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Author's Note: Hi. I'm pretty lazy, so don't expect anything crazy like daily updates... this story is almost like a test for me; I really want to stick to one story and focus on it, and I'd quite like to throw around some ideas in this one. DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT CANON. WELL, NOT COMPLETELY. I'm placing this story in 2017, the year that Albus begins to attend Hogwarts. I'm not at all following Cursed Child canon, but all previous book canon and theory applies. This might get dark, and I'll change that rating if necessary. I think there are a lot of unexplored dynamics and magical physics out there, and I'm excited to dip my hand into some of them. As always, please favorite, review and share!!! Any motivation I get is very helpful, and inspires me to write more. Enjoy!!

Albus felt glum. As in, seriously glum. He assumed the teasing was inevitable. The jeers behind his back seemed to be proof of that. His sorting had been an absolute disaster; tripping over his own robes, nearly crashing into McGonagall, all to be sorted into Slytherin. Goddamn Slytherin. Rose didn't offer much sympathy; it had been only a week and her Gryffindor clique had their noses in their books, all competing to be the next "Hermione Granger-Weasley". Albus imagined that she had been obligated to set an example for all the other girls to show them "how it's done" or something like that.

He could picture her voice so clearly now. "Like these kids even know my mother!" And yet, he would always lose the opportunity to point out that "these kids" were often older than her.

Then there was that Malfoy. Getting all buddy-buddy with Albus on the train, only to disappear into the shadows like a true git. The silent Malfoy, that's what he'd call him. Always sitting at the front of the class, always making top grades, but never having friends. It was something that Albus could relate to but didn't want to voice; Malfoy would have to say it to his face first.

Albus walked into the Great Hall and sat at the very far end of the Slytherin table, near all the crappy food. The pumpernickel toast that no one ever wanted to eat (for some weird reason), the muggle poppy seed bagels that made your breath smell weird. He sipped at his pumpkin juice and crinkled his nose. It was an acquired taste, one he doubt he'd get used to but drank out of fear of further scrutinization.

The post began coming in and Alastor, the family owl, dropped a letter near his plate. Albus ruffled his feathers lovingly. The owl hooted and flew off, likely up to the nursery. He turned back to the letter, finding that it was from his father.

The silent Malfoy sat down across from him, his nose in a Prophet his dad had probably sent him the day before, as he collected a bagel into his plate, nearly spilling juice over it. Being the son of the Editor in Chief had its benefits, Albus assumed. The two usually sat near the end of the table, out of a silent mutual agreement of sorts. The git would keep his nose in his Prophet and leave Albus on his side to mope in social desperation. So naturally, Albus was taken aback when the Malfoy spoke before he had the chance to open his letter.

"Your uncle was arrested."

Albus looked up; Malfoy still had his nose in the Prophet, as if he hadn't even said anything. "Did you say something?"

"Yes, Potter. Your dear uncle was arrested for assaulting someone drunk last night."

"How the hell do you know that if you got the Prophet yesterday morning?"

Malfoy took his nose out of his parchment. "I didn't get it yesterday." He shook its pages out towards Albus, pointing at the date. The blond boy tapped the paper with his wand, and it transformed into the previous day's copy. "It's enchanted. My dad just gave it to me before term started. It turns into the new Prophet every day." He then stuck his nose in it again like their dialogue was nothing.

Albus stares at him curiously. "Are we just going to pretend that we haven't given the silent treatment to each other in a week?"

Scorpius spared him a shrug. "I don't see why not. It's not like you have better company, or any company for that matter."

"This is true." Albus went back to his breakfast, but then widened his eyes. "Wait, did you just say that Ron was arrested?!"

"Are all Potters this dense?" He looked at Albus again. "Yes, look. I told you five minutes ago, you nitwit."

Malfoy gave the paper to Albus this time, who grasped it and scanned it furiously.

