A new idea took my fancy. Disclaimer: JKR owns all. I'm just flouncing around amongst it.
Edited, December 2017.


She ran a hand over her plait in an attempt to contain the unruly strands that had begun to come loose during the day. It was a nervous tick almost, playing with her hair. She blinked at her reflection in the bronze framed mirror, noting it's superior sheen compared to those in the girl's bathrooms on the other floors of the castle. If she hadn't spent hours of time scrutinising her appearance over the past few teenage years, picking out features that were inherited and those that weren't ideal, she wouldn't have recognised herself. The only trace of insecurity was in her hazel eyes, which were lined with kohl for the occasion. She pulled out a lipstick from her robes and ran it across her bottom lip, then the top. Pursing them together in a small pout.

She cringed, her reflection mimicking the expression.

No. She thought to herself, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand roughly. The lipstick is far too much.

It occurred to her then that perhaps she was setting herself up for a fall here. What if Jasmine had been wrong? That would truly be the most mortifying thing of all. Rejection. But she'd come this far. She'd even shortened her skirt two inches; enough to show more leg than usual while keeping close enough to her own standards that it was acceptable. She glanced back at herself in the mirror, pulling her mouth to one side, uncertain.

If the past week had been anything to go by, he'd probably just ask her to leave politely and go about his business for the evening.

That business. She thought bitterly. She was definitely skating the edges of moral ambiguity if she went along with this. After the fuss she had kicked up at him last week, she was possibly now the Queen of Hypocrisy. She tried to smile at her reflection, first one side of her mouth, then the other until a nervous, toothy grin looked back at her.

"You can do this, Weasley," she whispered to herself encouragingly. The flash of torch light lit the crest emblazoned on her robes. Before she could even think twice, she was unpinning it and placing it in the small bowl by the sink. That badge certainly didn't deserve to bear witness to what she was about to do. If it did, she'd have a hard time convincing herself that she shouldn't just rip it off her chest for good and return it to the Headmistress forthwith.

Instead she gave herself a final once over, straightening her neck tie before removing it and shoving it into the pocket of her robes. She turned on her heal, stalked through the common room she shared with the Head Boy who glanced up from his magazine.

"Where are you going, Rose? It's almost curfew!"

"Out." She replied not looking back as the portrait swung shut behind her, the Head Boy's reply swamped by the blood rushing in her ears as she set off down to the dungeons.


Seven Days Earlier…

"So I told Patrick that we needn't have bothered training so hard because the Gryffindor team just isn't the same without James," spoke the boy, an air of arrogance about him. Rose hadn't really been paying much attention to his usual ramblings about Quidditch, instead her attention focused on inspecting an unusual blue stain on her robe sleeve. A hand waved in front of her face, regaining her attention.

"Earth to Rose," said the boy, who wore a rather serious expression as he halted in the middle of the corridor. She reluctantly followed suit. She hadn't been in the mood for Quidditch talk tonight. At the sight of a raised eyebrow she immediately regretted not listening for she was now no doubt in for a telling off. She decided to improvise.

"I do agree that the absence of James has left the Gryffindor team quite stunted in skill, but they certainly won't let such a defeat happen again," she stated rationally, hoping this would be a sufficient contribution to the conversation. Gratefully, his face relaxed and he strode on down the corridor as if they hadn't stopped at all.

"I'd bet a galleon that they'll not be able to recover from it. Your brother certainly didn't look happy."

Rose made a noise of agreement, unable to stop herself rolling her eyes; thankfully the boy ahead of her didn't notice. This went on for the duration of their patrol. The Head Boy, Elliot Rhodes talking mostly nonsense about the aptitude of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Rose didn't have the strength to argue.

In her defence, it had been a rather long day. She would have preferred to have discussed with him their Herbology assignment; The benefits of climate for the growth of mandrakes. Instead she tugged on a lock of hair that was an inch shorter than the rest. Someone had thought it amusing to levitate a pair of secateurs dangerously close to her head during their Herbology class at the end of the day. Her suspicions would suggest it was probably Albus, or his usual accomplice Malfoy.

