A/N: This is my first story on this website so critiques would be widely appreciated! The story will revolve around the Hogwarts students in the year 2021, but will be widely Scorose focused as for character pairings. Thanks for reading, andplease review!

Disclaimer: Characters are by JKR, but the plot of this story is mine :)

CHAPTER ONE

He holds her hand inside the pub, smooth fingers encircled in her clutch. She looks tired, the bags beneath her eyes subtle but present, and when she kisses him she seems awfully detached, staring into empty space before turning away.

"I've got some Charms homework to do. You know how Flitwick is," she says, detangling her hands from his.

"Rose, you've only been here for fifteen minutes. Please, relax a little. Get a drink."

He tries to put an arm around her waist but she shrugs him off. He begins to beckon over the waitress, Kate or something like that, but Rose has already slipped away. She waves goodbye to him before vanishing outside the doorway, and into the crowded streets. He puts his head into his hands. In the corner of his eye, he notices someone approaching.

Fabian Zabini slides into the seat where Rose had been only seconds prior.

"Zabini," he says. "What did you want?"

"Hello there, Scamander. It seems like Rose was in quite a rush."

"What's it to you?"

Zabini runs his finger along his glass, the condensation circling around his bronzed skin.

"Nothing. Just wanted to know ah, if she's feeling alright. You two still together, Scamander?"

Zabini seems almost bored as he asks, playing with the golden buttons of his perfectly iron-pressed sleeve, the shirt cuff stiff and unwrinkled. His silk robes flounder as he shifts to the side, leaning his weight on his elbow.

"As I said, what's it to you?" Lysander says, a bit irritable.

"As I said, nothing. My friend over there-" Zabini points to a bloke with hair pale and blond as snow, "-thinks she's fit, that's all."

Scamander snorts. "She's a person, you know. Not something for you to just ogle when you're feeling bored."

"Whatever, mate. I just know she didn't seem all too interested in hanging around you." With that, Zabini gives him a mocking salute and strides back over to his table, putting an arm around his blonde friend. Upon closer look, Scamander could see the bloke was Scorpius, a classmate of his. Their conversation is drowned out by the roar of the pub, and Scamander sighs before waving the barmaid over. He orders enough butterbeer for two and downs them both himself.

Scorpius likes to stand outside when he's feeling overwhelmed. He goes out to the middle of the Quidditch pitch and just stands there, broom in his outstretched hand, head aimed up at the sky.

Sometimes Fabian Zabini will come by and lay out, sprawled on the dewy grass with his girlfriend, Adeline Nott. They like talking about their parents and how annoying it is that Zabini's dad is already on his fifth wife, ten years his junior. Alex Parkinson comes by from time to time, but not when Zabini is around, because Zabini thinks Parkinson is a useless tosser.

Most of the time, though, it's just Scorpius and his broom. And after a lengthy session of staring up into the greyness of the sky, Scorpius likes to go for a fly.

In the end, he ends up shooting a few hoops with a quaffle (star Chaser, he is) and doing a few laps around the pitch, attempting various spins and turns. He's still in midair when he sees her.

He didn't expect for Rose to be there today. She's sitting by herself, her feet bare and shoes kicked to the side. She's holding a book, but she doesn't seem to be reading it. Her back is leaned against an old tree, her red hair loose and swirling in curls around her face.

He waves at her from his spot on the pitch, and she half-heartedly waves back. Not at all hesitant, he flies back to the ground and drops his broom, walking towards Rose's spot by the tree.

Her lips part into a smile as he gets closer. They're cherry red against her white teeth. She's often told she has a nice smile, and part of her knows it.

"Hey there Malfoy," she teases. "Nice moves you got there."

He laughs a bit before taking a seat next to her. They aren't particularly close, but they've been partners in Potions almost every year now (which is saying something- they are in their fifth year, after all), so he thinks he knows her well enough. He knows her favorite color is navy blue and that her bedsheets have The Singing' Sirens' logo all over them. She knows he owns a pair of boxers Albus bought him, and that they've got little golden snitches running down the hem.

