to go, Ravenclaw?  Some kid by the last name of Finch-Fletchley went to Hufflepuff.  Granger was sent to Gryffindor, the home of the arrogant lions.  When "Longbottom, Neville" was called. He clumsily tripped on his way to the stool.  Surpassing all odds, he was placed in Gryffindor. 

Draco's turn was soon.  His heart pounded, it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest and explode. 

"Malfoy, Draco!" called McGonagall. 

Draco took a deep breath.  It's my time.  Here goes nothing, he thought.  Draco marched forward and sat on the stool.  Holding his breath, he placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

***

Draco opened his eyes.

Wait...they were open.  He just couldn't see anything.

"Hello?" he asked weakly.  He tried to move, but he was felt paralyzed.  Thoughts buzzed through his head. He felt anxious. Insecure. It was like a dream where you watched someone you loved being tortured in front of you, and you were frozen in place and unable to help save them.  "Help...please..."

"Draco Malfoy," A deep voice echoed through the blackness.  "You have come at last..."

"Who are you?" Draco fearfully whimpered.

"I am your past, present, and future. I am the Sorting Hat.  Ahhh," the voice said as if it was apprasing him. "Children like you are very rare. As I recall, there has only need one like you before," the hat informed.

"One like what?" Draco asked, confused and eager for this to be over. He struggled to stand up, but his entire body felt numb. He didn't have the ability to move one centimeter.

"A hatblink, of course," the hat responded.

"A hatblink?"

"Once hatblinks put on the hat, they can see the turnouts of their lives and other...one who is destined for cursed life. 

Once who is a seer," the voice explained in a drawling voice.  "Their life shall forever change after the sorting."

Ignoring the rest, Draco repeated, "Destined for a cursed life?"

"Quite possible so," the hat responded. "But perhaps it could change."

And out of nowhere white flashed and flickered in the corner of Draco's eyes, pushing through the darkness.  The scene changed.

A cheerful girl, about twelve or thirteen, calmly stood in a quaint little corner bookshop in the bustling Diagon Alley. She hummed a nonsense tune as her mind drifted to mystical places. People were leaving for the night and it was almost empty in most of the stores. The girl browsed through a section of horribly aged books, tapping her branch-like wand on each novel as she passed.  Quiet, classical music played beautifully in the background.

Her messy hair was blacker than the night, and her high cheeks were tinged with light pink. Her golden brown eyes darted from each sideways title on the spine of the book. She smiled widely as she slid out a thick, hardcover book with the silver words: MUGGLE FANTASY STORIES scribbled on the cobalt blue cover.

As she opened the book and peered curiously inside, a pained scream sounded from the back of the store.
Startled, the girl dropped the book on the floor and she rushed to where the scream sounded. Her heart pounding, she stared at a tall, dangerously muscular man, hovering over an elderly man twitching in pain as blood slowly drained out of a gash in his chest. The tall man sneered insanely as he watched his dying prey tremor in pain. His vicious laugh sounded like a murderous wolf howling at the moon.

"Stop!" the girl cried. "You wretched monster!"

The tall man turned to the girl. His yellow eyes glowed with fierce hunger to kill. The tall man stepped over the body over the elderly man like he was just a little unnecessary obstacle in the way.

"No!  No!" Stop...stop...!" she screamed, walking backwards and hoping for someone to come assist her. But nobody came. She had walked back into a bookshelf, trapped. She raised her arms to shield her face.

The tall man still advanced on her, turning a deaf ear on her pleads. He smiled menacingly, his pointed teeth showing in his wide, evil grin.  He reached both arms forward and snatched her by the shoulders.  His dirty fingernails dug deeply into her flesh.

"No, stop!" she weakly protested, preparing for the worst.  "Don't kill me...please!"

He moved his head to bite her arm, but something diverted his attention from her.  It was the moon.  Iit glowed brilliantly, shining brightly in the darkening sky.  But after one glance, the tall man let go of the girl. 

The man twitched in and his entire body trembled as his legs heightened.  His back began to hunch dramatically as his skin began to tinge with a sickly grey.  His long, matted brown hair shortened to the length of coarse hair.  This clothing ripped as he suddenly grew out of them.  The tall man howled.