When they made it to the ground floor, Elliot angled himself towards the Hufflepuff dorms, a look of apprehension on his face.

"If you wish to speak to Patrick tonight, go ahead."

"Rose…" she sensed in his tone he was about to attempt chivalry and insist they must finish patrols together. She removed her wand from her sleeve instead, ignoring his subtle implication that she might not be able to handle a simple patrol by herself.

"Are you sure, Rosie?" Rose fought not to openly cringe as he put his arm around her shoulders.

"I'll be fine Elliot, honestly," she replied, unable to keep the bite out of her voice.

"Should I wait up for you?" he asked, expectantly. The corridor was dimly lit and the flush that coaxed her cheeks went unnoticed. Or at least she hoped it did. With wide eyes and lips drawn in a thin line she said, "perhaps not tonight Elliot."

He did nothing to hide his crestfallen expression. Perhaps I should be flattered.

"Ok. I'll see you in the morning then," he stated. As he shuffled away she let out a sigh, relief relaxing her muscles.

Maybe she was being unfair on the boy. At one point in time he'd merely been a handsome Hufflepuff who she barely knew. Barely interacted with at all during her day to day castle life. Thankfully he wasn't pushy. He seemed as content as she was about their casual (if rather infrequent) sexual tousles. Mostly after she'd had a terrible day. Deep down she believed he was too naïve to think any worse of her. She certainly didn't feel any strong want over the boy accept after a particularly trying day and she needed an effective release.

She'd never lead him on, she reasoned. No love notes, no bringing him dessert late at night up to the common room if he'd been studying and forgotten about dinner. Nothing that suggested they were more than indulging their teenage hormones in each other. She'd become rather indifferent towards the situation rather rapidly; she just hadn't had the courage to end it. He probably deserved better.

All this being said, it seemed like a fairly amicable agreement to her. Although the initiation of said arrangement had not been her finest hour. He'd just been there as a physical outlet when she'd needed one.

As so many adolescent wizard trysts go, it had been initiated by the consumption of copious amounts of fire whiskey. This was a situation that had been poorly aided by her friend Jasmine. A girl who could out drink and outwit most of the blokes at parties, and at the end of it all still possess the essential function required to hold back her friend's hair.

Ravenclaw had never been beaten so badly. Not that she could remember. To top it off, having a Slytherin for a cousin who enjoys goading family members into placing ridiculous bets, that more often than not do more to ones pride than anything else was enough to throw Rose into Elliot's arms. In Rose's opinion.

She hadn't counted on him becoming Head Boy. It had made the first few months rather awkward. Him with expectant eyes and her attempts to be distant to put him off falling flat. She had conceded at the beginning of November. Almost like a comforting blanket that she went back to.

Perhaps she should feel something for him by now. After all they'd been shacked up together for a few months now. However irregular and unpredictable their encounters under each other's sheets were.

Her friend Jasmine had admitted that Rose's scorn might be enough to put men off normally, and that perhaps she should be grateful for the attention she received from Elliot, no matter how unenthused she felt. Yet there was no passion. No sparks. He never made her toes curl.

Rose hadn't really been paying attention to where she was going. Whenever left alone to her own thoughts, she often let her feet guide her across the stone floor. She wasn't sure she'd even seen this deep under the castle before. A more skittish type might have felt a little uneasy as the faint sound of whistling drifted down the corridor. Curiosity getting the better of her, she strained her ears to get a feel for the direction it was coming from – having come to a crossroads of passages – taking her immediate right she continued further into the underbelly of the castle.

She was definitely getting closer. If the sound hadn't been so tuneful, she would have given up the investigation for fear of being dive bombed by Peeves.

The turn of another sharp corner caused her to halt immediately. Struck dumb almost by the sight before her. A torch at the end of the corridor, missing it's familiar ghoulish-green glow was flickering ruby. The whistling now started to sound like an actual song. Something she recognised from Victoire's record collection.

