An Unwelcome Interruption
September brought back what used to be Rose Weasley's favorite thing in the world; school.
When she was at the tender age of eleven, and entered those double doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she knew immediately that she had fallen in love. Rose had adored every bit of Hogwarts. From the stone bricks that made up the walls, to the flagstones that tiled the floor; from the transparent house ghosts that glided to and fro, to the house-elves that tidied their dorms (she got that bit from her mother); from the creaking iron gates with the flying pig figures, to the billowing school flags waving cheerfully over the Astronomy tower.
Rose had loved the shiny, polished hourglasses mounted in the Great Hall, and she loved them even more when she caused a few rubies to trickle down into Gryffindor's stash. She had loved the old library, with its wooden bookcases and the creaking spins of its age-worn, yellowing books. Rose had loved the Forbidden Forest and the secrets and mysteries it hid behind its dark veil of branches and foliage.
She had even loved the Quidditch pitch, though she couldn't begin to comprehend the point of the sport that the rest of her family was so crazy about. Rose certainly wasn't a bad flyer, as she proved the one time she had ever bothered to so much as get on a broom (first year flying class), but she considered flying a waste of time. ("Why fly when you can just use the Floo or a Portkey?")
And Rose's favorite. Her retreat, her place to find peace in the middle of all the chaos of the day. Her wonderful shady oak tree by the Black Lake.
But that was all before. Those beautiful, innocent, days. Before her problems all started. Before Hogwarts became a thing that Rose dreaded and feared down to the very marrow of her frail bones.
Scorpius Malfoy hated school. Period.
It was a tremendous waste of time, especially on a person like him. It was obvious; to his parents, to his teachers, to himself, that he was about as eager to learn as a troll. His first year was like living in hell. After three days of sitting in classes, listening to his teachers spew out the most boring and useless things, like how to flick your wand this way and not that, he was convinced that Hogwarts was the sorriest excuse of a school and decided not to bother with classes. After dealing with him for five years, his professors were used to him skiving off all his classes and had learned, by now, that it was useless trying to talk him out of it. They didn't even bother to give him detentions anymore.
Not that Scorpius was thick or stupid or couldn't catch up; in fact, it was the complete opposite. Scorpius was way ahead of his classmates. From age six, he had been teaching himself spells out of books found in his dad's immense library. The thing was, he was so ahead, he was bored out of his mind. The classes were moving much to slowly for his taste; too much of note-taking and not enough practical action. And Hogwarts wouldn't teach them anything exciting.
It was a bit sick, but Scorpius was strangely fascinated with Dark magic. He even admitted to himself that he wouldn't mind trying out an Unforgivable Curse sometime or other - on an insect, of course. There was just something so forbidden about the Dark Arts - he didn't want to learn about them so he could harm others, of course, but he felt attracted to them in the same, odd way that so many Muggles were intrigued by the event known as the Holocaust. Some things were just so pure evil that they were glamorous.
During a few of those hour-long blocks of skipped classes, Scorpius would find himself in the Room of Requirement, transformed into a large, Roman-styled dueling arena. There he would test out new jinxes he had learned - and some invented - on poor unsuspecting mannequins that were charmed to be animated. This is where he found himself on the afternoon of the first day back at school.
"Acupunct!" A dozen or so holes punctured the cloth cover of the stuffed mannequin, as if twenty needles had flown straight into its chest.
Scorpius swore. For the past two hours, he had been trying to refine his curse. Wasn't there any way he could control the concentration of the punctures? An actual attack like the one he had just issued would cause some discomfort, pain, of course, and some bleeding, but it wasn't anything fatal or even disabling. If he could just create a higher concentration targeted on one area of the body. . . .
He had tried everything. Every wand movement, every incantation pronunciation, eye control, and nothing ever brought the punctures closer together.
What if - Scorpius blinked - what if he combined his spell with another incantation. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Because he was a numskull, that's why.
At the moment, he couldn't think of any concentration spell, but he could try giving the spell a specific target instead of just pointing his wand at the vague area he wanted the punctures to appear. A specific target . . . .like the eye.
"Conjunctivitis acup -"
Rose walked purposefully down the seventh-floor corridor, glancing back warily over her shoulder to make sure no one was following her. When she finally came to the tapestry of trolls in ballet slippers, she breathed a sigh of relief she had been holding in all day.
Well, today hadn't been as bad as she'd expected. Nothing much had happened today. Well, except -
Rose fingered her shoulder lightly, and winced. But it could've been worse. Besides that small incident at breakfast, she had gone virtually unseen through the halls, only noticed by her family. That was good. Rose would much rather be invisible than noticed. Two years ago, it would've been the complete opposite.
So it was a good start. Overall. Rose glanced up with a determination at the ridiculous tapestry and clenched her jaw. Now it was time to start her self-teaching plan. After what had happened last year, she had promised herself never to get herself stuck in a situation like that again. And this is how she would ensure it.
She paced back and forth in front of the tapestry. What would she ask for?
I need a place to practice - I need a place to practice combat and dueling, only I need to ensure that I'm safe the whole time.
