The Forgotten Zodiac

Tyler nodded again and looked around. "When're we going to find the room-place for sleeping? Walking is boring. And these hallways are not interesting. So I am bored."

((Right, Hannah. Considering how much more I'm on dA, do you want to move with to there?))

((I reckon. I'm on dA more, too.))

((It's your reply, Hannah.))

The Great Hall of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, echoed with the noise of students. The Gryffindors were particularly boisterous tonight, for, tonight, they had every expectation of receiving the second of Harry Potter's sons. The noise level died quickly when the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagal, rose to her feet and approached the Sorting Hat's stand. After a typical, brief, speech of greeting, she summoned the list of first years and began reading them off. "Abbot, Elizabeth."
The hall remained relatively quiet until she reached "Malfoy, Scorpius" when the tables erupted. The Slytherins, sure they were about to receive one of their own, cheered loudly, especially the children of ex-Death Eaters. The Gryffindors, merely to show their distaste for anyone connected to Voldemort's old followers, catcalled and booed to outdo their serpentine rivals. Scorpius, betraying his pure blood, appeared equally disoriented by both Houses, and his appearance flicked slightly before he forced it back under control. Beyond that flicker of weakness, he maintained his composure to the wooden stool placed at the center of the stage, pressing his shaking hands against his robes to keep from clenching them. Even on the stool, he kept up his image, back exactly perpendicular to the floor and face expressionless as the Hat navigated its way through his thoughts, emotions, and history. Now the Houses quieted, for nearly everyone had expected an immediate shout of "Slytherin!". When that cry did issue from the Hat, the air relaxed again, and Scorpius slid from the stool and made his way toward the Slytherin table. His sharp blue eyes caught and analyzed everyone he passed, and his hair, the feature that had fluctuated the most during his brief loss of control, had settled on a pure blonde, just shy of white. That combined with the slight sneer on his face as he worked his way past the seven years made him the poster boy for the Slytherin house. This identity, to those who caught it, fractured immediately when Scorpius lifted a hand just slightly to wave at a fifth year Gryffindor, his third cousin and fellow metamorphmagus, Teddy Lupin. The Teddy Lupin that publicly identified with not only the Potters but also the Weasleys, blood-traitors that they were. The Teddy Lupin that was the son of a werewolf and a half-blood. Ignoring that one indiscretion, the young Malfoy reached his place at the end of Slytherin's table and slid onto the bench, turning to watch the next sortings with curious attention.

It wasn't too much longer before another name that caused a clamor was read off the list.

"Potter, Albus."

This name got the exact opposite reaction that the Malfoy boy had gotten - it was the Gryffindors' turn to cheer, and the Slytherins' to shout their disdain.

Albus himself did not know what to expect as he made his way up to the stool and perched himself in it, feeling hopelessly tiny with every eye in the room on him. The Sorting Hat was dropped onto his head, and he heard a small voice speak within his mind.

"Oh, a Potter, are you?"

Albus tried not to look at James, or picture his father's face. He knew both would turn to disappointment if he wasn't placed in Gryffindor...

"Don't be so nervous, boy. I've had this job for years, and I always know where to place young wizards and witches where they will meet their full potential. Now, let's see..."

Here, the hat turned to making a list of all of Albus' traits, but the boy could not seem to hear them over the din of whispers that spoke about him, from the lips of the other students. He felt a sinking in his stomach, and closed his eyes; why was this taking so long?

He caught the tail end of the hat's words as they were projected into his mind. "Yes, yes, I see... you desire to be great. You want to fulfill the wishes of others, no matter what their expectations are, or whether or not you can meet them. And... what better house to help your greatness blossom from within... than SLYTHERIN!"

A hush fell over the crowd as the hat was lifted from Albus' head. Longing for the attention to be directed elsewhere, he practically leapt from the chair and sprinted as discreetly as he could over to the table decorated with silver and green. No one seemed sure of what to make of his placement - even those at the Slytherin table, who normally cheered at having someone else put into their house, only offered a scattered applause and stares as Albus sat down across from Scorpius. He was grateful when the next name was called and attention shifted back to the front of the hall, but he still didn't look up, afraid he would inadvertantly catch James' gaze, or the eyes of anyone in the room.

((Rose is one of the last names called, so I'll get her sorting in after your next post.))

James, seated at the heart of the Gryffindor table, watched his brother's sorting carefully. There was only one possible outcome, but, even so, he became more and more nervous the longer the Hat waited. Surely, it couldn't be this hard to determine his brother was a Gryffindor. When Albus' house was announced, James' jaw dropped, and he stared, aghast, at the empty place where Albus should have been sitting. The situation hardly improved by his tablemates; Scorpius Malfoy actually looked like he was being friendly! Regardless of Albus' capability to refuse a Slyther- Malfoy's false advances, the teen was much too sickened to watch any longer. Instead, he turned to wait for his cousin's sorting. If anyone was a Gryffindor, it was Rose.