Hemming, the current potion masters quarters was hundreds of metres of twisting tunnels away. Her curiosity peaked by the question of what exactly someone was doing down here, this deep in the castle. Creeping towards the door beneath the torch, the sounds of a crooning male voice alongside the quiet crackling melody from a record player grabbed Rose's full attention. It wasn't a terrible pitch. She just had a suspicion of whose singing it might be, the song now more revealing.

With the wood ajar slightly, a shiny pair of brogues could be seen propped up on the desk. The occupier of the room, quite clearly at ease. Perhaps whistling wasn't the best idea, if you didn't want to be found.

There was only one individual who's shoes were that shiny in the whole castle. A feature of his appearance that had always irked Rose for an indistinguishable reason. He always looked so well put together. No matter what mischief he'd been up to with her cousin. No matter how many trophies he'd had to kneel down to polish. Those shoes always remained as spotless as hers did, and she'd never once had to kneel down to polish trophies for detention.

That was enough reason to make her feel uneasy about being in the same room as Scorpius Malfoy. Or at least that's what she told herself.

"I can hear you breathing," his voice floated out into the corridor. His shoes remained propped up on the desk in her line of sight. "If you actually want to speak to me Liz, you actually have to come in the room. My services don't stretch further than these four walls." Services?! Rose bit down on her tongue to stop herself from tutting.

As Head Girl you're supposed to be composed. She hastily reminded herself. His voice had caused her stomach to tighten uncomfortably. Rose considered for a moment the element of power she had to offer out detentions for such weird behaviour. Hiding out in the depths of the castle past curfew was certainly one of them. No matter how tuneful your singing was.

She reached out and pushed the door open. The sight of the room as a whole took her by surprise. What she could only assume was once a slightly larger than normal broom cupboard had been converted into a rather pitiful looking office.

With barely enough room to fit down either side of the desk, it sat half-leaning in the centre of the room with quills and parchment strewn about its surface (some sat underneath Malfoy's footwear). The only other piece of furniture crammed into the room was a cabinet against the back wall with a glass front and an open bottom. The record spinning lazily on it's needle. Rose observed two bottles of fire whiskey and half a dozen glasses within the cabinet. It made her stomach clench even more.

As she took a step into the room, Malfoy chuckled, turning a page of what looked surprisingly like the Quibbler.

"Liz are you feeling alright? Not like you to be this…mute." He turned another page and shifted the placement of his legs, drawing her focus to them. It was this movement that horrified her. Beneath those jet black shoes sat the map. Not just any map. The map.

"Why the hell did Albus give that to you?" Rose demanded, pointing with her wand to where the map sat, looking much more worn than the last time she'd seen it.

Malfoy almost dropped his magazine in shock. His glasses falling off the top of his head onto the end of his nose. Swinging his legs off the desk he began hastily shuffling the map together.

"Red, you sure know how to sneak up on a bloke," he continued to search the desk hurriedly. Rose realised a little too late what he was up to as he tapped the map with his wand and the ink seemed to be absorbed back into the parchment. Annoyed, she summoned his wand instead and he scrambled to grab it before it soared into her outstretched hand. She somehow resisted the urge to look smug.

He shook his head for a moment, brushing invisible lint from his jumper before reseating himself behind the desk.

"C'mon, Red. Bit unfair to interrogate a bloke who can't defend himself," he pouted; a fail safe way to do nothing to improve her mood.

"That, is precisely what I meant to do. You're not escaping-,"

"Kinky."

"Eugh." Rose blanched, "you're not leaving here until you explain what you're doing down here after hours!"

He blinked, his lips quirked and his face remained like that. Eyes trained on her. And he just stared. She felt a slow heat creep up her collar, aware that his staring was making her blush. That's just what he likes to do; make me feel uncomfortable. Malfoy appeared to notice her unease, it only caused his smirk to grow. She stared back, trying to communicate with merely brainwaves that he should stop being so impolite and answer her questions. No boy should look at her like that. Unabashed with a hint of amused scrutiny.

