A/N: Well, it seems that after about two years of laziness, I've finally come out of retirement and started afresh (under a new pen name of course ;). Now, instead of writing about the 2nd generation of our beloved Hogwarts students, I will continue the story with the 3rd, telling about the sordid romances, comedic occurrences, and roll-your-eyes worthy situations that the newest batch of Potters and Weasleys encounter at the most famous magical school in the world. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own the idea nor the marvelous characters of Ms. Rowling…I just use them as my playthings 

Chapter One

"Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank god you inherited your mother's brains."

These were the words Ron Weasley spoke to his daughter more than five years ago at the beginning of her first year at Hogwarts, and these were the words she had taken to heart.

For five years, Rose Weasley beat Scorpius Malfoy in everything—Quidditch matches (she was Gryffindor's best seeker since the infamous Harry Potter), classes (she was the first in all of them—no surprise there, considering who her mother was), and even in romance (she was the most popular witch in Hogwarts, and the object of affection for numerous wizards, and even the occasional witch).



But this year, their sixth year at Hogwarts, was going to be different, Scorpius vowed, scowling in the usual Malfoy manner at his own reflection in the mirror.

He tugged at a piece of silvery blonde hair that fell into his eyes and his scowl deepened. Oh how he despised his hair. It was the Malfoy trademark. Besides the devilishly good looks and light grey eyes of course. But he didn't really mind either of those—it made him extremely popular with the witches. It was just his hair…he'd hated it ever since his mother had commented (in public!) on how it was as soft and beautiful as a girl's.

His mates had teased him mercilessly for a year after that particular comment made the front page of the Daily Prophet.

"Scorpius dear, you've gotten your school letter!" came the voice of his mother, Astoria Malfoy. She was a kind, gentle, beautiful woman, and many had speculated on the fact that she'd chosen Draco Malfoy, the so-called "cold hearted bastard" to wed instead of a respectable member of Wizarding society. Of course, the day Astoria heard a witch questioning her intent of marrying him, she'd hexed the woman so fast Scorpius, who'd been standing beside her, hadn't even blinked before the woman had begun to cough up slugs.

"Now you listen here," she'd said in a deadly whisper to the woman who was whimpering on the ground. "I am in love with the man you all have deemed unworthy of your respect and admiration, and have birthed a son that is his spitting image. If you dare to question my love, or my reason for marrying him, you'd better be prepared to deal with the consequences. And believe me, they will bloody well be the most horrific, and painful consequences you have ever endured."

She'd lifted the hex off the woman, and then swept away with her head held high, her stunned son trailing behind her.



That had been the day Scorpius had decided to never anger his mother. Ever.

"Oh darling, do get that angry look off of your face. You look too much like your grandfather when you look like that," Astoria said, shuddering. Lucius Malfoy had passed away two years ago, but still managed to frighten any witch or wizard stupid enough to remember him.

Immediately Scorpius softened his face and turned toward his mother with a smile. "That's better," Astoria told him, nodding. She swept him up into a light hug and sighed. "Oh Scorpi, you've almost grown up. Whatever shall your father and I do when you leave us?"

"Probably be as involved with each other as ever, Mother."

Astoria's tinkling laugh filled his ears. It was true, the Malfoys were as in love as they had been on their wedding day, and it showed plainly whenever they were in the same room as each other.

She released her son and turned to leave, when Scorpius' hesitant voice stopped her. "Mother? I…I know what my Hogwarts letter says. McGonagall told me, before we left for summer break."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It…it appears I've made Head Boy."

Astoria whirled around and it took exactly two seconds (Scorpius counted) for her to cross the room and all but tackle her only son to the ground with the force of her hug. "Oh, oh, oh my precious Scorpius! Oh my darling, that's wonderful news! I'll alert your father immediately, oh how proud he will be of you! Draco! Draco my love, come quickly!"

"Mother—Mother please—only son—lack of oxygen—"

She let him go, only to continue her shrieking.



"Mother, there is… one other thing that McGonagall told me."

Astoria paused. "Yes?" she asked questioningly.

"The new Head Girl. It's Rose Weasley."

Astoria winced. She knew better than anyone the fierce competition that her son and the Weasley girl had been in since they had both started at Hogwarts.

"…Oh dear."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Rose Weasley groaned and slammed her head against the table top before her, causing her brilliant red curls to bounce. This was the third time she'd done this, and it managed to capture the attention of her mother, who had walked into the Burrow's clean, newly-tidy kitchen, and then promptly forgotten the reason she'd gone there in the first place when she noticed her daughter's strange behavior.

"Rose dear? What on earth are you doing?" Hermione Granger-Weasley asked quizzically. She took a seat next to her sixteen year old daughter and gently poked Rose's side. "You know, you'll squish that adorable button nose of yours if you continue."

The girl picked her head up long enough to give her mother a half-hearted glare with her striking green eyes and shove a torn piece of parchment at her before covering her freckle-free (thank god) face with her hands.



Hermione took the paper and read it quickly, her honey-brown eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, my Rosie's going to be Head Girl!" she cried, flinging her arms around Rose's neck with her infamously suffocating hug.

"Mum—" Rose began.

"Oh dear, your father will be SO proud when we tell him! Oh imagine, the first Weasley ever to be a Head Girl!"

"Mum—"

"Maybe I'll floo your Aunt Ginny, goodness knows she'll be as overjoyed as me—"

"MUM!" Rose shouted. Hermione stopped her rambling and impatiently pushed a strand of curly brown hair out of her eyes. "What is it Rose?"

"You didn't see who the Head Boy is."

Hermione frowned and scanned the letter over again. When she found the name, her eyebrows shot up and she put a hand over her mouth. "Oh dear…"

Rose slammed her head back down on the table.