He lunged at the girl, his teeth sinking into her arm, which was still shielding her face.  The girl gasped and crumpled to the ground.  "No!" she shouted.  But her shout slowly morphed into a terrified howl.  A wolf's howl.  Searing pain rushed through her veins.  The feeling of burning fire felt like it was being pressed roughly against her wide forehead.  Her entire body was sore and it felt as if needles were constantly being jabbed into her flesh.  The feeling of her bones being stretched and unwillingly extended was truly unbearable. 

The scene changed.

A broad shouldered girl, with vivid turquoise hair visibly against the dress code, shyly walked through the narrow hallways of a cramped school.  She wore a baggy lime green sweatshirt over her white button up long sleeve shirt and a long navy blue skirt extending past her knees.  The girl tightly clutched book against her chest as she made her way through the chatting hoards of cheerful students.  "Pardon me...excuse me...I'm extremely sorry," she repeatedly muttered as she pushed past a group of students to make her way to the entrance of a darkened classroom.
It was empty, and that was exactly how the girl wanted it.

Inside, she maneuvered her way through the maze of tiny desks and walked up to one of the large windows.  She shoved the heavy window open and looked out, staring at all of the fluffy white clouds passing by.  For a moment she just stared, mesmerized, until something large caught her eye. 

A young tan feathered owl flew absently through the sky, a roll of paper held awkwardly in its small beak.  The girl reached out of the window and waved at the bird, trying to get its attention.

The owl noticed her and soared down at her at a stomach jolting speed.  It was propelled into to the window from all of its unescary speed and momentum from the wind and its frantic flapping of little stubby wings, which were surprisingly tiny for its size.  The owl landed stomach first on the nearest desk, shook out its matted feathers and perched on the corner.  The owl dropped the paper on the ground, its wings fluttering. 

The girl reached to pet the bird on the head, but it definitely reached forward on nipped the girl on her long finger.  She groaned and dried it on the inside of her sweatshirt.  She looked at it.  Blood was still rushing out from a harmlessly tiny, yet harmfully deep hole.  She'd be screaming bloody murder if she didn't have so high pain tolerance.  "Well I can see you're very polite."

The owl chirped playfully.

The girl bent down and picked up the paper.  It was a tightly rolled up deluxe edition of the Daily Prophet.  The girl fished through her sweatshirt pocket and pulled out five little bronze coins and set them on the desk for the owl to pick up.  As the girl started to unroll the newspaper, The owl flapped its tiny wings, hovered for a moment, then shot away to the freedom of the outdoors.

The girl's eyes scanned the astonishingly bold headline :

ANTONIN DOLOHOV ATTEMPTS SECOND AZKABAN ESCAPE
Should he be kissed?

The girl loudly gasped, her heart pounding loudly.  "Father, no, this can't be happening," she whispered, her eyes widening.  She dropped the Daily Prophet on the dirty floor, not caring that muggles may wonder what this is.  A memory charm could easily fix their memories without any trouble, but not hers.  This was something she could never forget.  Ever.

She ran away from the room, tears brimming in her eyes.

Darkness flashed just as the scene changed.

A small blond boy was sitting in a tiny compartment surrounded by mounds of sugary candy. The boy looked oddly similar to Draco with the same iconic grey Malfoy eyes and unhealthily pale complexion. The boy fiddled with his long fingers with a bored and terribly lonely expression on his face. His eyes fells on the candy but he did not bother to take one.

Out of nowhere the compartment door is slid open by a smiling boy trailed by a girl with frizzy dark brown hair. "Hi," said the boy. " Is this compartment..."

The blond boy grinned. "It is free. It's just me."

The other boy smiled even wider. "That's great. So we might come in for just a bit - if that's okay?"

The blond boy nodded. "That's okay. Hi."

THe other boy sat down on the rather uncomfortably red cushion across from the blond boy. The other boy ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. "Albus. Al," the boy stated awkwardly.

The blond boy tilted his head, clearly confused.

"Er, I'm - my name is Albus."

The blond boy grinned. "Hi Scorpius. I mean, I'm Scorpius. You're Albus," he said, pointing at Albus. He then motioned toward himself. "I'm Scorpius," he clarified. Scorpius turned and glanced at the girl. "And you must be..."

The girl's face was stone cold and silently angered. "Rose," she informed.

Scorpius ignored it. "Hi Rose, would you like some of my Fizzing Whizbees?" he questioned, signaling at his pile of candy.

Rose narrowed her eyes. "I've just had breakfast, thanks," she said, her voice a harsh whisper.