Scorpius was indeed trying to be friendly, partially out of pity for Albus. The Sorting Hat had threatened him rather nastily, he felt, with Ravenclaw and even briefy with, perish the thought, Gryffindor. For whatever reason, the Potters and the Weasleys had as strong a dedication to that house as the Malfoys did to Slytherin. It wasn't hard to image how he would be feeling if he'd been placed anywhere but Slytherin, let alone in his wished-for house's rival. Vaguely contemplating such thoughts, Scorpius reached into his pocket and found a reamining chocolate frog, which he proffered to Albus. "You hungry? I know they're probably about to feed us, but it seems to be taking an awfully long time."

Albus looked up at his... fellow Slytherin, taking a moment to process what was being said before actually glancing down at the chocolate frog. "Oh," he responded, looking a bit startled at the gesture. James had always painted Slytherins in the darkest colors, but so far, Albus' expectations were being completely contradicted. He offered Scorpius a small smile as he nodded and took the chocolate, tearing the package open before suddenly looking up as he heard a familiar name called.

"Weasley, Rose."

The red-haired girl stepped up to the stool. It didn't take nearly as long as Albus' sorting - the hat only seemed to smile as it was placed on the head of yet another Weasley.

"Gryffindor!" it announced, and Rose hurried to take her place among her family.

Albus felt a deep sense of longing as he gazed at the Gryffindor table, before feeling something drop onto his leg. He looked down just in time to see the animate candy he'd been given hop down onto the floor, chirping like a real frog as it headed further under the table.

"Oops," he offered quietly, glancing almost guiltily up at his new friend as the chocolate frog escaped.

Scorpius nearly smiled when Albus accepted his offer before Albus turned to watch his cousin be Sorted and reminded Scorpius where both their alliances lay. Grandfather and Mother had both been quite clear about what they expected from him at Hogwarts. Dad had said relatively little, apart from assuring him that he would still be loved if he somehow was placed in Gryffindor, but it was safe to assume that his standards would be the same. School wasn't a place for goofing off.
These thoughts were immediately forgotten when the frog hopped under the table. "I hate it when they do that," he commented before sliding under the table to chase after the frog. The little creature was obnoxiously fast, fast enough that Scorpius slammed his head into one of the table's supports trying to chase after it, rubbing his temples as Albus passed him.

James cheered loudly when Rose was Sorted into the proper House for their family, waving her over toward the empty space on the bench closest to the second years. A first year would never actually sit with the second years, the age gap was far to significant for that; but, on the first night, it was acceptable to be welcoming of your family. Unless they were Slytherins.

Rose smiled brightly at James' invitation and sat down at the appointed seat, before turning to watch as Headmisstress McGonagal said a few more words before the feast. Rose had been the last first year to be sorted, so now everyone waited in anticipation for the food to appear, curtosey of house elf magic.

As she waited, Rose looked over in the direction of the Slytherin table, hoping to offer Albus a reassuring smile that said that she was sure his placement would be fine, but was instead left shocked as she couldn't find her cousin.

This was because, little to her knowledge, Albus was currently under the table, chasing down his chocolate frog. He nearly had it in his hands before it slipped up the leg of another first year's trousers, out of Albus' reach. Crawling out from under the table and looking at the first year in question, his face reddened slightly as he asked. "Erm... might I have that back?"

The first year, Peter Parkinson had been thoroughly embarassed by the chocolate frog climbing up his pants, for there was no discreet way for him to get it out. Those around him had been quite amused to watching him throw up his robes and shove a hand into his pants to retrieve the animated foodstuff. While he had admittedly caught it before it reached anyway particularly uncomfortable, but it left him in no mood whatsoever to be kind to Albus. "What, this?" He demanded, clenching the frog in one meaty fist. "It's not yours. It's mine. It was in my pants."
The arrogant, angry look vanished from his face when Scorpius popped up behind Albus, slightly pink from the fast pace he'd been trying to crawl. "Oh, you caught it for us. Thanks!" His smile faltered when he realized that Peter had not, in fact, rescued the frog for them but was holding it out of Albus' reach. "That's not yours, you know."
Yet, with Scorpius' arrival and Peter's recognition that Scorpius was a Malfoy, Peter's entire demeanor had changed. "Oh, hey, Scorpius. I didn't realize- I was just giving this back to Albus. Here, Al, take your frog." He proffered the, crushed and slightly melted, frog to the young Potter, his best attempt at a rueful grin on his face. "You two want to sit down here? There's plenty of room!"

Albus took the frog back, the redness in his cheeks fading a bit as Scorpius came to his rescue. "Um, thanks," he said, sitting down nearby, leaving room enough for the Malfoy boy to sit between he and Peter.

As soon as he had rested himself on the bench, a bountiful feast of all types of food appeared on the table before him. He stared at it openly, suddenly deciding that the frog wasn't all that important anymore. He did, however, cram the chocolate into his mouth and grab the wrapping back from where he had previously left it, turning over the card to see who it was.

