Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple, and as the little family bobbed across the rumbling road toward the great sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Three large cages rattled on top of the laden trolleys the children were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly, and the redheaded boy trailed fearfully behind his sisters, clutching his father’s arm.

“You’ll be alright,” Draco told him. “Everyone’s a first year once, even Lux and Cassie.”

“They weren’t nervous,” sniffed Scorpius. “They got detention on their first day.”

“Don’t be like them,” his father said wearily. “One set of twins is enough for the Headmistress to handle at any given time.”

The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Cassie’s voice drifted back to Draco over the surrounding clamor; his daughters had resumed the discussion they had started back at the Manor.

“I think Scorpius will get chewed up in Slytherin,” Cassie remarked slyly to her sister, making sure their brother could overhear.

Lux giggled, her matching blonde ponytail swinging in time with her twin sister’s. “The Sorting Hat said it took a great lot of bravery for us to break the Malfoy curse. He’s not smart enough for Ravenclaw, think he could slither his way into Hufflepuff?”

Scorpius sidled closer to his father protectively.

“Girls, enough,” Ginny said. “Leave your brother in peace for a single day.”

“I wasn’t even talking to him,” Cassie tried to look innocent. “Lux and I can’t wonder which house he’ll get sorted into?”

But the twins caught their mother’s eye and fell silent. The five Malfoys approached the barrier. With a teasing look over their shoulders at their younger brother, the twins broke into a run, their trolleys bouncing in front of them. A moment later, they had vanished.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” Scorpius asked his parents immediately, capitalizing on the momentary absence of his sisters.

“Every day, if you want us to,” said Ginny.

“Your grandmother Malfoy will even send you sweets, if you ask nicely,” Draco added.

Scorpius looked up at his father in puzzlement. “Lux and Cassie said she only sent shriveled frog legs.”

Draco chuckled. “She sent me fresh cookies every morning while I was at school. I know for a fact your grandmother won’t settle for anything less with her beloved grandchildren.”

“And don’t believe everything the twins tell you,” Ginny added, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “They’ll have you believe there’s still a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and that it eats naughty children for dinner.”

Their son looked far too relieved. “There’s not?”

Ginny laughed, leaning into Draco as he wrapped an arm around her. “Did you know I was there when Harry killed it? If you ask nicely, Professor Lupin might even take you down there on a field trip. I know he took Lux and Cassie's class last year.”

A petulant look crossed the youngest Malfoy's face, knowing his sisters had lied to him. “How do you know?”

“They wrote home quite frequently,” Draco replied, far too amused. “Although I doubt they’d let you know any of that.”

Scorpius scowled down at his trolley, the betrayal only increasing.

“Come on, honey,” Ginny said with a smile. Side-by-side they pushed his trolley forward, gathering speed as it shot toward the wall. As they reached the barrier, Scorpius winced, but no collision came. Instead, the family emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that poured from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures swarmed through the mist, into which the twins had already disappeared.

“Where are they?” asked Scorpius anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

“We’ll find them,” Ginny reassured him.

But the vapor was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody’s faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud. Draco thought he heard Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad to walk on by. All three of his children were bringing their own Firebolts in their first year. No regulation could stop him. If Harry Potter played Quidditch as a first year, then it wouldn’t stop any Malfoy. Although, he recognized in a pang of realism, if the twins hadn’t been good enough to make use of their brooms, he highly doubted poor Scorpius would. Even a proud father had to step back and realize crippling nightmares filled with Bludgers did not make for a promising Quidditch career.

“I think that’s them, Scorpius,” said Ginny suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Draco, Ginny and Scorpius had drawn right up to them.

“Hi,” said Scorpius, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose, who was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.

“Kept the twins out of trouble so far?” Fred asked Draco. A proud gleam filled their uncle’s eyes.

“Unsure,” Draco replied. The usual dread hit him, that the twins were being far too absent to be up to anything good. “No thanks to your influence, that’s for sure.”

Fred grinned broadly. “You can’t say you expected anything different. Just wait till next year, when they can visit our shop down in Hogsmeade. We’ll make sure no twins related to us are ever short on pranking materials.”

“Oh joy,” Draco replied dryly. “Every father’s dream.”

Ginny overheard him while talking to Hermione. “Draco, it’s the twins. They have a legacy to uphold!”

“Uphold it with their own children!” he growled. “If I get another detention slip in the mail today, I’m holding you personally responsible.” He pointed a stern finger at his brother-in-law.

Hermione turned to him, her face completely solemn. “We know you take your position on the Board of Governors seriously, Draco. So seriously that you’d never have sent your own children to Hogwarts with contraband brooms.”

Ginny burst into a fit of giggles, desperately hiding it behind a hand.

Draco cleared his throat, trying to retain his dignity.

“And I bet you learned your lesson with the first two,” Hermione continued, her solemn look cracking as her eyes twinkled, “and would never have sent your third child to Hogwarts with the same thing that got the first two got in trouble.”

“Ginny,” he turned to his wife. “We need to bring up that idiotic first-year-brooms rule at the next board meeting. I think it’s high time it was abolished.”