It was times like this that Rose was reminded of why she avoided Scorpius Malfoy.

Realistically she could have filled a roll of parchment (or several) of reasons, but there were three key things. Three terrible things that made her want to avoid him as much as possible.

Firstly, Scorpius Malfoy was handsome. It wasn't this fact in itself that annoyed her per say, it was the fall out that came with it. Girls following him around the bookshelves in the library giggling and screeching if he so much as gestured their way. Luckily for him, he hadn't inherited his father's hair, instead dulled to musty blonde. Teddy had always described it as "surfer-dude" hair, whatever that was supposed to mean. Although from browsing Lily's trashy fiction from time to time she could probably make an educated guess. His face however, in juxtaposition to his fly-away hair was every bit of chiselled Malfoy ancestry you could imagine. High cheekbones, sharp chin, expressive brow and porcelain complexion. The only other un-Malfoy like thing about Scorpius' appearance was probably his horn-rimmed spectacles. The teenage girls certainly had a lot to say about those. Rose tried very hard not to get involved in conversations about such nonsense.

Scorpius Malfoy was objectively handsome. Due to this realisation, she'd been forced to avoid him best she could for fear that the babbling that followed him would somehow lower her IQ and she wouldn't have been able to finish any assignment ever again.

The second terrible thing, was that Scorpius Malfoy had befriended her cousin. Not just any cousin. Her favourite and closest cousin. From a logical point of view, Rose could understand their friendship. Albus, a Potter, the first of his lineage to be sorted into the House of Slytherin feeling tremendously alone. And Malfoy, the boy who had he been born under a different name would surely have lived a different life. In the dark shadow cast by the history and reputation of his family, it explained quite a lot about how he had done a lot in his power to show he was nothing like the rest of them.

So Albus and Scorpius, two boys out to prove themselves, found in each other a penchant for mischief. Had Scorpius not spent the majority of their younger years teasing her during classes, Rose might also have seen reason not to avoid him; perhaps even befriend him.

Thirdly, the one thing that really upset Rose about Scorpius Malfoy was his natural ability. At everything. From Quidditch to cake baking (she'd witnessed this with her own eyes). The crux of her annoyance coming from his lay about attitude. The fact of the matter being, that if Scorpius tried, even a little, he'd excel past most of his classmates. Instead he'd rather be seen as a truant or a scoundrel. That, to Rose was the worst thing about him. His wasted potential.

Rose had begun tapping her foot on the flagging. Her patience wearing thin as he continued to stare, barely blinking up at her from his seat. It was a little unnerving to say the least, and he didn't even have his wand.

"Red, perhaps you could tell me how your day was?" The smile he threw her so effortlessly seemed the most genuine thing he'd done all night. It made something in her belly stir. Oh don't fall for that. Rose started, taken aback by his question and her own body's reaction to it.

"What?"

"How was your day?" He repeated, a feigned innocence poorly hidden the second time round.

Frustrated, she crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows knotting together, "That's not relevant, Malfoy. Just answer my question. What are you doing here with Al's map? In this bizarre make shift office."

He gestured casually with one arm, "this is merely my workspace."

"I don't see any homework," she snapped, her temper rising no matter how hard she tried to keep her voice steady. He was positively infuriating.

"Fine. It's just my business workspace," he shrugged, his eyes returning to rove across her face, just as unabashed as before. Anyone else might have understood the severity of how the Head Girl was looking at him. Not Scorpius Malfoy. Unfortunately, Malfoy was about the only person who just would not do as Rose asked, however politely. If she hadn't picked up on it already, he quite enjoyed playing the part of her antagonist.

Withholding information was a dangerous game to play with Rose Weasley. Malfoy was treading a very thin line. She felt herself beginning to shake with repressed anger, which was only fuelled with every facetious remark. When the sound of her teeth grinding together reached his ears, he seemed to actually take heed of just how close he was to being cursed into oblivion.

