Friends? : Scorpius Malfoy X Reader

Friends? : Scorpius Malfoy x Reader

Request : Could you do a Scorpius x slytherin! American ilvermorny (originally a thunderbird) transfer student or foreign exchange student. Maybe where she’s really introverted or doesn’t feel like she belongs and he tries to befriend her or something like that. Sorry this isn’t very specific. Also I love your blog! Thank you

A/N : Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took so long! 

Requests are open! Reblogging is always appreciated! Thank you for reading!

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“Hi!  I’m Scorpius!”

You look up in surprise, meeting the enthusiastic expression of the boy you had come to realize was Scorpius Malfoy, once-rumored heir of Voldemort.  

You shake your head, averting your gaze and pulling your robes closer to your body.  You needed friends, you were lonely.  But not like this. 

You missed your old friends, the old smiles, the old memories.  Being in America was home - it was routine.  You knew what to say, who to befriend, who to like.  There were no variables.  

Here, in Scotland, everything was so different.  People spoke with accents, accents that blurred together in your ears, talked with wizarding slang you couldn’t comprehend.  Europe was a whole different culture than America.

Back home, it was Grindelwald who was frowned upon and Wampus that was the house children whispered about in the corridors.  Here it was Voldemort, and Slytherin, your house, was the whispered house.  The house with stigma - the snake.

You turn your gaze back up to Scorpius, your heart tweaking slightly at the crest-fallen expression that melts the smile off his face.  You watch as he shrugs, then smiles once again.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, have a good morning!”  His eyes widen and they roll to the back of his head.  “Good afternoon, I meant!” He stammers and smiles sheepishly, running out of the classroom and out of sight. 

Gathering your books, you stand up, walking out after him.  You hang your head as you walk - you should have said hello to him.  This was probably the last chance at making friends - people already ignored you because of your house.  And besides, the fact that you were American and from Ilvermorny of all schools, created a barrier between you and the other students. 

Surprisingly, Scorpius came to see you the next day, and the next.  All with the same enthusiastic smile, the same cheesy lines and awkward mistakes. 

You began to warm up to him, slowly not beginning to care about the rumors that hung around his head. 

“I’m (Y/N),” you finally say, a soft smile encasing your lips.  

Scorpius’s face lights up, his eyes widening and an even larger smile tugging at his mouth.  “I’m Scorpius!” He says again.  He stretches out his hand, then takes it back.  “Do we hug?”

You take a step back, your own eyes wide.  “What?” Your voice is a mere squeak, you begin to regret your act on friendship.

He throws out his hands.  “Sorry! So sorry - that was strange.”  He smiles again.  “Can we try again?”  He rummages in his pockets for something, pulling out a shimmering blue hexagonal box.  “Here,” he thrusts it towards you, motioning for you to take it.  “It’s a chocolate frog, they’re really good, see?”  He points to the box again, “they’ve got collectable cards with all the famous witches and wizards, I’ll take yours if you don’t want them.”

You take the box, smiling hesitantly.  “Thank you.”

Scorpius nods, bouncing on his heels.  “My mom always said sweets help you make friends!”  He pauses, as if realizing his mistake.  “Probably silly,” he falters off.

You shake your head, stretching out your own hand.  “Friends.”

The look that flashes upon his face is full of such surprise and such overwhelming happiness, that you suddenly feel the need to protect the blond boy.  “Friends!” He shakes your hand fiercely.  His eyes soften kindly and he looks at you with a smile.  “So where are you from?”

Your own eyes light up at the question, you cannot help the wondrous gasp you make as you think of home.  “Ilvermorny.”

Scorpius’s jaw drops.  “Ilvermorny?”  He tugs on your sleeve, excitedly.  “You’ve got to tell me all about it - what are you?”  He counts on his fingers, “Horned Serpent, Pukwudgie, Wampus, and -“

“Thunderbird,” you say, “I’m Thunderbird.”

Scorpius is overcome with amazement, he walks quicker to the library with you in tow.  “Come on - you have to tell me all about America.”  He smiles back at you.  “Is it true you have a groundhog that determines whether it’s winter or spring?”

You laugh, a sound that seems almost natural.  Perhaps this Hogwarts thing wouldn’t be so bad.