A/N: Hello! Welcome to Nox Aeterna. I'm not planning on having Author's Notes at the beginning of every chapter, as I feel it breaks up the flow of the story a bit, so I figured I'd do one here at the beginning. For those of you who've read LaF, thanks for coming back! I want to warn you that this story will be fairly different - less fluff, more plot-driven storyline - but hopefully you'll all enjoy it. I've got the story mapped out and the first six or so chapters completed, and let me tell ya, it's a bit of a doozy. Hopefully you'll join me in this journey to complete it.

This is written entirely in cannon following The Cursed Child. While there were some parts of the script I may not have been entirely thrilled with, I have to respect JKR's artistic license, and I really wanted to write a story in cannon that remained a Scorose story at its core. THAT BEING SAID, I feel like Jo gave us a lot to play with as far as the three main characters go. This means that, yes, they all have massive character flaws and make mistakes and are not perfect, etc, etc, and so on and so forth. This is the point of my story. These are children of war heroes who are struggling to find their own identities among their parents' legacies.

If you're still with me, thank you. I've had a lot of fun writing this story, and I hope you enjoy it. This first chapter is all in Rose's POV, but from here on out, it'll jump a bit between characters. I always love to hear what you think, be it the good, the bad, or the ugly, so please take the time to leave me a comment :)

-md xx

Rated M for language, violence (upcoming) and mild sexual situations (also upcoming.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the other characters, plots, places, etc. that you may recognise. I am making no money from this, and get paid only in the satisfaction of the occasional nice reader review.


Chapter One:

Rose


Rose Granger-Weasley strode down Diagon Alley as defiantly as she could, given that it wasn't yet gone ten, she was still wearing her dress from the night before, and was blatantly nursing a killer hangover. A young mother gave her a scathingly dirty look before ushering her child past, and Rose rolled her eyes skyward, internally praying that there were no Daily Prophet reporters about. It was one thing to make a public walk of shame, but quite another to have it broadcasted to the entire wizarding world. Including Rose's own busybody family.

The sunlight blinded her, and she squinted against its harsh rays as she ducked inside a café just off the high street, her too-tall heels teetering precariously on the cobbled steps. When her eyes adjusted to the light inside the shop, she ordered an extra-large pumpkin juice with a hangover potion, and plopped herself into a seat by the window next to a pretty blonde girl, whose nose wrinkled with distaste when she sat.

"You look like shit," Charlotte Kemp said, eyeing her friend.

"Cheers" Rose replied scratchily, downing her potion in one go.

Immediately her head felt lighter, and she closed her eyes, sinking back against the rather hard-backed chair she sat in.

Charlotte shook her head, smiling despite herself, and picked an invisible piece of fuzz off of her pale pink jumper. "Where did you end up going last night?" she asked lightly.

"Started off at the Leaky - ended up in Rhys Selwyn's bed," Rose enjoyed a moment of watching her friend squirm. "The usual."

Charlotte's mouth drew into a hard line, as if biting back a comment or two. All she said though, was "Rhys Selwyn is a prick."

Rose nodded solemnly, fighting a twitch of a smile. "He is."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and sighed, but dropped the matter, for which Rose was grateful. Her friend sipped her tea for a moment, while Rose picked at a bit of her nail varnish. She flicked one large bit of black polish on the floor, and Charlotte nervously smoothed her blonde hair, as if the very sight of Rose's unsightly chipped nails offended her. Rose bit her lip, stopping herself from mentioning the entire year of school Charlotte had worn horrible blue sparkly eyeliner.

"So, you asked me to come?" Rose prompted, wondering idly why she wasn't back in her own bed at the moment.

"Yes," Charlotte's face brightened, and for a moment, she looked again like the innocent, sweet girl that Rose had known through school. There was a gentle tug on her heartstrings as she recalled the feeling of sharing a dormitory with her best friends, carefree and innocent.

"Demetrius proposed," said Charlotte excitedly, and the warmth in Rose's chest went out like a snuffed candle. A buzzing began in her ears, and her skimpy dress felt suddenly too tight, constricting. There was a beat before she realised her friend was waiting for her to reply.