"Oh, uncle Ron again," he muttered. He glanced up to Scorpius. "Do you have this one, yet? I already have two of him," he said, offering the card back. He then seemed highly distracted by the food, but continued to hold out the card with one hand as he used the other to pile various things onto his plate.

Scorpius pocketed the card silently as he too filled his plate with food. He would have much prefered to sit somewhere away from Parkinson, who seemed like a perfect thug and, if Scorpius' memories of his father's stories were correct, would be the son of Pansy Parkinson, the pug-faced girl who'd idolized Draco. However, now that they were over here, Scorpius and Albus couldn't just walk away; so he was stuck. The young boy allowed the group to sit in silence for a time while he searched on the topic, before he realized that Albus likely had no idea what the Slytherin dormitory looked like or where it was located within Hogwarts. "Albus?" he initiated, through a mouthful of food. "Did you want to know anything about the Slytherin rooms? My dad told me bunches of stuff."

Albus looked up at Scorpius' offer, pausing for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I'd like that," he said. "I don't really know anything about Slytherin." He evaluated his last comment, before nodding again. "Nope, nothing at all. But I... I'd like to learn. This is my house now," he said, looking less uncomfortable, but more shy, as he spoke.

The more he thought about it, the more Albus realized that he should have been expecting to be sorted into some house other than Gryffindor. He wasn't brave, he was shy and soft spoken. The hat was right - he always wanted to please, even if he didn't know the person he was trying to help out. His one greatest wish was to become strong enough that he wouldn't have to feel shy around others - that he could be the confident one, leading the way.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized - he was a snake, wasn't he?

Scorpius nodded and started thinking, for it made no sense to barage Albus with unimportant information. This also gave him the opportunity to eat his fill of the house elves food, and he spent a brief moment contemplating if any of the House Elves had known Dobby. That lasted only a second as he realized, even if they did, that certainly wasn't a subject to broach with them. It had been, after all, his Great-Aunt Bellatrix who killed the elf.
However, Peter felt entirely out of place in the silence, so he filled it. "Our Head of House is Gregory Filibus, and he teaches potions. He's pretty nice, for a teacher; I've met him several times, you know, he's a friend of my parents. Our colors are green and silver, our animal is a snake, and our element is water." He looked as if he was about to go on, but silenced himself when Scorpius deigned the conversation with his speech.
"You probably know all that already, or you'd learn it even if you were a Gryffindor. It's pretty basic. What've you heard about our common room? Lots of people think it's in the dungeons and wet and slimy, but my dad told me that it isn't wet at all. It's under the lake, it even has windows into the lake, but it isn't wet!" the young Malfoy explained, rather delighted with the idea of a windowed lake. "I heard, sometimes, you can see the giant squid, or the merpeople."

"It's in the lake?" Albus asked, maybe a bit too loudly or excitedly, as several Slythering second years quickly hushed him and glanced around at the other tables. Albus quickly remembered that the Slytherin Common room hadn't been seen by outsiders for over one hundred years... or, at least, that was what the snakes thought. He smiled slightly as he recalled his father and uncle Ron telling him about the time they snuck in as second years under the guise of the Polyjuice potion, and, miraculously, didn't get caught.

Of course, Albus knew that to announce this would only make him sound like a liar, as there was no real proof of the event. For all he knew, the story was false, and just some bedtime tale that Harry told to entertain his children.

Even after being shushed, the smile, albeit smaller, remained on Albus' face. "There's a giant squid down there?" he asked, looking awestruck. "That sounds so cool!"

With that declaration made, the young wizard turned back to his plate of food, scarfing it down. He swung his legs, too short to reach the floor, and commented aloud, "I bet I could get Kreatcher to make stuff like this. I didn't even now tastes like this existed!"

"Well, under the lake." Scorpius beamed somewhat victoriously at both Albus and Peter, delighted that his fact was the one the Potter had found most interesting. He'd been searching for something else when Albus mentioned the Potters' house elf, Kreatcher. "Kreatcher? He's your house elf, right? I've heard about him, 'cause he used to be my grandmother's..." Scorpius drifted off, wondering if it was okay to mention his family around Albus. His grandfather, Lucius Malfoy, always seemed to get mad whenever the Potters came up; and the reverse might be true in the Potter household.

(( DBL RPLY? WHY HNNH T FTS PRFCTLY!))

For a moment, Scorpius looked like he was about to rigorously defend Draco's reputation. He stopped himself when he realized that Albus was merely trying to be reassuring and recalled his conversation with Draco before coming to Hogwarts. There would be enough arguments about Draco without isolating one of the few allies that was likely to be of any help. Before he had to reach for another topic, his new friend introduced one for him, slightly awkward as it might be. "...My mother told me not to write if I wasn't. She said if she didn't hear from me in a week, she'd assume I'd gotten Hufflepuff or something and try to get pregnant again." Seeing Albus' look of horror, he hurried to clarify that statement. "I'm sure she didn't mean it that much. Only if I got something she really hated, like Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Ravenclaw probably would have been okay."