Story Notes:

I would like to thank isadora duncan and babewithbrains for their help with the title of this fic. Thank you so much, guys! :) The primary pairing in this fic is Rose/Scorpius, but this is a mystery, and will focus less on romance. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I'm just borrowing it for a bit of fun. :) All original characters, however, are mine.

Author's Chapter Notes:

Hey all! This was written almost two years ago, and may seem juvenile in parts, but it was my first next-gen fic. So... I hope you guys enjoy it. Reviews will me much appreciated, and responded to (guests can find their responses at the end of the chapter, a day or two after reviewing).

1. Looming Danger

Abby Clarke tossed about in her bed, praying that the terrible headache would vanish. It was just too much: her head wouldn't stop pounding and she was very sleepy, yet unable to sleep. Finally, she sat up on her bed and buried her face in her hands for a while, wondering what to do.

She could see the first rays of the sun through the window right beside her. She got out of bed and decided to get ready for the day. She was a fifth year Gryffindor at Hogwarts, which meant that this was OWL year and she couldn't afford to cut even a single one of her classes. But these health issues that she seemed to be having were really getting to her nerves. It was about time that she did something regarding this problem. Today, she would definitely go to Madam Pomfrey and get something for all the discomfort she seemed to be going through in the last few days.

Discomfort… well, it was an understatement to what she was feeling. She was extremely tired all the time but every night when she went to bed, there was invariably either a headache or a stomach ache that kept her awake. Mornings started with a terrible bout of nausea almost always followed by an episode or two of vomiting. And then the nausea stayed through the day. It only seemed to vanish at night while she tried to sleep. But sometimes, it kept her awake through the night, too. Apart from that, she had started to develop cravings for weird kind of food.

Abby walked to the bathroom and shut the door, sitting on the floor and waiting for the nausea to take over as usual. At fifteen she was a tall, thin girl with deep green eyes and shoulder length straight blonde hair. A few pimples were scattered here and there on her face and she considered herself quite good looking otherwise. But then she had noticed lately that her face had grown quite pale. The pallor seemed to become worse everyday. She guessed that it was due to her recent ill-health.

The attack of nausea came and Abby took deep breaths, groaning a little. Her boyfriend, Ian, was worried for her like hell. He had been insisting that she visit Madam Pomfrey for a while now, but she had assured him that it was not that serious. How concerned Ian was for her! He always took care of her and comforted her through the mystery illness she seemed to be having. She loved him so much…

Ian… He was in Gryffindor like Abby and was tall and lanky with brown eyes and brown curly hair. He was, in Abby's eyes, the handsomest boy she had ever come across. And the smartest, too. He was very good with what seemed like every single subject and if it hadn't been for Rose Weasley, Abby's extremely intelligent roommate, he would have been at the top of the class.

He was the best. He was wonderful. Abby could never think of anyone whom she loved more than him. She was ready to do anything for him. Ian… Ian… Ian. Now she was crazy about him too— especially since her relationship with Ian had gone a step ahead.

They were both in Ian's room, talking animatedly about Quidditch— well, Ian talked animatedly, while Abby listened. Ian played on the Gryffindor team as a Chaser and he was pretty good on the Quidditch pitch too. Abby knew how much he loved Quidditch, so she would sit with him after every match and let him go on about the throws and catches and match statistics. She didn't care as long as talking about it made him happy. She had become selfless long ago.

Presently, Abby looked lovingly into Ian's eyes as he talked on and on and before she knew it, she had leaned in and kissed him. She pulled away, but he put his hands on her cheeks and drew her back, kissing her fiercely. She kissed him back and while doing so, she began to unbutton her shirt. He pulled away this time, but just for a moment to ask her a question. "Do you want to do it?"

"Yes," she whispered, undoing the next button. She was a virgin and so was he but somehow, both of them knew how to proceed.

He nodded and drew the curtains of his four poster bed shut. Then he pulled his t-shirt over his head, after which she pulled him back in a kiss, feeling his hands move around and slowly unhook her bra…

Abby felt the nausea peak and crawled to the toilet, bending over and starting to retch. As she threw out her dinner, she wondered if what Rose had said to her could really be true. The latter had quietly handed Abby a Muggle pregnancy test the previous evening and explained to her that Abby's symptoms were very close to that of pregnancy. But Abby couldn't see how she was pregnant. True, she had had unprotected sex with Ian, but that had been merely two or three days after the last day of her period. Chances that she was pregnant were really slim. Then again, Abby was at least a week late for her period this month. So… could pregnancy be it?

She got up to her feet unsteadily, flushed the toilet and brushed her teeth weakly. She was getting worse daily, and this had to be put a stop to before it grew serious. Yes. Tonight, she'd go to Madam Pomfrey and get herself treated.

Pi pi peee!

Pi pi peee!

Rose Weasley sat up on her bed and yawned, before switching off the alarm. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. Then she reached over to her shelf and extracted a few books. The OWLs were just months away and Rose had a nagging fear that she would never be able to finish studying everything before the exams if she didn't put in some extra hours of revision. She arranged her books on the bed and walked to the bathroom to find it occupied. She sighed: when would Abby go to Madam Pomfrey with her symptoms? Knocking on the door, Rose called out her roommate's name: "Abby?"

Brianna, her other roommate, groaned from her bed. "Could you keep the volume low, Rosie?"

"Sorry, Bri," said Rose. She went back and sat on her bed, waiting for Abby to finish using the bathroom and staring out of the window as she did so. The feeble sunrays were battling with the gloomy skies, and being defeated each time. Rose shivered a little, even though the temperature was pleasant enough. Her gut instinct told her that today was not going to be a good day. Ten minutes later Abby walked out of the bathroom, toweling her hair after a bath. She smiled at Rose before pulling out her robes from her trunk and drawing the curtains of her four poster to change.

Rose took some of her clothes and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and picking up her toothbrush. In the mirror in front of her, she could see a redhead stare back at her. She was an average-heighted teenager with long, curly, fiery red hair, blue eyes and a freckled face. Half the people who knew her parents seemed to think she looked like her mother, but the other half swore she looked like her father. All in all, she looked an equivalent mixture of both her parents. But putting aside looks, she always thought that she herself was a mixture of both of them. She had certainly inherited her mother's brains, but with that came her father's lazy attitude towards academics. It took her great amounts of effort to discipline herself and utilize her brains: yet, she mostly studied in the last minute before her exams, somehow managing to stay at the top of the class even then— it seemed more like luck than anything else.

Sighing, she pulled off her nightclothes and proceeded into the shower, drawing the curtain around her. She was a Prefect (much to her mother's delight and Uncle George's disappointment) and there was always the special bathroom but she only preferred to go there in the evenings. She turned the tap on and let the warm water from the shower drench her completely, enjoying every drop… drowning herself in the freshness…

Then without warning, Rose heard a bloodcurdling scream from her dormitory. And the voice belonged to Brianna.