Title: Must Be Genetic

Disclaimer: As of today, I am not a billionaire. This cuts me out of the running for 'people who might own Harry Potter.'

Author's Note: I don't even know what to make of this, or if it's even any good. Writing dark, sad things that make people cry--I trust my talent in that. This, I'm completely in the dark. BUT IT'S HAPPY...

OR AT LEAST NOT SAD. Should work until I can finish the current fluffy bits I'm working on.

The rather unfortunately named Scorpius Malfoy had the good sense to steer clear of anyone named 'Potter' or 'Weasley', but that was where his sensibilities ended.

He lounged in the doorway of a nearly empty compartment, a smirk on his face as he regarded its occupant. "Aw, look at him cry for his muggle mummy. Never been away from her, and now he's off to the big scary school, poor thing." It was odd, he spoke as though he had a comrade to hear him, but he stood alone, mocking the curly-haired boy who was curled in a seat clutching to a muggle photograph.

Al and Rose started as they began to shove belongings into the compartment next door, dropping their things to turn back to the bully. Before either of them could open their mouths, another voice rang from the corridor behind Malfoy.

"D'you have a problem with muggles?" a sharp voice inquired rather crisply. Al looked around to see a tall, coltish looking girl dressed in muggle clothing glaring daggers at the boy, setting down the over-large Burberry-plaid bag she'd been struggling with. Or at least she seemed to be glaring daggers—her long, thick blonde fringe fell over large, dark sunglasses with 'Prada' written ostentatiously over the sides. They overwhelmed her face in such a ridiculous way that they must have been terribly fashionable, and the effect rather dimmed the intensity of her stare.

Scorpius had the sense to recognize a poor idea, but arrogance enough to quash such sensibilities. "Not at all. It's only when we get these muggle pretenders thinking they can do magic…that's when we have a problem."

Albus started in now, angrily. "Hey!" He didn't have a chance for anything more, because the girl had seized the front of Malfoy's robes and shoved him through the door, into the compartment and then flush up against the window. Her skinny arms were obviously much stronger than they initially appeared, the horsy, adolescently-overlong bones layered over with lean muscle.

"Now," the girl said rather conversationally. "The nice thing about being muggleborn is that I don't need magic to kick your arse. My dad's a boxer, and he's showed me all sorts of ways to deal with bullies, and they're not very nice ways because there's nothing he hates more than a bully. I would love nothing more than to demonstrate, but I should hope that it won't be necessary."

She smiled at him benignly from where she towered at least four inches over his head as she released her hold on him. "You can go now."

And he did. With a shifty backwards glance at the girl, who had one dark-blonde eyebrow cocked at him expectantly over the black plastic of her frames, he slunk through the doorway.

Rose and Al peeked into the compartment, where the girl was comforting the still teary-eyed boy, her sunglasses now shoved up on her head. "Don't let the little prat get to you. I miss my mum, too," she told him in a very matter-of-fact tone. "He really might want to look into getting some minions or cronies of some sort. That kind of villainous monologuing is really ineffective when you're standing by yourself," she said dryly, eliciting a laugh from Malfoy's would-be victim.

Albus was impressed. "Brilliant work," he said by way of a greeting, stepping into the compartment. "Malfoys are always gits, apparently."

The girl turned and smiled, her overlong fringe hanging in her eyes in a way that looked too polished to be accidental. "Must be genetic."

"I'm Albus Severus Potter, nice to meet you…both of you," he added, smiling at the boy already seated.

"I'm his cousin, Rose Weasley," Rose said prettily, waving at the two of them.

"John Towler!" piped up the boy in the corner, looking delighted. It wasn't every day, of course, that the kids of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, Wizarding Heroes, walked into your compartment and introduced themselves. His savior, however, was not impressed. Muggleborns tended not to be, of course, and this girl screamed 'Muggleborn'. She also screamed 'spoilt', with her expensive things, the way in which she carried herself as though she were something, and the imperious turn in her voice, but all three of her new companions seemed willing to forgive that in light of her actions.

"Albus Severus," she mused, looking over him, skinny finger tocked against her chin. "Funny name."

"Is not. I was named after very brave men!" Albus was already flaring red, all charitable thought towards this girl dissipating.

"Hey, my name's funny," she said calmly, tossing her hair. "I wasn't ripping you for it; I just like funny names. And I was named after people too...well, named to honor them, anyway, not really after them. And it's nice to meet you all," she said. "I'm October…well, Toby," she added as an afterthought. It seemed as though she was rather proud of her name, only hesitantly providing an acceptable nickname for them to use. "You two should come on in and join John and I. Should prove quite the party."

The blonde fell back into the seat opposite John, her designer rucksack tossed carelessly to the floor. She shook her hair out of her eyes at last, and Albus was momentarily stunned. He didn't know how she looked so familiar until she smiled at him, a rather charming smile that no doubt got her everything she'd ever asked for.

He was looking at an over-tall, sharper-boned, blonde-haired version of the eleven-year-old Lily Evans he had seen in his father's cherished photographs. He was looking at his own eyes, his father's eyes. He was looking at Lily Potter's eyes, set in a face more like hers than even her grandchildren could boast of.

"After all," she concluded, pushing her black sunglasses back down onto her nose and fluffing her fringe over them, "Anywhere Toby Dursley goes proves quite the party."