"I saw you run out on Scamander today. You seemed like you were in a hurry, and, er," he pauses.

"What?" she asks.

" I was worried."

"How kind of you, Scorpius," she quips. "Glad to know you're so concerned about my dating life."

"Ha ha," he says, rolling his eyes. "Really, are you okay? Not to pry."

She raises an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you were so interested in the state of my happiness."

"I always have been," he says. His face is earnest, vulnerable. He is, if anything, honest. Rose tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She doesn't really know how to respond to that, so she just gives him a smile. He's always honest with her, and yet it never fails to surprise her, every time.

"There's just some stuff going on. Your friend, Fabian, is involved I'm sure. At least, his father is."

"Really? Fill me in, Weasley. I don't know everything, even though I may seem to."

"Oh, shut up. It's just…" she trails off. Her eyes roam around, not making contact with Scorpius. "People have been thinking about removing my dad from office. Demoting his Auror status at least, putting him in a different, less important department."

"Why? I thought your dad was doing fine. He hasn't had much negative press lately at all, which is surprising, being Ron Weasley and all."

"Some people have been saying the only reason he has the position of Elite Auror is because of Uncle Harry and my mom. I mean, it's not entirely untrue. They did help him. But he earned it, and we know he did, and it's just so awful people would try to take that away from him to fulfill their own age-old grudges from twenty years ago."

Frustrated, Rose begins to twiddle her fingers. Her nails are painted a chipping sheer coat of navy, and they shine under the afternoon haze.

"I'm guessing Fabian's father is leading this all?" Scorpius asks hesitantly.

"Yeah, Blaise Zabini disagrees with everything the Ministry does. Mostly because my mom is minister."

"That's a lot to take in."

"Yeah, it is." Rose looks up from her fingers and into his eyes. They're a certain shade of grey, not so much stormy as they are incomprehensible. They resemble the haze of the weather, the gray clouds floating in a thick mist, giving Rose the feeling of submerging under water.

"Think you'll be okay?" Scorpius asks.

"Why would I be okay? My father might lose his job."

"There's always some part of you that knows things will be okay. Like my mother, when she passed away three years ago. I was tired and grieving, but I felt, in some place in my chest, it would be okay. Because yes, everything might feel pointless, and yes, the world could be going to bollocks, but as long as that feeling is there, you'll be okay.

"Think of it as a part of your brain trying to reassure you. It may be freaking out, but as long as you're conscious things aren't entirely awful, you'll pull through. Be okay, in the end."

Rose stares at the strand of his hair that had come loose from it's typical gelled back fashion, coming to hang softly in front of his eyes. He has strong features, she notices. Pointy, actually. He's got this perfectly ridged nose, with pink lips and a heart shaped chin. Feminine, almost, if not for the steady set of his brow and the sharp edges of his jaw. High cheekbones, thin fingers, Malfoy reminds her of a prince.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm okay, if you put it that way," says Rose.

His hand clutches the grass and the tree roots they're sitting on. In an act of third year childishness, she puts her hand atop his. His face goes a bit red. Hers goes a bit redder. For a few moments, she forgets she has a boyfriend.

"I'm glad you're going to be okay," he says.

And then she sees an image of Lysander in her head, smiling at her, sitting with her at this very tree. She retracts her hand.

"I'm sorry about your mom, by the way. It's been ages, but I never directly spoke to you about it. It must've been hard."

"Yeah, it was hard. I loved her a lot. Father loved her too. But what's happened has happened, and I'm okay now."

"We're going to be okay together," she says.

"Exactly, Weasley. You've caught on quickly."

Rose laughs, a real laugh with all her teeth. They shine white against her blood red lips. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the tree trunk.

"Well that was nice of you to listen to my woes, Malfoy. I wasn't aware you had a heart."