Scorpius continued, "I've also got some Shock-O-Choc, Pepper Imps, and some Jelly Slugs. Mum's idea - she says, 'Sweets, they always help you make friends,'" he chorused. Scanning Rose's unimpressed expression his silly smile disappeared. He added, "Stupid idea, probably."

Rose sighed.

Albus frowned at Rose and leaned in to hover his arm over the pile. "I'll have  some... Mum doesn't let me have sweets. Which one would you start with?"

Rose aimed a swift kick on Albus' shin.

"Easy. I've always regarded the Pepper Imp as the true king of the confectionary bag. They're peppermint sweets that make you smoke at the ears," Scorpius answered, beaming.

Albus nodded. "Brilliant. Then that's what I'll-"

Rose decidedly whacks his arm.

Albus turned to the girl. "Rose," he said, "will you please stop hitting me?"

Rose opened her mouth for a retort, but she hesitated. "Well- I'm not hitting you."

Albus protectively crossed his arms. "You are hitting me, and it hurts," he corrected.

Scorpius' face fell. "She's hitting you because of me."

Albus tilted his head to the side. "What?"

Scorpius raised his palms. "Listen, I know who you are, so it's probably only fair if you know who I am.

Albus' eyes darted between Rose and Scorpius. "What do you mean, 'know who I am?'"

Scorpius took a deep breath. "You're Albus Potter, she's Rose Granger-Weasley. And I am Scorpius Malfoy. My parents are Draco and Astoria Malfoy. Our parents - they didn't quite get on."

"That's putting it mildly," Rose bitterly snapped. She pursed her lips like she swallowed an entire lemon. "Your mum and dad are Death Eaters!"

Scorpius was affronted. "Dad was, but Mum wasn't," he said. After telling her, Rose looked away. Scorpius knows exactly why she did. "I know what the rumor is, and it's a lie."

Albus looks between an uncomfortably Rose and a desperate Scorpius. "What's the rumor?"

"The rumor is that my parents could not have children. That my father and my grandfather were so desperate for a powerful heir, to prevent the end of the Malfoy line, that they...that they used a Time-Turner to send my mother back..." Scorpius answered with just the slightest struggle.

Albus was still confused. "To send her back where?"

"The rumor is that he's Voldemort's son, Albus. It's probably rubbish. I mean, look you've got a nose."

Scorpius laughed, pathetically grateful. "And it's just like my father's! I've got his nose, his hair, and his name. Not that it is a great thing either. I mean - father-son issues, I have them. But on the whole, I'd rather be a Malfoy than, you know, the son of the Dark Lord."

After a moment of slightly uncomfortable silence, Rose stands up. "Yes, well, we probably should sit somewhere else. Come on, Albus," she said sternly.

Albus stares out of the window thinking deeply. "No. You go on..."

Rose crossed her arms and impatiently tapped her foot. She took a deep breath before saying, "Albus. I won't wait."

Albus smirked. "And I wouldn't expect you to," he retorted. "But I'm staying here."

"Fine!" she huffed. Rose looked with the purest distaste at him for a second before exiting the compartment.

The two boys uncomfortably look at each other, unsure and confused. "Thank you," said Scorpius.

As Albus smiled, his round, green eyes lightened up. "No. No. I didn't stay for you, I stayed for your sweets," he joked.

Scorpius laughed. He glanced out of the door. "She's quite fierce."

Albus shrugged. "Yes, sorry."

"No, I like it," Scorpius disagreed, as he held out his palm. He grinned and popped two tiny sweets into his mouth. "Do you prefer Albus or Al?"

Albus thought for a moment before simply saying, "Albus."

Scorpius smiled. As smoke began to pour out of his ears like the Hogwarts Express, he shouted, "THANK YOU FOR STAYING FOR MY SWEETS, ALBUS!"

Albus laughed. "Wow."

Suddenly everything returned to darkness.

"Who are they?" blurted Draco. "Who was the second girl? I think I recognize her. Wait...was that Anastasia? And the first...I do not think I know her. And in that last scene, is it fitting to call it that? Who are the boys? And Scorpius Malfoy? Is he like a secret brother I did not know about, or at the very least a relative? And what about the four boys, who are they? It can't quite be recent, McGonagall looked so much younger and less wrinkly. Don't tell her I said that."

The voice laughed. "You know them, but not yet," said the voice of the hat.

