Fanfic: Breaking the habit by C_Edevane (Free to read, 564,411Clicks)


No weakness, no mercy. Nothing could be further from Scorpius’ mind than to question this motto, the social order or even the rule of the Dark Lord himself. Until the day when a bludger throws first him and then his whole life off course.


No Archive Warnings ApplyScorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter Astoria Greengrass/Draco MalfoyScorpius Malfoy Draco Malfoy Narcissa Black Malfoy Albus Severus PotterAlternate Universe



No weakness, no mercy. Nothing could be further from Scorpius’ mind than to question this motto, the social order or even the rule of the Dark Lord himself. Until the day when a bludger throws first him and then his whole life off course.


Inspired by

Breaking the habit by Cisco.

Disclaimer: The persons, places and other proper names of all characters mentioned belong to J.K.Rowling, the creator of “Harry Potter” and co., to whom I am grateful for this wonderful world, but from whose especially transphobic, absolutely unacceptable statements and views I distance myself quite clearly.I borrow her characters for my own ideas and then return them safe and sound. No claims are made, and I make no money from the story.Spoiler: The story is remotely inspired by the book “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child”.Pairing: Albus x ScorpiusAU: The story draws an Alternate Universe as the plot of the book “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child” is used as inspiration. However, most of the story is only very loosely based on the ideas.Translation and other platforms:Translations are NOT permitted, nor is posting on other platforms. In German, my stories can be read on

Chapter 1: Part One Chapter One

Chapter Text

08 September 2021

His footsteps echoed in the corridor, were reflected and thrown back by the stone walls, so that they seemed to be much more impressive than they actually were. It did not bother him. On the contrary: people knew this sound as the message that announced his approach. It spread excitement, bustle and something like fearful respect. When his footsteps sounded, the others made sure they made room for him, did not get in his way or stand in the way of where he wanted to go. This was extremely comfortable, especially when he was running a little late, as he was today. Not that even a teacher would dare reprimand him, no, certainly not. Scorpius plain and simple preferred to always arrive on time, no matter where he was expected or where he was going.Determinedly, the youngest scion of the Malfoy family headed for the Great Hall, where his so-called classmates sat at seven long tables – one for each year. The portal was open, so he only had to step through to enter the hall. Apart from the constant clatter of cutlery, crockery and cups, which itself was subdued, the Great Hall was quiet as a mouse, as required by the school rules at dinner. No one spoke while they dined, what would be the point in it? Instead of taking a seat at the fifth table, he made his way past the others, up to the teacher’s table, where the headmaster, Professor Snape, sat in the middle, flanked by all the other professors, and dined. Only the chair to his right was empty. This was reserved for him alone, the Head Boy.Snape’s gaze lifted for a moment and looked up from the clear soup that was the choice of starter today, and a hint of disapproval at his tardiness could be read in it, but he said nothing either. Scorpius settled down in the chair to let his gaze roam over the hall of lowered heads, sitting and eating silently over their soups. He enjoyed these moments when he was enthroned above them all, literally looking down on them. The same plate of soup appeared in front of him, steaming and fresh, as it had been in front of everyone. Just as silently, he took the spoon and began to eat what, on first inspection, but after tasting it quite clearly, turned out to be plain beef broth with a handful of tiny diced vegetables and pea-sized semolina dumplings.So while he ate his appetiser, his gaze wandered again involuntarily through the high, wide room made of stone, with the deep windows and long tables. Everything was in order, clean, tidy and immaculate. As always. Candles burned under the ceiling. The ceiling reflected the sky and thus the weather outside – a night clouded only by scattered wisps of clouds. At his back, he knew without having to turn around, was the blackboard on which every single pupil was listed, each with his or her score, which he or she had collected for themselves personally. A red line was drawn on the board and every pupil who was below it at the end of the year had to answer to the school inquisitor and face severe punishment. At the very top, above the windows and clearly visible to all, was the school’s coat of arms: a shimmering silver snake on a green background.The rules were simple. Those who brought glory and honour to Hogwarts, the noble school of Slytherin, received points according to the benefit of their merit; those who failed, shamed the greatest wizard of all time and tarnished his legacy, lost points and were punished. Impeccable performance in class, homework accomplished with special diligence and extra activities were rewarded. Reporting fellow pupils for misbehaviour was also a bubbling source of points. Most coveted, however, were the extra points from Quidditch games. For this, one had to fight hard – each game anew, in order to qualify for one of the two teams, which were drawn together at random. The rivalry and competition raised the quality. The applicants tried harder, did not rest on the fact that they had made it into the team once. Scorpius, on the other hand, was naturally seeded. One of the many overly comfortable privileges that came with his position. But no one doubted his talent either. Soon it was time for another match, the first of this year and season. He would compete as a chaser since he had grown out of the position of the seeker. Anticipation sprouted in him and he emptied the soup plate, which disappeared and was immediately replaced by another plate.He barely prevented a groan from escaping. The meal was hardly surpassable in its dreariness. Surely the house elves had racked their brains to serve up the most boring thing they could think of: porridge – or should he say slime? – cabbage turnip and chicken that was boiled rather than fried. No salt. No spices. As usual. Supposedly this was to teach the children proper modesty and reverence for wealth, but grandfather had said that Britain was simply under an embargo. Scorpius didn’t understand – of course he knew what an embargo was, but why no spices were being delivered, or varied foodstuffs, was a mystery to him. Everyone wanted to trade with Britain, after all, it was the Promised Land! The only one where freedom for magic reigned, witches and wizards were no longer subjugated by muggles and mudbloods, blood traitors and half-creatures. The Dark Lord was their liberator from bondage, their eternal advocate and guardian of peace. Anyone who wanted to enter England had to cross the magical border on the coasts: a necessary protection to keep out the enemies of pure blood. Scorpius raised his head again, tilted it and narrowed his eyes as he appraised the others. Was one of them a traitor?

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