"In all honesty Red," he said resignedly, "you wouldn't like it if I told you. Is there any chance in hell that you could pretend you didn't find me. I don't want to upset you."

"Why the f- hell would it upset me?" she growled through clenched teeth.

"We both know you're not an idiot," her voice like acid on her tongue, "so don't act like one. I'm not leaving here without an explanation. The more you hold out on me, the falser and probably exaggerated conclusions I'll draw."

She opened her mouth to continue berating him but paused; the sound of quick footsteps approaching the room silencing her next words. The person -whoever it was- sounded hurried and for the first time since she arrived, Malfoy looked unsettled. His eyes having grown behind the glass in his spectacles, his mouth slightly agape. He made a move as if to stand but she'd already shook her head in warning. Taking a step back from the desk, her back fit flush to the wall just as the door swung open blocking her view of the room.

The sound of muffled metal on metal hit the desk.

"Malfoy," a male voice she couldn't place spoke out of breath. "I need the broom cupboard in the West Wing. Tonight."

There was a pause. "Sorry Chambers. I can't help tonight, you'll have to come back at a more convenient time or perhaps even tomorrow night." Rose found herself listening intently as Scorpius' tone took on an urgency she barely recognised.

"I brought payment," said Chambers, quite apparently irritated. "I could ask her sister-"

"That won't be necessary," came Scorpius' cold reply.

Rose's mind was racing; calculating and questioning. Pulling all the unknowns together, attempting to draw feasible conclusions that might fit with what Chambers had unwittingly just given away. Her heart sank with overwhelming disappointment. The pieces fitting together. How could they do something like this?

"Malfoy!" The boy's voice rose, "I pay you, a lot of people do for this service." Another piece to the messed-up puzzle. "What's the problem? We had no warning!"

"I didn't get a chance," Malfoy replied feebly. "Besides it's already booked."

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet in that moment. Rose sensed danger at the ruffle of robes as if someone was drawing a wand. She felt a fearful stab to her chest at the thought of Scorpius without his wand, defenceless.

"That's my area. My privilege," Chambers' voice was perilously low. "How dare you-"

Aware that with merely a flick of a wand, Scorpius could be in severe trouble, on instinct Rose thrust the door closed. Blood pounding in her ears as her cloak swept around her like a whirlwind, stepping between the two boys and thrusting her wand unnecessarily close to Chambers' neck. Trapping him between her raised wand and the closed door.

"Oh, I didn't realise you had company." Chambers said coolly, his eyes focusing on the Head Girl badge on her chest for a moment before looking over her shoulder at Malfoy as if she weren't standing there at all.

She felt an intense dislike for Chambers in that moment. His eyes glinted with nothing but malice. Admittedly her and Malfoy rarely saw eye to eye, but unlike Malfoy's general good nature, Chambers gave off an air of cruelty and arrogance that was putting her on edge.

"Do as he instructed Chambers." She took in a fraction of breath as her voice came out much louder than she'd intended. It sounded as if she was trying to make a conscious effort to appear more confident than she felt. "I'd stress that whatever trouble Malfoy is already in, I doubt you would want to be an accessory to it." His eyes finally flickered to her, his expression disinterested. Again his gaze focused on the sapphire badge and a sneer ghosted his face.

"I thought you only put out for Rhodes, Weasley. Interesting."

Her teeth bit down on her tongue. Hard.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," her voice cracked as her tongue throbbed painfully. "As to your insinuation that something is going on here," with the flick of a wand as she somehow managed to compose herself, she silently summoned the wand in Chambers grip, the sneer evapourating instantly, "if you'd rather I summoned Professor McGonagall then please take a seat." The last ounces of energy went into her last murmured sentence, venomous as her eyes shrunk to slits. Her heart threatening to burst between her ribs, from rage or distress she couldn't have been sure. She just knew she needed to get Chambers out of the room.

Rose's gaze followed his as it flickered to Malfoy, the latter still looking wary, perhaps less so now Chambers was unarmed.