He snorts. "It's fine. I knew you needed it. Your face said it all, no questions asked."

"Hey, what do you mean by that?" she says, mock hurt. He stands up and offers her a hand, lifting her to her feet. Her robes are wrinkled now, the Gryffindor red now a much deeper, dirtier shade of burgundy.

"I mean the bags under your eyes, Weasley. And the way you fell asleep halfway through Potions and totally destroyed our gurdyroot."

They begin walking towards the middle of the pitch, Rose's book still in her hand. As they walk and playfully bicker, they eventually comes to a stop when they approach Scorpius's broom, thrown sloppily in the grass.

"Really Weasley, tell me when you need to get something off your chest. I'm here to listen. I'm a therapeutic genius, if you haven't noticed."

"Definitely," she says. It's her turn to snort. But her face turns serious, and her expression becomes as vulnerable and honest as his. "I'm glad we talked. We should talk more often, outside of Potions."

He doesn't reply for a moment, just smiles. He likes looking at the curve of her button nose, at her wide blue eyes and long red lashes.

"But I love our deep and meaningful conversations about lacewing flies, Weasley. You couldn't possibly deprive me of that."

"Of course, forgive me," she teases. It's quiet again. They stare at each other with a look like longing before Rose speaks once again, biting her lip as she does.

"Well, I've got to go. I told Kelsey I'd meet her in the common room to help her with Transfiguration, and I'm fairly sure I'm late."

"Anything else you want to get off your chest before you leave?"

"No, nothing at all," she replies. "You've cured me of all my grievances."

But her hand clenches around her book a little tighter, just barely, where you'd have to use a magnifying glass to see the whitening of her knuckles, the firmness of her grasp. He doesn't notice, though, and lets out a small laugh (and a charming one at that). Rose can't help but look into his eyes again.

"See you then, Weasley. Tell Kelsey I hope she aces that test."

"I will," says Rose, and she begins to walk away, smiling and not turning back. In her hand, the book reads How To Break Up With a Wizard In Three Easy Steps. Nothing else to get off her chest, nothing at all.

Her mother likes to send moving picture letters from time to time, showing short films of her just dusting the house or gardening in their backyard. It's never all too exciting, but she hopes they make her daughter feel as if she were home.

Kelsey Bones comes from a small family, with not all too many relatives, where her mother lives alone in a cottage by the sea. She knows her mother gets lonely, so Kelsey comes home during the holidays. Each Christmas, she and her mum play jazz music on repeat, listening to the tumultuous keys of the saxophones and clarinets. Her dad died a year after she was born, killed by a group of former Death Eaters who had risen up again, and her mother was left to raise Kelsey herself at the age of nineteen.

Today, her mother has sent her an image of her washing the dishes. Her dirty blond hair is tied up in a messy bun, the loose strands framing her face in perfect curves. Kelsey has been told she looks just like her mother, with the same blonde hair and green eyes.

She watches the image move over and over again, repeating itself after the completion of each loop, and she is buried in her own mind.

There aren't many people in the common room today, partially why Kelsey chose to sit there. She doesn't like loud crowds, and the common room is usually full of them, everyone roaring with laughter and the Gryffindor spirit. But today, everyone (besides a few handfuls of first and second years) are out in Hogsmeade, and Kelsey is given the opportunity to lounge about, letter in hand.

All of a sudden, Anika Thomas enters the common room, snapping Kelsey out of her trance.

"I saw Rose with Malfoy out by the pitch. Should I think much of it?"

Kelsey puts the letter on the table, the picture still open and looping. She regains her composure, smoothing her robes as soon as alerted of her company. She snorts.

"What were you doing out by the pitch? There's no practice today, I'm sure."

"I wanted to go for a morning fly."

"Really."

"Alright fine, James Potter stood me up on our Hogsmeade date today. I mean, I expected it, but still, it hurt."

"So you were at the pitch, why exactly?"