Draco frowned. "But that doesn't make any sense at all."

"It will soon."

Draco sighed, exasperated. "Can you stop being so foreboding and stop speaking in untranslatable riddles?"

Draco practically felt the voice roll its eyes. "Where to put you...." began the sorting hat, clearly ignoring what Draco had just said.

"You must place me in Slytherin. You have no choice!" demanded Draco. "My father...he will...he'll hear about this!"

"Well he can't. That is the curse of being a hatstall. No one must know. And nobody can see what is happening. And if they could, all they could see is Mr. Malfoy rolling and twitching on the floor. Wouldn't that be a wonderful sight to see?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, yet he was unsure quite what to narrow his eyes at.

The sorting hat continued, "It must be Slytherin, eh?" But you are such a suitable Ravenclaw. You have the brains of your mother yet the fate of your father."

"The fate of my father?" repeated Draco, maddeningly confused. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Curious, eh?" responded the Sorting Hat. "You shall soon know what I mean."

"What if I would like to know now?" challenged Draco.

"Too bad. I have showed as much as i can. The rest will all come to you sooner or later. Just remember, you're special..."

The darkness suddenly disappeared, and Draco was immediately back in the Great Hall. His heart was pounding feverishly as the hat roared out a clear, "SLYTHERIN!" Draco went to join his peers, highly pleased with himself. Seeing the future? Bloody hell, the school would die for that.

Draco sat down next to Goyle. Anastasia was sitting across from him with a sideways smile on her face.

Noticing Draco's stare, Anastasia said, "You know me, and this is my friend, Brendan."

"Hello. You two are adorable," Draco teased.

Anastasia narrowed her eyes at Draco and her hair slowly turned to a flustered pastel pink. "Don't you dare. This girl's not at all afraid to gladly whack you upside that colorless head of yours."

"Don't mess with her, if you don't want you limbs hacked into pieces," Brendan warned, in his quiet, breathy voice.

Anastasia playfully punched Brendan's muscular arm. A faint smile flickered on his lips.

Draco looked between Anastasia and Brendan, mischief dancing in his grey eyes. "What if I do want to mess with her?"

Brendan's eyes widened. He simply answered, "Don't."

"Thank you, Brendan," Anastasia said as she patted Brendan on the back with the slightest smile.

Brendan uncrossed his bulky arms, showing off a proud smile. "Merlin's beard, Ana, I've never seen you this happy."

"I've currently forgotten about my life at the moment," she responded. She reached to grab a golden goblet laden with glittering red sapphires. Anastasia peered inside before placing it back down on the wooden table.

Worry creased Brendan's forehead. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked sincerely, his hand resting on Anastasia's shoulder.

She ripped his hand off and glared warningly, her eyes slightly narrowed, tinged with a slight shade of threatening orange. Her smile had abruptly vanished. "You know very well what I mean."

Draco leaned in. "If you'd like help, you could contact my fa-"

Anastasia stiffened, her lips pursed in irritation. "I can fend for myself, thanks," she mumbled.

Uncomfortable, Draco fixed his attention to the Sorting Hat. Perfect Harry Potter was sitting on the stool with the hat placed on his head. That hat glanced down upon him, muttering and debating on which house that disgusting traitor should torture. "...you should be in...GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco clapped slowly, unimpressed and unamused.

Anastasia snorted, eyeing his unemotional expression. "Did you really think he would be in Slytherin?"

"I can be optimistic...when I feel like disappointing myself," Draco honestly answered.

Anastasia sighed. "I need to bring you back to harsh reality. Fair warning: Now that you're here in Slytherin, your hopes and dreams are about to get crushed and smushed like a bug."

Brendan huffed, tightening his crossed arms. "That's one thing to say to someone."

"It is. The boy is in such need of a reality check," Anastasia stated. She turned to Draco. "Nothing isn't going to be kind to you. Not even those closest to you. You'd have to torture whatever it is back and put it back in its place." She slammed her fist in to table with a mad smile pasted on her face. "Beat it up and strangle it. Show the world who's boss."

Draco managed a weak smile. "I'll try."

Anastasia reached forward and rested her hand on Draco's. "You will suffer, surprise, surprise; It only matters that you make it through your sufferings. Not how, not when. Just that you will."

4105 words YAYYYYYYY
If you read this to the chapter's end, I applaud you!!!!
DRACO AND MOM BONDING TIME