With the last remaining ounce of patience left, she snarled, "Leave." Pushing his own wand into his chest, he backed out the door, which as some point had opened (although she would never recall having even thought the spell). With one last glare at Malfoy he grabbed his wand roughly, wrenching the door closed behind him. His footsteps echoing less and less in his retreat.

For a moment, they both stood in silence. Rose's breath raged, she tried to take deep calming breaths while Malfoy made no sound at all.

She put a hand to her own chest, her heart skittering wildly.

"Weasley, let me explain," Scorpius spoke quietly and almost tentatively.

She turned to him, eyes ablaze. "So that's what this is?" she cried, "you're abusing the map to rent out broom cupboards?" Scorpius it would seem, finally realised he was beat. Falling back into his seat, his shoulders collapsing he removed his glasses and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

"The least you could do is look a little bit ashamed Malfoy!" It was Rose's turn to stare, and she found herself even more upset that now he'd been caught out he didn't dare look at her. In her displeasure she failed to notice his minute flinch as she growled out his surname.

"Do you honestly have nothing to say for yourself?" She demanded, bringing her hands down hard on the desk in front of him in an attempt to make him look up at her. It worked. His gaze was no longer confident as he raised his head, instead it was hesitant when meeting her eyes. He adjusted his glasses so they sat straight on his nose.

"I said you wouldn't like it-"

"Of course I bloody well don't! You must be breaking thirty, maybe forty school rules!" Rose noticed him stop mid eye-roll cursing loudly through her tirade. What right does he have to treat Hogwarts like his own god damn parlour?

"Taking money from students for services that aren't official; utilising a room in the castle without permission;" she began overtly counting these things of her fingers, "allowing and abetting frivolity within the castle - "

"Frivolity? Seriously?" He snorted, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his jumper.

"If you're mocking me Malfoy, you're an imbecile. A complete and utter troll," Rose spat, trying to smooth down her hair in an attempt to compose herself.

"How do you even know the people using the broom cupboards are of age? Who knows if some of the younger students could be pressured into something elicit with an older student!" She said shrilly, willing him to have any sort of response that wasn't patronising.

"We can see the map."

"We?!"

"Don't be naïve, Red. Albus was totally in on this too. I'm pretty sure those years ago it was his ingenious idea," he said, looking out towards the corner of the room feigning nostalgia.

"You're lying," Rose muttered, completely shocked by this revelation about her cousin. Without meaning to, she leaned on the chair facing Scorpius, all the fight leaving her in one foul breath. She felt winded, her head began to spin so she sat down hard on the chair, elbows on the desk with her face in her hands.

A sigh escaped him and she heard the cabinet open and the chinking of glass on the desk. "How do you think we both bought new racing brooms at the start of the year?" he challenged, nudging her arm with a cold tumbler. She flinched away giving him a reproachful look.

"I thought –"

"You thought wrong." He stated, pouring a generous amount of amber liquid into both glasses. He sat one in front of her but she pushed it back towards him without much thought.

"Suit yourself," he downed his glass without wincing before pouring himself another. "We'd been saving the money we make here to buy them ourselves," he stated, finally meeting her gaze; one glass of fire whiskey and her silent disbelief apparently enough to instil confidence back into him.

"I can't believe this," she said in a small voice. She thought she knew Albus, thought she knew what he was capable of. Pranks and Slytherin emblem aside, she would never have believed her cousin would take such a risk to his Hogwarts career just to buy a new racing broom. How wrong she'd been.

"How many people know about this? How do you know the students are of age? How long has this been going on? How much money have you both made?" He raised his hand to halt her questioning before pushing the half-filled tumbler back towards her.

"I'll tell you, Red. Just slow the hell down," he said, swilling the whiskey in his glass so it churned towards the rim.

"People found out by word of mouth. Most people thought it was a good idea. They have a safe outlet that is monitored so they don't have to worry about it. You'd be surprised how many people utilise us." Rose couldn't quite believe he was telling her all this, confessing intricate parts of this big secret he and Albus had kept from her, and who knew how many more of her relations. Or perhaps you're the only one that doesn't know.