"I came to charm his broom. Nothing serious, just so that right after he catches the snitch and the game is secured in our favor, his trousers fall off in the middle of the pitch."

"Impressive."

"I know." Anika twirls one of her curly black strands of hair around her finger. "As for Malfoy, I repeat myself- him and Rose. Think much of it?"

"Weren't you into James half a minute ago?"

"Yes, but there's always room in my heart for Scorpius, you've got understand that. It's like, James had a quarter of my heart, but Scorpius gets the other half. And of course, the last quarter is for Perry, the lead singer of the The Vampire Vexors. God, Perry is beautiful."

Anikia looks into the firepit with dreamy eyes before facing Kelsey again. "I'm repeating myself for the last time now, Kelsey Bones. What's going on with Malfoy and Weasley, hn?"

"Honestly, probably nothing. You're much too protective of him, you know. You need to move on. Besides, I doubt he'd date someone from Gryffindor anyway."

Anika frowns slightly but waves it off. "Well, he seemed interested in Rose."

"To you, he seems interested in everybody. Plus, Rose is with Scamander. You know that."

Anika ignores her comment and continues to rant. "I heard she stormed out on him in Hogsmeade this morning, in the middle of the Three Broomsticks, too. Fabian Zabini told me."

"Zabini? Who the hell trusts Zabini?"

Anika gives an offended huff. "He's not entirely full of shit, you know. The boy tells the truth from time to time."

It's Kelsey's turn to laugh. Her blonde ringlets bounce by her ears with each echo of her laughter.

"He's friends with Malfoy, too, so I think maybe he can set us up," says Anika. "God, Malfoy wore his hair in this perfect little parting today…" she trails off, daydreaming.

"Head out of the clouds, Thomas," says Kelsey. "He's not someone you want to be with, at least not like that."

Rose enters the common room, her hair frazzled by the wind.

"I'm here!" Rose announces. Kelsey turns to face her. She purses her lips in thought.

"Rose would agree, wouldn't she?" says Kelsey.

"Agree with what?"

"That Malfoy is not the dateable type."

Rose stiffens. "Why would you say that?"

"Are you all so clueless? Basically," Kelsey explains, "Anika was considering Malfoy as a new lover-"

"Shut up. you shite-"

"And I was trying to explain to her as to why that wouldn't be a good idea, but it seems you don't get it either."

Rose pauses, her brows furrowing. She takes a seat across from Anika and Kelsey, the chess table separating the girls. In her peripheral view, she sees a wizard knight smashing upon a pawn, sending him scattering across the board.

"So, then why isn't he the dateable type?" Rose says.

Kelsey leans forward in her seat. "Because he's a prude, for one. He doesn't believe in kissing in public, or showing any sort of public affection. If rumor hadn't spread that he'd slept with Marla Davies last year, I'd say he was gay."

Anika seems disgruntled, but Rose merely laughs.

"He's a snob as well. His family comes from old money, and you know, those kinds of people. They've got as much gold as they've got blood on their hands, and Malfoy can't tolerate the idea of hand me down robes, if you haven't noticed. He flinched when he had to borrow my old quill after losing his, during the History of Magic exam last year. He wasn't used to barn owl feathers and promptly dropped my quill after seeing dirt on it's tip."

"What do you have against Malfoy, hn?" Anika probes. "You seem awfully irritated by the mere mentioning of his name, Kelsey darling. What'd the poor bloke do to you?"

"It's not all him, it's partially Zabini. Anyone who associates with Zabini is a lowly tosser by default," Kelsey says curtly. Rose smiles a bit but doesn't seem to be fully invested in the subject of the conversation. Part of her looks like she just wants to float away.

"Sure," says Anika. "Think what you want. He's still boyfriend material to me, I'd snog him anyday, with those grey eyes of his…"

Kelsey rolls her eyes. "At least I'll never have to worry about you, Rose. You've got Scamander, a decent and respectable sort of bloke. If only Anika had half your good sense."

