The Power of a Name

Chapter 1

R.W.

I enter the Hogwarts Express, waving at my mum and dad as I climb up the rickety metal stairs. I take a shaky, deep breath and tell myself to calm down. Anyways, it isn’t like I am the only new student at Hogwarts; all of the first years must be as apprehensive and nervous as I am.

Get it together, I told myself. You don’t want to make an impression of a scared, nervous, dependent girl, do you?

Over the summer, I had decided that I wanted to be able to create a reputation for myself without using the free pass my last name gave me. In the Wizarding World, the only man alive more famous than my parents, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, is Harry Potter. And he was my bloody uncle.

Everyone knew their entertaining tale, and everyone admired them for it. But for me, they were just family members, people I saw nearly every day. I didn’t want to use my connection to them to make me popular. I wanted people to like me because of my personality, not because my parents are famous.

I glanced at my watch and my eyes widened as I realize the train was going to start leaving in approximately 30 seconds. I better find a spot quick. Out of the corner of my eye, I could already see that most of the carriages were already full. I sighed. Looks like I’ll have to spend the journey with a stranger. I walked to the last carriages in the back, mumbling apologies as I slipped past the carts coming around with candies my dad had told me were to die for.

The last two carriages were sparsely filled. One, with two third year girls whispering and giggling like total airheads. I turned, and saw the other held just a scrawny, pale boy with slicked back pale-blonde hair. Well, at least that was what his hair used to look like. Now, it was sticking up in the back like crazy, showing signs of defiance.

I tip-toed in, (not that it made a difference; I had a noisy trunk, not to mention my grouchy cat, Crookshanks Jr.) trying to figure out what would be a worthy conversation starter. Hello? No, that made me sound prissy. Hi, my name is Rose. What’s your name? Definitely not. She didn’t want to make him think she was pushing him to respond. How about… The landscape is beautiful, isn’t it? I nearly laughed out loud at that one. Today was exceptionally foggy, and you could barely see ten feet out the window. Nevertheless, the strange boy continued being mesmerized by the passing indecipherable landscape.

S.M.

The moment I entered the Hogwarts Express, I could feel the whispers and stares the others gave me.

Is that-?

Yup.

Oh, I’ve heard so many stories about his father. Did you know that his grandfather was one of the…

He better end up in Slytherin, where he belongs.

I knew it was just my overactive imagination working against me, but I couldn’t help the shivers that always overcame me whenever someone recognized me, therefore recognizing who my family was.

The Malfoys. My name has been spit out with contempt and disgust for years, from all types of witches and wizards. My grandfather was one of the Dark Lord’s most loyal servants, and my father was training to become a Death Eater.

My father isn’t a horrible guy, after all of this. He has changed, and he doesn’t want to become his father. He wanted to erase his reputation, but it was already too late for that. He was already pinned down as an ally of the Dark Lord’s. My mother, god bless her, puts up with all the heat we get for our heritage. My parents warned me that students at Hogwarts, and possibly even teachers, might already think I am a bad person the moment they saw me. I just had to get past that, and put the Malfoy reputation behind me and show them who I really am.

Even though those encouraging words were meant to raise my spirits, I couldn’t help but think: what if I am the person people think I am… what if I become like my grandfather, or a younger version of my father? I never told anyone my doubts; I thought they would either laugh at me, or worse- agree with me.

So as I reached the last carriage, I was full of relief that it was empty and I could just sit and think to myself. With the fog outside, I could let my imagination reign free. I always loved doing this, although my father always told me that it was nonsense, and at 11 I should have grown out of it.

I was in the middle of a thrilling tale full of evil queens, untrustworthy jacks, and innocent criminals when someone else entered the carriage. I didn’t turn around, but I saw their reflection in the window. It was a girl, first year, petite with long, red hair. She had amber eyes and a constellation of freckles across her face. She sat down across from me and seemed to be debating with herself on something that I frankly did not have the energy to care about.

After a good ten minutes of seemingly awkward silence, I decided I might as well start the conversation if she wasn’t going to.

“I’m Scorpius, but don’t call me that. Hello. You are?” I sat up straight and looked at the girl who started out of her silent reverie.         

        “I- hello- um… My name’s Rose,” she said awkwardly, rushing out the words like they were bursting out of her. I grinned at her. Maybe I wanted to be alone before, but at least there was someone who would give me a chance despite my ancestry. Maybe Hogwarts won’t be so bad, after all.