"As for the age, what do you think we are? Monsters?" He asked cautiously, as if he sensed she was ready to start yelling again. "We have magic in place for both age and … awareness."

Rose found herself making a face at this. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"I'm not. I'm giving you answers aren't I? Telling you what you want to here?" As he asked this a flicker of annoyance passed over his face. He took another swig and when he returned to look at her he was composed once more.

"Then be serious. How the hell are you policing this?"

"Anti-ageing potions," he stated simply, as if this were the most obvious answer in the world.

"How is that helping?" Rose asked sceptically.

"Well," he began, looking a little uncomfortable explaining this, "one of us does rounds while the other takes the desk."

"Are you both voyeurs now too?" she scoffed, unable to stop a mocking laugh escape her throat.

He stares at her for a moment, before nudging the glass further towards her again without breaking eye contact. Her face flushed as she realised what she's just asked.

"You know Chambers, the delightful boy you … disposed of?" Rose nodded once in acknowledgement.

"His girlfriend's sister is fourteen. Perhaps you'll understand now why I wasn't keen to take him up on the offer. He's a fucking creep. But because he's in the orchestra with Albus he found out. It has proven difficult to avoid people like him finding out," he admitted, taking another swig.

Rose reached out for the glass in front of her, tilting the liquid from one side to the other. The temptation to down the drink in one go and leave before she found out even more information she couldn't deal with was becoming paramount. She felt like it was a trick, already deceived to an incomprehensible extent, the thought of taking a swig of the whiskey was like accepting what they'd been doing. It would seem like she approved of it all. Taking the drink as if it were a peace offering. A silencer.

"Please have a drink, Red. You're shaking." She glanced back down at her hands and they were indeed sloshing the liquid around. She didn't rely on drink to calm her down. Didn't rely on it to keep her cool and measured, she'd already given up any composure when she'd seated herself opposite him. She felt resigned to the truth, her want of knowledge overwhelming her. Clasping the glass between her hands she poured the entire volume down her throat, coughing a little as the drink burned down her throat; the feeling of flames lapping her tongue, providing a further wave of nausea.

His eyes were wide now behind his glasses. He clearly hadn't expected her to finish it, though it had been a rash move on her part. One of the thousand parts of the evening she would regret in the morning. She felt worn out and exhausted.

"How long have you been doing this?" She croaked, her throat still feeling burnt raw.

"Two years this month."

"And you guys use this as well?" she asked, her tongue loosened by the fire whiskey and the question having built up in the back of her mind as he continued to stare at her.

"Sometimes." He stated, pushing his spectacles up his nose again and adjusting them.

A lump sat in her throat, a pressure forming from shock and disappointment. As she stared back incredulously he broke eye contact and began shaking his head.

"You forget Red, that unlike you, the rest of us don't have privacy of our own dormitory for fooling around." His voice was clipped. She looked on in disbelief, unable to comprehend what he was saying.

"What're you going on about?" She asked defensively.

"You and Rhodes. I knew before Chambers said anything," his voice now possessed a cool quality as he averted his eyes. Although, after all this, there was a need in the back of her mind for him to want to look at her. To not know how she'd been treating Rhodes and to not turn the tables on her. To make her feel ashamed of herself.

"How? I don't go around telling people," she managed in a small voice. Her own guilt casting a dark shadow over her own morality. She knew he was being cunning, trying to turn the attention towards her but in truth she hadn't known people were aware of it. That alone was still something she was trying to take in.

"I saw you," his tone hollow.

"W-w-when?"

He looked at her then, and his eyes burned. His glasses were thrust on the table as he leaned over it, gaze fixated on her face as if scrutinising her very soul and when he spoke tears welled in her eyes, "I saw you fucking him, steaming drunk, in the changing rooms at the end of last year."

She blinked. Trying to force the tears away, to hide her embarrassment at having been caught out all along.

"Everyone knows you've been screwing him up in the Head's Tower," he added, coldly.

