Blood Traitor (Scorose Fanfic)

Chapter 15- The Angry Explosion

I walked along the corridor towards the Library, without a care in the world. The school day had finished and I was looking forward to our daily 'homework' session; which mostly involved mucking around with Al whilst Rosie actually worked. Now early October, we had been second years for a month now- closer and closer to when we had to choose what subjects we had to do, as Rosie kept telling us. I, personally, didn't see the fuss- I knew what subjects I liked and I worked hard in them, so what did it matter? I wouldn't say that to Rosie's face though- unless I wanted to get myself killed!

In the end, I had finally told Al and Rosie about the whole Dad situation. They had both been supportive and hugged me (even Al, who wasn't very fond of human contact). However, they had both been rather shocked as well- none of was able to predict that the final outcome would come to that. I hadn't even spoken to Dad since, which had been well over a month by now, which surely wasn't helpful. But nothing could be helped- I was here at Hogwarts and Dad was at home. Taking all into consideration, would still want to talk to me? I'm not sure I even wanted to talk to him either- it was such a scary concept that I was still getting my head around, I didn't think I was ready for the full blow. What if there was this whole other side to him that I didn't even know? Well, it had been eating me up for weeks now.

My thought were interrupted by a sudden commotion in the corridor. A crowd was forming around a few students- there seemed to be some sort of fight going on- and I rushed forward to see what was happening.

As I came through to see- I realized my assumption of what was going on was rather wrong. Lyra and Leandra- the first year Hufflepuff and Gryffindor- were stood in front of a third year Slytherin and a group of his mates; towering over these much younger (and shorter) girls. The two girls, I had seen, had become quite good friends- despite the completely different lives- and both seemed to have settled into life at Hogwarts. Or so I thought.

The guy that stood opposite them, surrounded by his support band, didn't give of the best first impression. His shaved head added to the menacing essence he was conveying and I prepared for what we were going to face. "You are a traitor! So is your father! Slytherin blood should remain Slytherin not a pathetic Hufflepuff! It's disgusting!" His fists were clenched and as he spoke, spit flew out of his mouth- like the venom of a basilisk- petrifying its victims. Lyra seemed just that. Her usual wit and confidence seemed drained by these horrid words- her head hung and an unmistakable tear slipped down her cheek.

"Hey, shut up you! You're talking rubbish!" Leandra was still feisty as ever, her traceable Irish accent reminding me where it most probably came from. Even in the face of this older, scarier student, Leandra was still as determined as ever to beat the threat.

"Oi feisty, look who you're talking to. At least I have normal parents. A mummy and a daddy." He mocked her voice, earning a roar from his companions. "Your fathers, if you could even call them that, are pretty disgusting too!" Leandra stumbled back, a shocked expression flashed across her face; trying to register the poison that had just smacked her right in the chest. She was speechless- as was everyone around them- and I decided that this was the moment I had to step in.

"Excuse me, whatever your name is," I summoned all the courage I could find as I stepped in front of the two younger girls and pushed them behind me- now too close to this dickhead and his threatening gang than I would have liked. I tried to puff my chest and stand as tall as I could- and even though we were about the same height, I could in no way make up for the amount of muscles this guy had, not forgetting the rest of his cronies. Taking a deep breath and a desperate gulp for some bravery, I continued. "But I think what you are fucking saying is pretty disgusting, so why don't you leave these two alone and take your ignorant views with you." I was breathing heavily, like I had just played a match of Quidditch, but I still stood proud. I maybe a Hufflepuff, but I believed my Slytherin was showing. The skinhead just scoffed.

"The name's Flint. Stuart Flint. And you don't need to tell me who you are. You're Scorpius Malfoy. My father told me all about the Malfoys. Draco Malfoy turned weak, he told me. And you're just his pathetic excuse for a son." Laughter and jeering followed, as a couple of his mates slapped him on the back. His dark eyes bore into me, as his creepy smile took over the rest of his face. The ugly teeth in the center of his mouth gleamed in the early autumn sun- which I didn't even realize was possible- and made me hate him even more.

"I don't care what you think of me but don't talk about my father like that." My face was flushing a flurry of red in attempt to contain my anger. Fists clenched and unclenched at my sides. "He's a better man than you'll ever be."

He was laughing now. They all were. They were treating it just like it was all a fucking joke. "Really, are you sure?" He leaned forward and used his large forceful hands to shove against my shoulders. This was a warning, I could tell, to back off before it was too late. "Because for one, I'm not a filthy Blood Traitor like the pair of you and second-" But he didn't get much further.

The pent up anger all seemed to explode at once. I couldn't believe this guy. I didn't care that him and his mates outnumbered me roughly six to one. He was ignorant, horrible, a bully amongst many other things which I probably shouldn't say or know. But one thing I did know was that I hated him. That was all he deserved. He believed in purity of blood and purity of house. That he was superior and anyone else was inferior. Didn't he know anything? I thought the downfall of Lord Voldemort had showed everyone how stupid it was to divide us up into the better and the worse. Seems I was wrong.

The rage I had tried so long to keep down was released in one sudden, violent movement. It didn't matter whether I wanted to or not, my body seemed to working by itself now. My hand had swung back and, seemingly in slow motion, connected with his fat, ugly, repulsive face.