"Ha, ha, Bones," Anika mocks. "You're hilarious. My good sense happens to be entirely intact."

Rose stands abruptly, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, Scamander, of course. He's a great bloke. Kelsey, did you still need help with Transfiguration, or are you alright?"

"Oh, I've got a few questions here and there, but-"

"Okay, let's work on that," Rose says with forced cheer. "I'll grab my books."

She heads up the staircase in a rush, her footsteps pounding on each step. Anika frowns.

"What's up with her?"

James Potter has had many girlfriends within his seventeen years of life, and is often compared to his grandfather for being a content prankster and serial dater. It'd be safe to say he seems to have a bit of a mean streak in him, for he's never shown much pity in breaking hearts. However, he isn't exactly a mean bloke.

He never means to hurt them, really, he doesn't. He just wants to have fun, and that inconsideration has definitely led him to having some problems. Like, leaving his date stranded at a party because he wants to see how many shots he can drink in an hour. Or, in this case, ditching a date after asking them to Hogsmeade because he wanted to spy on his little brother.

In his defense, he had only ditched Anika Thomas because his father had asked him to see what his sister, Lily, had been up to for these past few weeks. She'd been acting strange, always ducking past questions and giving vague descriptions about where she'd gone without notifying anyone else. Ginny noticed she'd been acting a bit odd with her letters, not replying as frequently as she used to, and she decided to send out James, her oldest child, to see just what Lily had been getting herself into.

James finds Lily at Borgin and Burkes in a matter of minutes.

"Lil?"

Lily is a stunningly gorgeous young girl with deep red hair, the kind the color of fresh blood after you've pricked your finger, or of a fresh beet served during Christmas Eve. It's got violet undertones to it, a glimmering burgundy. Lily wears Gryffindor robes decorated with a lace trim she added herself, and her nails are painted the same color as her hair.

When she turns around, her skin is pale and her hands are clammy. Her typically beautiful hair is thick with grease. As she sees James, her mouth opens by the tiniest fraction.

"James? What are you doing here?"

"More like what are you doing here, sis? And I tailed you here. Mom's orders."

Lily bites her lip, leaning against the shop window. They aren't actually inside the shop- no, Theo Nott, the owner scares them a bit too much- but they're leaning against one of it's brick columns, Lily's body squished against it in an attempt to keep her body as far from James as possible. He's leaning towards her in a suspicious, tell me all you know sort of manner, his glasses hanging off his crooked nose.

"I'm not doing anything much. I just wanted to see what this part of Hogsmeade was like, that's all. Cousin Louis said it'd be fun."

James leans in closer, his breath hitting Lily full on in the face.

"Sure."

"You smell like meatloaf, and it's disgusting."

"It was delicious. I smell delicious."

James pushes the glasses back up his nose, getting out of Lily's personal space.

"You're thirteen, Lil. You can't come to this part of Hogsmeade without at least a few friends to have your back. There are some weird people around here."

"Yeah, I know. Come on, dear brother. Let's go back to the castle. There's nothing here anyway." Lly makes an attempt to tug him away from the shop. He doesn't move.

"Dear brother, am I now?"

"Yes, dearest brother. Let's go."

Lily tugs on her brother's hand but he refuses to budge.

"Lil, no one comes down to Borgin and Burkes with the pure intention of browsing around. You're here for something, aren't you?"

"No James, I'm really not-"

"So I suppose you decided to come here alone for absolutely no good reason?"

"Louis said there was a talking head, that's it, really. I've always wanted to see a talking head, you see."

"You would've talked to Nearly Headless Nick if you wanted to see a talking head, Lily."

"He's not even fully headless, James, it kills the fun of it."

"So you really did just want to see a head? You came all the way here and left all your friends in Wizard Wheezes to see a head? Because Louis told you it would be fun?"

"Yes."

"Pinky promise?"

Lily looks repulsed. "What?"

"You've got to pinky promise me, Lils."

"James, you're ridiculous."

