Trouble

I stared out the window at the rain pouring down outside, the weather echoing my gloomy mood. I was always getting into trouble of some sort or another—I assumed it was the combination of my mother's cleverness and the Weasley love of fun—but I had never been stuck in a situation this bad before. I had no clue what I was supposed to do. The only person who could help me out of this mess was likewise the only person at Hogwarts that I would normally never dream of asking for help. But I couldn't see any other way out. As I contemplated the situation, I thought back to how I had gotten into it in the first place.

It had all started yesterday, in the Great Hall at breakfast. I was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, talking with my best friend Isobel Stewart, when Stephanie Cauldwell slipped into the seat opposite me. Stephanie is one of the most annoying people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. The two of us had a fight in first year, and have been antagonistic towards each other ever since. So when she came and sat down opposite me, I wasn't exactly overjoyed. Then she started talking. She's always saying things that sound perfectly normal, but are nasty underneath. Today was no different.

"So, Rose, who are you going into Hogsmeade with next week?"

Normally when she starts talking I just roll my eyes and try to ignore her. But today I was too tired to care. I'm not exactly a morning person. I vaguely waved my hand in the direction of the door. I had heard her say something about going somewhere, and hoped that that would answer her question. She turned and stared over my shoulder. Then she turned around again, a look of amazement on her face.

"You're going to Hogsmeade with Malfoy?"

"Mmm," I responded, and picked up my fork to continue eating. Suddenly my brain registered what she had said. Going to Hogsmeade? Malfoy? I looked up. He had just sat down at the Slytherin table—he must have been walking in the door just as I vaguely motioned in that direction. Oh Merlin. Now what was I going to do?

Malfoy and I have never been friends—not since he laughed at me in first year for falling off my broom in our first flying lesson. I've never been very good at flying. I'm all Granger in that respect. But my temper is all Weasley—I got detention for the way I yelled at Malfoy after he laughed at me. We've been on the worst of terms ever since.

And now, I had just told Stephanie Cauldwell—one of the worst gossips at Hogwarts, nonetheless—that I was going to Hogsmeade with him. There was only one thing I could do about it: go and confess to Malfoy before Stephanie spread it around the school. I was surprised that Malfoy hadn't already heard of it. But since he hadn't, I got to be the one to tell him. How exciting.

I sighed, closed the window curtains, and headed downstairs to the common-room, where I entered into a discussion with Lorcan Scamander, my best friend, about the merits or otherwise of the Hampstead Hornets. He thought they were amazing, while I absolutely knew that they sucked (Seriously! The only team out there worse than them are the Chudley Cannons!). At least it put my most recent mess-up out of my head for a while.

The next afternoon, I headed down to lunch with a do-or-die expression on my face. I had a free period directly afterwards, and I knew, from certain past encounters that would take too long to repeat here, that Malfoy also did. So I was planning to confront him, tell him about the stupid mistake I'd made this time, and ask for his help. That was going to be fun.

I didn't manage to eat much during lunch, not compared to my usual enormous appetite. When the remains of food had vanished, I walked outside to where I had seen Malfoy go just minutes earlier. It took me about five tries to actually walk up to him. There was a reason I hadn't been put in Gryffindor.

Finally I managed to stammer out: "Er…Malfoy? Could I…um…talk to you? Privately," I added, glancing at his friends. He raised an eyebrow sceptically, but followed me over to a deserted part of the courtyard.

"What do you want, Weasley?"

"I'm in a bit of a predicament and I—I need your help."

"Let me get this straight. You, Rose Weasley, are asking me, Scorpius Malfoy, for help."

"Er, yes, that's about it," I mumbled.

"So what is it you need my help with, Weasley? Your homework?", he inquired sarcastically.

I glared at him. "I am a Ravenclaw, you know. But if you ever need any help with your homework"—I had momentarily forgotten what I needed and had slipped into our usual banter— "do be sure to let me know." Then I remembered why I had voluntarily started a conversation with Malfoy in the first place. I groaned inwardly, took a deep breath, and said determinedly: "No, actually, I need you to go to Hogsmeade with me next Saturday."

He definitely hadn't been expecting that. "You what?"

"Need you to go to Hogsmeade with me next Saturday."

He looked shocked. "Why?"

I explained. When I had finished, he said: "So, basically, you want me to save you from being a laughingstock and being unmercifully teased."

"That's about it."

"And why, Weasley, do you think that I would want to prevent that?"

"Good point." I was silent for a bit. "Um…because I'll give you a Galleon if you do?"

He scoffed. "Malfoys don't take bribes."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Really? I've heard differently." I sighed. "So are you going to help me out or not? Hurry up and decide, I haven't got all day."

He eyed me for a minute. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said: "I suppose. No reason why I shouldn't. And now that I come to think of it, Weasley, your hair isn't quite as awful as it used to be. And you do have nice eyes."

I half smiled as he walked away from me. Maybe this date wasn't going to be so bad after all.