His wife bravely fought her laughter down. “Duly noted.”

Off to the side, Scorpius and Rose quietly talked amongst themselves. Rose’s younger brother, Hugo, tried to join in, but ended up mostly listening to the two older children.

The steam thinned for a moment, and Harry pushed a trolley through, his stress leaving at the sight of the familiar faces. “Worried we wouldn’t make it,” he said with a grin, turning to Ron, who’d followed him through. “But we know how that goes, don’t we?”

Hermione sighed. “Then Luna would just take them. There’s no need to be dramatic.”

A young blonde girl hung back behind Harry’s legs as their mother, Luna, brought their two older sons forward. She knelt down, staring the younger one intently in the face. “Albus Lysander, there’s no need to worry. If anyone ever makes fun of you, or you need anything at all, you can always come visit me by the Forbidden Forest. The thestrals would love to see you again, and even Buckbeak will come say hello.”

But the boy’s face wrinkled in disgust. “I can’t go running to my mom! That’s for babies!”

“Albus,” Harry said lecturingly, “What have we mentioned about going places discreetly?”

The boy’s face instantly brightened. “Oh yeah! The cloa--” He cut off, knowing better than to finish that word.

“Speaking of contraband items, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Surely such a prestigious parent as yourself wouldn’t be encouraging rule-breaking?”

Harry snorted. “That’s a laugh, with the stories Luna tells about your daughters.”

“Pick your fights, darling,” Ginny smiled at her husband. “Fred and George are still trying to get Lux and Cassie to break their detention record.”

Draco’s head shot up in horror. “They’re what?!”

Fred looked innocently off to the side, whistling to himself.

“Did you know,” Luna said distractedly, “that I noticed Castor and Pollux Malfoy in the owlery last year, trying to attach a toilet seat to their two owls? They ran off when I came over to investigate, so I never found out what for.”

Fred’s beaming smile nearly split his face. “Those little darlings. They said they tried to send George and me a present!”

Ginny sighed wearily. “No, Luna, we didn’t know.”

Ron laughed at his sister’s pain. “Now you know what our mum went through, only with four more in addition to your one Scorpius!”

“Speaking of obnoxious pains,” a witch’s voice drawled. Draco and Ginny turned. Daphne strode through the mist, Lux and Cassie levitating in front of her wand. “Do these two belong to anyone? Or should we ship them off to the Americas and be done with them?”

An identical sigh escaped both of their parents. “What have they done now?” Draco asked.

Blaise appeared from behind Daphne, dragging a smudged boy the twins’ age along with him. With his mother’s wide, dark eyes, a flawless olive complexion, and Blaise’s training, the newest Zabini had all the makings of an insufferable heartbreaker.

“They got Altais with the third dungbomb,” Blaise explained dryly.

Daphne dropped the spell, and the twins instantly scampered back into the mist, giggling all the while. Altais chased after them. “I’ll get you back!” he yelled after them through the fog.

Blaise shook his head, tsking. “Your twins have got to learn subtlety, Draco. Their mother taught them too much Gryffindor stupidity to balance out your Slytherin cunning.”

Amused, Ginny raised an eyebrow at her friend. “You do realize they’re in Gryffindor, don’t you?”

Blaise nodded with mock sympathy. “Not one, but two Gryffindor Malfoys. How it must pain you.”

Daphne smirked, hand on her cocked hip. “We can’t all have perfect Slytherin heirs, now can we?”

Instinctively, Draco turned to look at his own son. Scorpius’s red hair stuck out even from where he stood across the platform, freckles darkening as something Rose said made him blush a brilliant red. No, his precious timid boy was not cut from a Slytherin cloth, and Draco wasn’t blind enough to miss that. “Snape’ll still look out for him.” A raw edge came to his voice as he said it, and Ginny put a hand on his arm.

“As will Lupin, Luna, and Neville,” she added, smiling at her husband’s concern. “He’ll be alright.”

“More than alright,” Blaise snorted. “Those twins of yours have threatened every second-year who even thought of teasing him.”

A dangerous note entered Draco’s voice. “And who thought of teasing him? Surely he hasn’t made enemies before his first day.”

Daphne shrugged apologetically. “It may have been our Altais.”

“A harmless hazing ritual, you understand,” Blaise quickly clarified.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “If he hazes my son, I will mail the twins’ detention slips straight to you for you to sign and send back to McGonagall.”

“And I will buy them all the dungbombs they could ever want,” Draco added. “And congratulate myself on having raised such excellent Gryffindors for daughters.”

Blaise laughed. “And I will hand deliver the signed detentions to McGonagall myself.”

Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “You’re taking her up on the offer?”

He grinned proudly. “Time to do something with my retired-Auror self, and when a position with ‘Charms’ on it opened up, who was I to say no?”

Daphne giggled. “We haven’t told Altais yet. We’re waiting for his horrified expression as he walks into Flitwick’s old classroom and gets the surprise of his life.”

Ginny snickered. “Oh, that’ll be priceless. I’ll make sure the twins tell us all about it.”