Ronald Weasley was arrested yesterday under the charge of drunken assault outside a pub in London. The assailant was reported to be one Theodore Nott, the son of the famous Death Eater. Witnesses on the scene describe a violent fight. "Weasley was just on 'im," an anonymous man recounts. "Nott, bloody fella stood no chance. Man just jumped on 'im, innit? No wand, no nuffin'. I ain't seen things this bad since that ol' Zabini got 'imself inna that brawl wid' Potter. Bloody brilliant, I say. Sell it on television, make a pound or two!" Harry Potter, head of the DMLE, had no comment on the situation. Minister Granger-Weasley has not been heard from; we imagine she is contemplating her mistakes in solitude. The accused's bail is currently being negotiated, although he will of course get off with a clean record, being a friend of Potter and all.

Albus looked up at Malfoy. "Skeeter. This is a ploy, right?"

He shook his head. "No. My dad wouldn't let that cow on the paper unless she had actual news; I believe she was the only one with the story finished in time to be published."

"And how do you know that?"

"I'm not stupid. I piece things together."

Someone tossed a note in Albus' plate, right on his buttered toast. He sighed; probably another stupid remark about his eyebrows or something. Instead, he found an odd message: Your cousin looks mildly infuriated.

"Which one," Albus muttered under his breath, looking around for the sender. His gaze landed on the Gryffindor table, where the cousin most likely in question seemed to be pulling her hair out. Malfoy followed his gaze and frowned at Rose.

"That doesn't look healthy. You might want to put a stop to it."

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're pissing me off, staring at her waiting for her to come over and say hi."

Albus sighed. This morning was not going how he expected it to. Shooting a sharp glance at Malfoy and keeping an eye out for the unknown note sender, he stood up from his table and walked over. The whispers followed him as he approached Rose from behind, who still didn't notice him. One of her friends took a break from trying to calm her down to fire a deadly look his way. "What do you think you're doing here?"

Rose looked up at the auditory cue, finally laying eyes on her cousin in over a week. Her cheeks were already encrusted with dried tears, and her normally frizzy hair was tangled in messy heaps. Her nails were bitten down to stubs and she had bags under her eyes. Albus was surprised yet again. "God, Rose. What are you doing to yourself?"

Her bottom lip trembled and she burst into tears, standing up to bury her head in Albus' shoulder and throwing her arms around him. She sobbed, wetting his robes as her friends stared at her in shock. Albus wasn't sure what to do, so he patted her back awkwardly and tried to drown out the morning hustle and whispers. Rose was almost shaking. "I'm so sorry, Al! I'm such a horrible cousin, I didn't even p-pay attention to you and I just w-wanted to shut you out and then dad—" She started hiccuping uncontrollably.

Albus spotted the exit and slowly shuffled Rose towards it, thinking it wise to have this conversation elsewhere. Her friends watched him like hawks, their eyes never leaving him until he was out of the Hall. The whispers faded.

He looked back at Rose, who was staring up at him expectantly. Her hiccups had reduced dramatically, but her eyes refused to stop releasing a constant stream of tears. Albus looked at his cousin for another moment, and his heart broke. He started crying too, and the two stood there for a while, trying to comfort each other.

Albus decided to take Rose to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey bustled around them. She had given Rose a draught that forced her tear ducts to stop producing tears, leading her to sit on the cot feeling really weird. He had an arm around her. "I take it you forgive me, then?"

Rose looked up at him, her eyes swimming with sadness and the tears that she couldn't let go. "Why would you be saying sorry to me?"

"There must be a reason you haven't been talking to me."

She wiped at her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you... there have been rumors spreading, and I didn't want you to catch drift of them..."

Albus smirked. "You think I haven't heard them already? The ones that claim I'm the product of a secret affair, the ones that say I'm secretly adopted, the ones that say that Voldemort's swimming around in my head, too?"

Rose shivered. "How did... how did you hear all of them?"

"I'm older than you. You can't baby me."

She punched his shoulder lightly and finally smiled, her dad momentarily forgotten. "Damn you."

"Language!"

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey!"

Malfoy stormed his way into the Wing, leaving a trail of frazzled injured students in his wake as he approached Rose's bed. He pushed his glasses up his face and stood next to Albus, clutching his books. "You okay?" he asked her.

"What are you doing here, Mal... Scorpius?"

Rose punched Albus again, harder this time. "He's just checking on me, I'm sure."