Never in all the years she'd know him had he spoken to her in such a way. As if his teasing and good natured pestering had all been a lie, when all the while he'd been thinking this of her. That she was some other worthless slag, the only difference being the Head Girl badge on her chest. And just as suddenly as she'd felt guilty, her anger flooded back like being dunked under freezing water.

How dare he try to make this about her indiscretions? How dare he try to play the innocent in all of this after what she's caught him doing; her cousin's involvement be damned. And how dare he try to humiliate her for what she'd been doing? Maybe she had her own motives and more privacy than most but she wasn't making profit from it. Instead of cowering with guilt under his gaze she stood up to stare back at him, puffing out her chest defiantly.

"Stop making this about me, Malfoy. That's none of your business," his eyes flickered for a moment but he stared resolutely back. "Besides, why the hell do you care? What right have you to talk about my private life in such a way?"

It took a moment for the blush to become apparent. His warm breath on her face was still distracting against her will as they stood with only the desk between them, both leaned over so their faces were only a foot apart. Starting at his ears a dull colour covered his cheeks as he continued to look on, his lips parted as his eyes began to dart around her face – her eyes, the freckles across her nose, her lips. They hovered there a moment before the meaning of her questioning and his silence in response hit her like a sledge hammer. She recoiled in shock.

Once again he dusted down the non-existent lint off his jumper, it appeared to give him something to focus his attention on so as to not have to look at her. Only this time, they were fumbling hands, no nonchalance or confidence in sight. He put his glasses back on. She bit her lip.

This realisation did nothing for the churning in her stomach, transforming into butterflies it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore.

"I've got to tell McGonagall about this you know?" she said, more tentatively than she should have. Still reeling from his unspoken confession. He had just tried to take the heat off himself by speaking openly about her sexual encounters after all. He sighed, running long, slender fingers through his hair, putting his glasses back on.

His eyes went to the ceiling (she hoped it wasn't so he could avoid looking at her), "please talk to Albus before you do that."

"Why?" she asked stubbornly.

"Because…," another few hands ran through his hair, making it more of a dishevelled mess, "…because he'd kill me if I at least didn't ask you to. And," his eyes found hers, and they were already filled with regret before he spoke, "you could make a lot of enemies by shutting us down."

Her fist clenched at her side, it was like a jab of annoyance in her chest. She assumed it was a warning, not a threat. However, it still left a bitter taste in her mouth. After everything she'd just discovered she wasn't quite sure what he meant by it.

"Do you really think that's my priority in all this?" she asked truthfully.

"I'm just telling you like it is." He sat back down, looking completely dejected – a huge contrast to the self-assured, cordial bloke she'd walked in on earlier. "Like I've always done." He added as if an afterthought.

Rose had heard enough tonight. Her mind was swimming and her head throbbing; the tell-tale signs of a terrible night's sleep (thank Merlin it was Saturday) ahead. She nodded by way of farewell, something that had passed between the two of them many times before. She heard him sigh downcast as she closed the door behind her.

This isn't the same as the other times.

She had no idea what time of night it was when she finally crawled into bed. Having changed into her pajamas and washing in a daze. The night's discovery, and the multitude of unanswered questions battering the inside of her brain. How disillusioned had she been about the two of them. Up to mischief when really, they were running an underground business to allow students a crass method of hooking up. She groaned in the dark, the fact he'd pointed out about her own privacy implying she could abuse it with a boy she didn't really care about, enough to make her heart ache.

When she closed her eyes she saw his face as he blushed under the lamplight.

She knew she wasn't thinking clearly. After tossing and turning for some time, she figured the best thing to do would be to do as Scorpius had suggested and speak to Albus about it after all. Surely he'd be able to explain it with a little more clarity. She then had to remind herself that him and Scorpius had been doing this under her nose for two years now, so would Albus really tell her the truth? Family or not?

As the birds began to stir outside, sleep claimed her.


Please R/R if you have the time. Reviews are like gold dust.
**Mischief managed**