"Well, you want to get back to the castle, don't you?" James raises an eyebrow expectantly. "So, go on." James extends his pinky towards Lily. He's got long, bony fingers, tan and twig-like. Unknown to most, James is a quite accomplished piano player.

It's Lily's turn to raise a brow. She keeps her arms to her sides.

"By not promising me, you're guilty by default. Do you have something to hide, little sister?"

Staring at his outstretched pinky, Lily finally decides to intertwine his long pinky with her petite, paler one.

"There we go, Lil." James smiles. Lily rolls her eyes.

"Can we leave now? Actually, let stop by Honeydukes first-"

"Ah yes, we must go for the chocolate-"

"The best treat is obviously the sugar quills, James-"

"Sugar quills? Over fudge? You've ought to see Madam Bell, I don't think you're feeling quite right…"

The two continue to bicker back and forth as they walk down the street, back to the castle. For now, James writes home that everything is just fine. Ginny is pleased. She sends them her love and a bowl of treacle tart. The incident is not brought back up again till several months later.

Fabian Zabini doesn't have many friends. He has three, to be exact: Scorpius Malfoy, Adeline Nott, and Albus Potter. And to be entirely honest, even that's pushing it a little- Albus doesn't so much like his presence as tolerate it for Scorpius's sake.

It has something to do with his family history, but something more to do with him being a bit of an arse. He's the only bloke in the school who's had as many girlfriends as James Potter Jr., and he's not nearly as nice about dumping them as James is. He was shamed for his family's past while growing up, but he did not grow older to be insecure and withdrawn like Scorpius- instead he became cold, cruel, and generally unsympathetic.

He spends most of his time in the Slytherin common room playing wizard chess with Albus, or hanging out on the pitch with Adeline and Scorpius. He and Adeline's relationship is of a very on-and-off again nature, giving him the time to date around between intervals of their constant breakups. At the moment, they are very much together, but he himself knows it'll only last one or two weeks before they find themselves in some sort of spat again.

At the moment, Fabian is meeting Adeline for some drinks at the Three Broomsticks. Scorpius ditched him hours ago to go chasing after the supposed love of his life, Rose Weasley. Admittedly, the Weasley girls were rather pretty, in that fierce sort of way. Had Lily been a bit older, Fabian would've given her a shot. Of course, Albus would hex him to bits and pieces, but he's sure it would be worth it.

"Fabian!"

Fabian turns his head to see Adeline has arrived with two butterbeers in her hands. Her chestnut hair is tucked into a neat bun onto the back of her head, her robes unwrinkled and ironed crisp, alike to Zabini;s. The Slytherin green is beautiful against her pale white skin.

She slides into the booth across from him, and frowns when he rubs his eyes.

"You alright?" she asks, pushing a cup towards him.

"Tired, that's all. I've been here for a few hours, placing bets on the trading cards with the fourth years over in the corner. They couldn't pay me off in cash, so I've received about a two years supply of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Awful things really. Can you believe there's one flavored like feet?"

Zabini pulls out a huge supply of the boxed candy out of his robes pocket and places them on the table. Adeline eyes them distastefully.

"Where's Malfoy?"

Zabini snorts. "I've been abandoned for a Weasley. He took off only a few minutes after he saw the bird leave the place."

"Weasley? As in Rose Weasley? Isn't she with that Scamander bloke?"

Zabini leans his head on his elbow, already looking rather bored with the conversation. "She is."

"And Scorpius is still going after her."

"Well, yes."

Zabini juts his thumb to the most isolated corner of the pub, where Lysander Scamander sits alone with two empty cups of butterbeer he had most likely consumed all by himself.

"Scamander has been sitting here since she left as well. I may have provoked him a bit. He took to chugging butterbeer like it was firewhiskey."

"What'd you say to provoke him?"

"The truth."

"Fabian."