Scorpius blushed. "I saw what happened and I wanted to make sure you guys were okay."

Albus watched at the exchange between both of them and pieced it together. "You two are dating, aren't you?"

Rose pursed her lips while Scorpius looked offended. "Me? Her? No. We're only eleven! We're just friends."

Albus glances at Rose, who didn't seem that satisfied with his answer. "Yeah. Friends."

The three stared at each other awkwardly, the tension palpable between them. Scorpius was the first to clear his throat. "So. Shall we head to class?"

Albus and Rose nodded profusely and got up. "Please." They tried to leave, but Madam Pomfrey dragged Rose back in and demanded to do more tests to make sure she was okay mentally.

Rose's eyes watered up again at the mention of her father and she began to cry again, the draught having worn off. Madam Pomfrey looked at Rose sadly. "Mr. Malfoy, you can go. Mr. Potter, can you stay here and help your cousin?"

Albus nodded and lead Rose back to her bed, letting her cry into his shoulder again. Scorpius watched the scene from just outside, where he had been shooed to. His gaze lingered on Rose until someone walked past him, giving him a weird look. He then to class, looking flustered after checking the time.

"Ron."

Hermione tried calling his name softly, to no avail. Her husband was strapped to a metal chair, his arms bound around the back. His hair was ragged and messy, and a shiner stood out on his right eye.

She tried again; same result. So, she took things into her own hands.

Ron was awakened by a jet of ice cold water. He gasped and jolted upright, coughing sharply. He shook the water from his eyes and looked at his wife, who seemed oddly calm. "Mione?"

She repeated the word silently, her own name ghosting her lips. Then she hit him with the water again. And again. He turned into a spluttering mess by the time she finally stopped, still maintaining her eerily calm demeanor. "Baby, what's wrong?"

When Hermione spoke, she seemed to snap. Her fists trembled and sparks appeared around her. "What's wrong? You have the audacity to say that? What's wrong? What the hell is wrong with you, you bloody moron! You git, you've been arrested! By Harry, nonetheless! And you ask me what's wrong? You ABSOLUTE, HYPOCRITICAL BIT-"

Harry stepped in, saw the look on his friend's face, and immediately disarmed her. The sparks still flickered around her and she turned towards Harry, looking furious enough to sock him in the face. "YOU! I will fire you right here and now if you don't-" He silenced her too. Her mouth moved until she found she was silent, after which she made moves to actually hit him. Harry blocked her slap and hugged her instead. The silencing charm broke as she shook, refusing to cry but not having the strength to be calm like before. Ron simply stared at her back until she turned around.

"I know I screwed up."

Harry scoffed. "Mate, you have some serious nerve. She's gonna kill you after bail."

Hermione ignored Harry. "You can't keep pulling stunts like this! Do you have any idea what you've done, you arse? The whole media is going to be on Hugo now, not to mention how Rose is doing!"

"Oh, no. How is Rosie?" Ron asked, biting his bottom lip.

"I would know if she decided to even write back to me!"

"I thought you left Hugo with Luna?" Harry spoke this time.

Hermione sighed. "I did. She's at home now, meaning Hugo should be free from press until I pick him up tomorrow... poor boy gets afraid of all the cameras."

Ron gave her a look. "'I'? Am I not going to get Hugo?"

Hermione fumed at him. She then stormed out of the room, yelling something about "dense" and "prison" and "paperwork".

Harry stared back at his friend. He shrugged. "I can't argue with her. I don't want to get fired."

Ron aimed his gaze to the floor. "She can't be taking this that seriously. I can get bailed out before a trial..."

"You haven't seen the Prophet yet. Malfoy let Skeeter publish..." A groan. "...and she's talking about the whole 'preference' thing again. You're gonna have the entire wizarding press on your arse when you get out of here. I'll talk to Mione about you staying with me for a few days; it'll be better on Hugo and her."

"Won't I intrude? I don't want to bother Lily...

Harry smiled softly. "She's with her mum this week."

Ron's face hardened. "Right."

Harry sighed. "Get over it. We split two years ago. Not everything has a happy ending."

Ron laughed drily and mentioned to his bound hands with his head. "You think?"