Cursed Love || A Scorbus Story

Two : In Which Two Young Boys Are Sorted

There was a great clamour as the first years got out of the rowboats. Scorpius was surprised when Albus stumbled to some nearby bushes, vomiting as the rest of the students followed Hagrid. Albus spat onto the ground a few times, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I hate boats."

"That's reasonable. Come on, let's catch up." They trotted along, laughing under their breath as they fell behind their soon to be classmates, though Albus looked more terrified than happy. "Don't worry," said Scorpius softly, brushing his flaxen locks back from his forehead. He liked to imagine his mother was doing it, making his nerves disappear. "The worst that'll happen is that you trip on your way up."

Albus shivered. "No, the worst that'll happen is that I'll get put into some bogus house and James'll make fun of me forever."

Scorpius put a hand on Albus' shoulder, but he quickly pulled it away when the slightly taller boy looked at him. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Albus scoffed, but didn't direct it to Scorpius. Scorpius pointed out the trees and things around them, trying and failing to keep Albus' mind off of the Sorting. As they walked, Scorpius caught sight of Hogwarts, his breath hitching.

It was magnificent, tall and dark in the night, hundreds of windows shining brighter than anything Scorpius had ever seen. The roofs of the towers were perfectly placed, giving Scorpius the feeling that he was living in a fairy tale world, as if this place weren't real, but part of a mere story.

Albus, on the other hand, felt quite the opposite way; this place was where he was to make life-long friends, eventually get a girlfriend in, and even play Quidditch like his father and mother had. Even James played Quidditch and Lily would surely follow suit. This place wasn't a dream come true, this was where he was supposed to live up to his family name.

"Amazing," breathed the blonde, his hands trembling with excitement.

"Yeah," murmured Albus, chewing his thumbnail absently. "Great."

Hagrid led the forty or so first years up to the castle doors, right past a memorial dedicated to those who lost their lives during the Battle of Hogwarts. As they passed it, Scorpius made a mental note to look at it sometime this week, assuming his studies didn't take up all of his time.

With his rubbish bin sized hands, Hagrid knocked on the doors, anticipation flooding through Scorpius' veins. A moment later, they opened, revealing a strict-looking woman with her grey hair up in a tight bun, her eyes narrowed.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said, looking over the first years. "Leave them to me."

Scorpius hissed, "That's Minerva McGonagall!"

"Welcome to Hogwarts,"  McGonagall said to them, holding her arms out. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"Noble history," scoffed Albus, his voice trembling slightly. "Yeah right. Nearly everyone in Slytherin's turned out to be a wacko." Scorpius ignored him.