Fabian shrugs. "Trust me, I didn't mean to provoke him. He just didn't answer my question right away, and that rather pissed me off, so I got under his skin a little till his body's nervous tics gave it away."

"Gave what away?"

"The evidence of his failed relationship."

Adeline rolls her eyes. Zabini lays back in his seat. He really doesn't know why they date sometimes, because they rarely show any physical affection besides a few shags here and there, or a kiss when she comes over to his parent's house over the holidays. It's more of an exasperated friendship between two attractive, generally disliked human beings.

"You can't just do that, Fabian. Have you ever wondered why the school hates us?"

"Because our parents tried to murder theirs and take over the world nineteen years ago?"

"Well, yes, that. But also because we're mean."

"Mean. Really. I hadn't noticed."

Adeline has begun to get tired of him already, he can see it. She keeps playing with a loose strand of hair, not meeting his eye. It's a sign she's going to lose her temper, and soon. Quickly, Fabian tries to regain her good graces.

"Adeline, darling, don't let me get under your skin. Please, continue."

Adeline sighs but drops the strand of hair. Thank god. Last time they had argued in the Three Broomsticks, she had poured two whole glasses of butterbeer on top of his head. The stickiness hadn't come out of his robes for weeks, and so he had to order whole new ones. Tons of galleons, down the drain.

"As I said, Fabian, we're mean. Like when Edmund Corner got his hair cut. I called him a bald looking chimpanzee and you told him you'd rather Avada yourself then look at him another minute. Davies said he saw Corner crying in the boy's bathroom. Crying, Fabian."

"Didn't he call you a Death Eater whore last year? Wasn't it coming to him?"

"Everyone calls me that. You know who our parents are. It doesn't matter, okay?"

Fabian sneers. His lip twitches, but he tells himself to calm down,and automatically, he does.

"It's okay? He can just call you that because of something our parents did nineteen years ago? You're my girlfriend. If you let yourself get called shite like that, it'll stick, and I won't deal with it. I can and will dump you, Adeline. Possibly for someone with at least an ounce of respect."

And he's done it. Adeline rises quickly, making a move to leave. If he was any smarter, he would have left it at that. But he's not thinking straight right now- he never is when people mention his parents.

"Go on then, leave! Happily allow your reputation to be soiled even farther than it already is. Then again, considering your father owns a crappy, knock-off dark magic shop, you don't have much to lose!"

Now he's really done it. Adeline turns on her heel, grabs her butterbeer in her left hand, his in her right, and dumps them both on Fabian's head. Well, shite.

His robes are now drenched, although he's finally decided to close his mouth. That would've been a smart thing to do a good five minutes ago. But Adeline isn't done. She grabs a fistful of the Bertie Bott's, thrusts her hand into the container, and throws a large handful of the beans at Zabini's body with enough force to leave little bruises along his chest the next day.

"Fuck you, Zabini."

Adeline leaves the pub with a slam of the door. Zabini is silent. The pub is silent. All eyes are on him, and no one moves an inch.

"I believe we're done here," Zabini says, using his wand to clean up the mess of butterbeer and jelly beans. For some reason, cleaning charms don't seem to fully remove the stickiness of butterbeer off silk robes. It's a shame.

The bar goes back to it's typical chatter, with a few yells of what'd he do to insult her this time? and Zabini is generally just an arse, it's only to be expected. The barmaid, Kate, walks over to him. She uses her wand to help him clean up some more of the mess. In the corner of his eye, Zabini sees Lysander staring at his jellybean covered robes, doubled over in laughter.

"You two break up again?" Kate asks, cleaning the table.

"As expected, yes." Zabini pauses. He and Adeline will probably be broken up for another week or so, he estimates. That's surely enough time for a short fling with the pretty barmaid. He smiles. Kate, while not nearly as beautiful and elegant as Adeline, is cute in that mousy, reserved sort of way. He puts his hand along her shoulder. The Zabini household ring gleams along his finger.

"Hey, Kate, how would you like to sit and chat for a little while?"