unsortedscorpion: (but do not forget what we cannot forgive)
Scorpius was back at the manor for Winter Holiday; for most eleven year-old boys, it was a time of excitement, of family, parties, presents, and traditions.

Scorpius was not so lucky.

It was his first Christmas since his mother's death. She'd passed right before he'd left for his first year at Hogwarts and things only seemed to be getting worse. He was miserable at home and he was miserable at school. He had no friends; at best, his classmates tolerated him but wouldn't speak to him beyond what was necessary for classwork. At worst, he was outright bullied and tormented.

He'd only been there a few months and he already knew the best places to hide.

The worst part of it was being unable to talk about it. If his father knew he was being bullied because of his family's history, he would be upset. He had enough to be upset about.

Firm in his decision to not tell his father a lick of what was going on at school beyond the actual schoolwork, he deftly avoided the topic, picking at his dinner. It was his favorite meal, Blanquette de Veau with a side of Gratin Dauphinois, excellently prepared as always, but it may as well have been a pile of sand for how enthusiastic he seemed about it.

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Scorpius Malfoy

June 2016

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