I need a place to practice combat and dueling, only I need to ensure that I'm safe the whole time.
I need a place to practice combat and dueling, only I need to ensure that I'm safe the whole time.
Rose whipped around, and to her satisfaction, two large oak doors awaited her at the opposite wall. She tried pushing on them, but surprisingly, the doors wouldn't budge. Rose tried again, but they still wouldn't open. Hm.
Rose examined the plain wood doors for a door handle, but none were to be found.
Her heart raced as she heard steps around the corner. They were growing louder by the second. She could make out voices now; horribly familiar voices, laughing menacingly and talking brusquely. Oh no. It was them.
Rose was desperate. She rammed herself against the door and it gave way this time. She barreled in, only to be greeted by a startling shout.
"WEASLEY!" A furious voice shook the room.
Rose gasped as she straightened and realized the dueling arena she had requested was already occupied by someone. A certain blonde-haired, gray-eyed someone, who currently had their wand thrust angrily in her direction. "M - Malfoy?!" She said, shocked. "What in blazes are you doing in here?"
"If I may ask you the same question, you blood-traitor filth!" Scorpius snarled, crossing the distance between the two and roughly backing Rose against a wall with his wand poised at her throat.
Rose quailed in fear. She had heard that Scorpius Malfoy was a dangerous and disturbed child. "I was just - I -"
What was she doing? She was being weak, allowing herself to be a victim! This was exactly what she'd been trying to fix.
Rose straightened and looked Scorpius square in the eye and tilted her chin up. "Mr. Malfoy," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I do not appreciate the tone of voice you're using with me." Rose said coldly. Or at least tried to.
"Get out!" He tossed her towards the door, jerking her shoulder painfully.
"Bloody - !" Rose used a few choice words and rubbed her shoulder. "Watch it!"
"Oh, is poor wittle Rosie-poo hurt now?" Scorpius mocked disdainfully. "What a child. I'm not a bloody babysitter, you know. So you can leave. Now." He said threateningly.
Rose gritted her teeth. She would rather die than face what awaited her outside of the door. "I. Can't." She hissed, still clutching her shoulder.
"What's wrong with you?" Scorpius asked in disgust. "Can't you see you're kind of interrupting something right now and I really want you to get your fucking brown nose out of my business?"
"I told you." Rose said flatly. "I can't leave."
Scorpius placed his wand against her temple. "I'm giving you three seconds, you bitch. Three - two -"
Rose's bottom lip trembled, and she bit down on it hard. "Not now." She pleaded softly. "Please, Malfoy. For once in your life, be humane, will you?"
Scorpius gave her a funny look. "Merlin's sake, what are you on about, Weasley? Something scary looming behind those doors?" He taunted hatefully.
"No! Yes. Maybe." Rose said, massaging her aching shoulder.
"What the hell is wrong with your shoulder? Can't stand any pain, can you? Daughter of Harry Potter's best friends, the heroes of the Wizarding World, a Gryffindor, and you can't even take - "
"Shut up Malfoy."
"I'm sorry?" Malfoy gave her an icy glare.
"I said shut the fuck up, Malfoy!" Rose whipped out her wand and positioned it at Malfoy's pale neck before Scorpius could do anything.
Scorpius glanced at Rose's wand for a moment, debated internally, then slowly let his own wand down. Rose mirrored him warily.
"Alright. Alright." Scorpius backed up. "You can stay, even though its highly annoying to be in the company of you Weasley scum." He spat. "Though I am curious, what are you hiding -"
"Shhh!" Rose said frantically.
"What's wron -"
"Silencio." Rose flicked her wand.
Malfoy looked at her questioningly, temporarily muted. Was she crazy? She however, was paying no attention to him. Her eyes were locked on the door. They were wide with fear.
Scorpius heard footsteps outside. And voices of his own housemates.
"Where is she?"
"I swear I saw her coming up these stairs."
"She's got to be around here somewhere."
"Probably looking for somewhere to hide." Someone laughed raucously.
"Can't wait until we find her. I've been wanting to practice the Sectumsempra spell on somebody."
Besides him, Scorpius felt Rose shiver.
"Li'l squirt. Poor girl must be miserable from the thought of spending a year with us."
"Oh please, she was miserable already. Never had any friends, has she?" Another round of laughs.
Scorpius moved slightly towards the door as the voices started fading. "Damn, if we can't find her . . . ."
"We will, don't worry, Ivy."
"We were nice to her today, weren't we?"
"Barely laid a hand on her - except for that thing at breakfast of course."
"But that was barely anything!"
"I was trying to aim for her head but I got her shoulder instead."
The voices were now too far away to distinguish. Scorpius turned back towards Rose, now understanding. He moved slowly towards her, and carefully pulled on her school jumper to reveal a slender shoulder.
Rose gasped and slapped his hand away, moving back from him. She tugged her jumper back over, but not before Scorpius could see the huge black and blue bruise.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then undid the silencing spell with his own wand, and opened his mouth once more.
"Rose Weasley," He smirked, "Are you being . . . . bullied?"
