The American

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Chapter Three: The American

POV:  Albus

As hard as it was to believe this, when it came to Rose and me, I hardly ever had the upper-hand. She was the smarter one, the nicer one, the politer one, the right one—I never had a shot to gloat about anything. Now I did. She had been going on and on about not tainting the memory of our first day as First Years with gloom (or she was going to throw me out of the window of the Hogwarts Express, or hex me as soon as we were on the grounds of Hogwarts where our magic was legal to use), but there she was, all pouty and with arms crossed firmly over her chest. 

It was rather awkward, really. A ghastly silence had fallen over us since we climbed onto the boat, then followed us off that bloody boat, as we traveled past the grounds of the castle (I couldn't even properly enjoy the Whomping Willow Tree from the distance, not even one single story Uncle Ron had told me about it had surfaced), as we walked on the historic bridge Neville had blown up then repaired, and through the massive front doors of the castle. 

Could it all be because Malfoy had joined us? I mean, blimey. Rose was not a prejudiced person at all, nor was she a believer of grudges and bad blood that was not hers, so why was she acting like this? If I did not have a problem with the guy, neither should she.

Perhaps it was not that she had a problem with him, exactly, but more that she did not know him. She liked to believe she was not shy, but she sometimes was when she was out of her element (which, granted, did not happen often). 

"So," I cleared my throat, deciding to end this awkwardness between us all and get to know each other a little bit more (at least until we were sorting and never had to interact again, if it came down to that), "you have any other relatives attending, Malfoy?"

"Dad's the only child and so am I," he said warily, like he was waiting for a bad reaction (Nia did roll her eyes, but he had not seen her). Poor lad. "But Mum has several siblings. A lot of my Greengrass cousins are here."

"Two are demons," Liam muttered, earning him a quick pat on the back from Scorpius. 

"They're not going to give you any trouble," he assured Liam.

Nia stopped on her tracks, turning around to face the two. "Yeah, they won't," she said, "because I'll be there to kick their arses. No need to worry about that, Malfoy. Not like you ever have."

"For Merlin's bloody sake, Harper," Scorpius hissed, "not everything requires your attention."

"It doesn't," she flashed him a lethal grin, "but seeing as Malfoys aren't exactly known to stick beside someone during a fight, I don't want Liam to think he's alone."

A group passing us looked behind them, eyeing Scorpius before muttering to themselves. He caught this, which explained the angry red tint on his pale face. "And Harpers are?" he bit out. "Last I remember, the history books don't have your family as heroes, either. Don't you all just go into hiding and come out when the trouble is done?"

Nia's grin disappeared. "Fight me, Malfoy," she hissed as she took a step closer, "then we'll see who comes out the victor."

"I don't hit girls."

"Funny," Nia said, "because I don't have a problem with it."

She then shoved Malfoy with more strength she looked to have. He was caught off guard—seeing as Liam had once again moved to hold her back— he stumbled back, crashing into someone and bringing them down with him. 

If I'd been Nia, I'm pretty sure I would have had a wicked smile to show just how satisfied I was, but there was nothing of the sort on her beautiful face. Instead, her blue eyes were wide and her pink lips were saying an apology as she bent down. She shoved Scorpius aside, but offered a hand to the dark-haired girl who had been a helpless victim in the Harper vs. Malfoy argument. 

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