I wished that my family would not be so hectic right now, and my younger cousin and brother would not be scared. They seemed to be afraid of the other students, although it seemed immature for their ages of fifteen. They stayed close to each other and their large circle of friends, who all seemed to be from Gryffindor. It made me worry, and for once in my life, I really was scared of the future and how this would all turn out.

In Divination, we were assigned a dream journal. We were not required to write in it every night, because some people didn’t dream every night, but I usually did. It was interesting to write down what happened in a dream, because when I remembered what had happened, it was like I was reliving it. It was as if I was living a fantasy. I was doing everything that I couldn’t do in real life. I could fly without a broomstick, or turn invisible without an invisibility cloak.

“Scorpius!” I yelled, dragging it out to make it more syllables than it really was. I watched as the double doors of the library swung shut behind him, and I felt anger swell up inside of me. How dare he walk away from me? How dare he just leave me when I could have given him some sort of proof that my dream was false? He was being arrogant—a trait which I knew he had inherited from his father. This was the reason I doubted why I was friends with him. He was too haughty for his own good.

When I was younger, say seven or eight, I believed that the princesses from Muggle fairytales actually existed. I believed that there was a Cinderella somewhere who had gone from a maid to a princess overnight. I believed that because I could do magic, I was going to end up being a fairy Godmother someday and granted some random girl’s wishes.

I wanted to be one of those princesses, not the fairy Godmother.

I ripped the energy bar’s wrapping off and looked at it. It looked like a normal energy bar. And when I bit into it, it tasted like a regular energy bad. Maybe Uncle George was being spontaneous and decided to send me an energy bar—maybe it wasn’t from his shop, after all.

Except for the fact that it seemed to work almost immediately. I suddenly felt perkier (a lot perkier, actually)—and a lot less tired. It was an amazing feeling; I was going to have to order some more of those things from the shop (and probably make Uncle George die of shock).

“My family and friends or your friends first?” I asked Scorpius in a whisper (although it seemed to echo throughout the room like a scream), trying to move my lips as little as possible. I glanced over at my family, all of whom carried mixed expressions. Lily looked absolutely ecstatic—it probably took everything in her power to keep her from jumping out of her seat. Hugo looked like he could care less, although that was usually what he looked like, anyway. And Albus… oh, dear Albus… his eyes were narrowed, and he looked angry.

“Rose, are you okay?” someone said. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and someone began to shake me very gently. I closed my eyes tighter and tried to ignore whoever was shaking me, but this only made them shake me harder. I let my entire body relax, hoping that the dead weight would make them leave. It didn’t. “Rose, wake up!”

I looked at Albus, narrowing my eyes, but the smile remained plastered on his face. Perhaps he had already had too much candy. “I have a hypothetical question for you,” I said, instead of giving him the real story. “What would be the first thought going through your head if you found out that your boyfriend—or, I guess, girlfriend, in your case—was sneaking out in the middle of the night and wouldn’t tell you why when you asked where he was going? What would you think she was doing?”

Scorpius had been completely serious when he suggested to go with Albus’ plan to “forgive and forget”. Not only did we forgive each other (him for being devious, me for being downright stupid and not trusting him), but we also forgot. At least, Scorpius did. He would not touch me or come within spitting distance of me. Instead, he stayed away, watching me only from the corner of his eye, sure not to make eye contact for more than a second at a time.

"Why have you stopped believing me?”

The cloaked man unfolded his arms and moved his hands to his pockets. “Your son…” There was a smile beneath the hood.

This conversation seemed far too familiar to Malfoy, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Right.” He ran his hand through his hair. That seemed familiar, too. “Scorpius.”

Something wasn’t right here.