Draco smiled. “Ever think about going back into the field, Daphne? Slytherin Squad’s decidedly lacking in Slytherins these days.”

She laughed easily. “You know, I just might. I need something to do with myself while Blaise is off pretending to be a teacher. Ask me again in two weeks when I’m feeling bored.”

Ginny glanced up at the clock. “It’s nearly eleven; we better make sure they’re onboard.”

Blaise snorted. “I wouldn’t bother with the twins. My bet is they’re already rigging the Prefect’s cabin with some sort of nasty surprise.”

Draco sighed, agreeing with his friend. Instead, they walked to where Scorpius waited with the Weasleys. Their son ran over to his parents, giving them each a last hug. As Draco loaded his son’s trunk onto the train, Ginny felt a small tug at her sleeve.

Curious, she bent down, looking into Scorpius’s worried face. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“What if I’m in Slytherin?”

The whisper was for his mother alone, and Ginny knew that only the moment of departure could have forced Scorpius to reveal how great and sincere that fear was.

Ginny looked at her son in puzzlement. “Your father, Blaise and Daphne, even Theo, are all Slytherins. What else is going on, Scorpius?”

He looked ashamed as he scuffed his foot at the ground. “Uncle Ron jokes about how they put up with Dad and the others. There’s something... wrong with wanting to be a Slytherin, isn’t there? With being ambitious and cunning?”

His mother looked at him with heartbreaking love, putting a hand on his thin shoulder. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Look at your Aunt Hermione. Do you think being a Gryffindor means she’s not smart?”

“No,” he instantly answered.

“Or hardworking?”

“No.”

“Or even ambitious? As the youngest Head of the DMLE in ages?”

“No,” he answered hesitantly, unsure what his mother was driving at.

“It just means that she prizes bravery higher than all the rest.” Ginny smiled. “So if you want to be in Slytherin, you go for it. And let your ambition make you the kindest, bravest, smartest Slytherin that House has ever known.”

Scorpius looked up into his mother’s face with a grin. “Thanks.”

Draco stepped off the train, wiping his hands, as his wife stood, giving her son one last hug.

“We’ll see you at Christmas!” Ginny called as Scorpius jumped onto the carriage. “Give Neville our love!”

Doors slammed all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forward for final kisses, last-minute reminders.

“Have you seen Cassie and Lux?” Draco asked Ginny. “I couldn’t spot them anywhere.”

“I know they’re independent, but this is getting ridiculous,” Ginny agreed.

Right on cue, matching blonde heads leaned out of the train. Soot stains marred their Malfoy features, but their parents wisely chose to ignore these, settling for good-bye hugs instead.

“Look out for your brother,” Draco told them seriously. “You’ve already terrified him enough to last a century.”

Each girl nodded solemnly. “We will, Father,” Cassie said.

“No matter what House he gets put into,” Lux added.

“And if Altais steps out of line…” Ginny grinned at her girls. “Well, you know what to do.”

Cassie and Lux shared a devious smile, glad to have their parents on their side.

“I’ll give you three galleons each for every week I don’t get a detention slip sent home,” Draco added.

Their faces instantly fell. “But Dad,” Cassie complained. “Pranking’s half the fun of school!”

“And not getting caught is the other half,” Draco replied.

Lux groaned. “Professor Lupin always knows how to get us! You’ve no idea how difficult he is.”

Ginny laughed. “Ask Professor Lupin about the Marauders when you get him alone. I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”

The train began to move, and Ginny and Draco walked alongside it, watching their children’s faces, already ablaze with devious new ideas. Scorpius stuck his head out at the last, excitedly joining his sisters in waving goodbye. Ginny kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching their children glide away from them.

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air as the train rounded a final corner.

“They’ll be alright,” murmured Draco. “Think Scorpius will make Hufflepuff, or will we get all Gryffindors?”

Ginny leaned against her husband, grinning a secretive smile. “I’ll wait till I read his letter. Right now, I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Her husband raised an eyebrow. “Something he said to you before getting on the train?”

She nodded. “Seems he’s been scared stiff of a certain House all this time.”

Draco frowned, not understanding.

“Slytherin, dear,” Ginny clarified with amusement. “Blame Lux and Cassie’s propaganda all you want, but my bet says you and Blaise managed to scare him off ages ago.”

He sighed in resignation. “A houseful of Gryffindor Malfoys it is, then.”

That evening, tapping at their window shot Draco and Ginny to their feet. Ginny hurried to the window, opening it for Scorpius’s distinctive eagle-owl. Draco carefully took the parchment tied to its leg, unrolling it as if it were a sacred scroll. The message was brief, and scrawled in familiar unsteady handwriting:

            Dear Mum and Dad,

I’m in Slytherin. Altais is being very nice, and it’s making me worried. I think Cassie may have threatened him. I helped a Hufflepuff find their frog, and Professor Longbottom gave me the weirdest look. I’ll be the kindest, bravest, smartest Slytherin ever. Just you wait.

            Scorpius H. Malfoy