"That's... that's great news," she said, hoping to Merlin her voice wouldn't crack. "I'm so happy for you, both of you..."

Charlotte frowned, a little wrinkle appearing in her brow. "Rosie," she said, clasping her friend's hand, "I'm sorry - I don't mean to overshadow your problems with my happiness-"

"Don't be silly," Rose countered quickly, not ready to go down that road again. "This is about you and your big news, don't worry about me."

Charlotte had never been good at reading signals. "Yes, but it's only been six months since Toby," she said, in a voice she clearly believed was soothing, but had Rose gritting her teeth.

"Bugger Toby."

"We can," Charlotte said, waving a hand airily, "at least agree on that."

"I am really happy for you, Char," Rose said, genuinely as she could muster. Her chest still felt tight, but the smile on her friend's face at least partially thawed a chunk of her frozen heart.

"You'll be my maid of honour, won't you?" Charlotte asked earnestly, and Rose gave a nervous laugh.

"Red hair clashes with nearly every dress robe colour..." she began to protest.

"I really want you to," Charlotte insisted. "I've already asked Marjorie and Em to be bridesmaids as well, now I just need you to say yes."

There was nothing else she could do. "Yes, of course," Rose said.

She swallowed down the pumpkin juice that threatened to resurface and forced herself to smile for the sake of her oldest friend.

"Great," said Charlotte, sitting up straighter and grabbing a hold of Rose's hand, squeezing it excitedly.

Rose forced a smile back, feeling like the worst friend in the world.


"You look like shit," Rose heard for the second time that day.

Rose dropped her bag on the floor, not bothering to turn around to greet the intruder in her home. Her father would chastise her for being so cavalier, but this was a voice she'd known all her life. Besides, the wards around her flat would surely stop any unwanted intruders.

"Fuck off out of my flat, you git." She told Albus, stopping by the hallway mirror to assess just how bad she actually did look. Rose grimaced. He wasn't wrong. She unceremoniously dropped her bag below the mirror and kicked off her heels, wiggling her toes as she relished the feeling of freedom before she turned to her cousin.

Albus, for his part, gave a deep chuckle, using the tip of his wand to light the fag that dangled from his lips as he flipped through Rose's copy of the Prophet, looking for all the world at home at her kitchen table.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Rose asked, stealing the cigarette from his lips and giving it a long, deep drag, her eyes closing in bliss.

"Fancied a change of scene," he said, not meeting her eyes.

Rose frowned, a wrinkle marring her freckled forehead, and pursed her lips at her cousin. Albus sighed deeply, rolling his green eyes dramatically. "All right," he shot a pained look at Rose. "Helena is at my flat."

"Helena...?"

"You know, Ravenclaw House? She was the year below us? Big..." he made a rude gesture in front of his chest, and Rose gave a short bark of laughter.

"Yes, I remember." she said quickly, trying to remember when Albus had grown out of his incredibly awkward phase and turned into such a lothario.

"Yeah, well" Al blew a strand of his too-long hair out of his eyes. "She's a bit clingy."

Rose smirked and sat opposite her cousin. He had stopped pretending to read the newspaper, his arms folded across his narrow chest as he appraised her across the table in Rose's cramped kitchen. Albus had always been thin, wiry like his father, but he'd grown into his looks somewhat as he'd aged into his twenties. Still, she'd always see him as the peaky little git she'd grown up with.

They weren't close. They weren't even friends, most of the time. But Rose knew that nobody got her, really knew her the way he did.

"So what, you're just going to hide out here until she goes?" she asked, pinching Albus on his arm so that he yelped and hit her in retaliation. Rose waved her wand lazily in his direction, and he blocked her hex wordlessly.

"I figure she'll get bored soon and leave. Either that, or Scorp'll take pity on her and tell her I'm through with her."

Rose quirked one eyebrow at him. "You always let your boyfriend handle your morning afters?"

"Har har," Al smirked at her in that way that reminded Rose that he'd been a Slytherin. "I'll have you know, I'm very straight."

"Gross."

"Anyway, hark who's talking," he said, waggling his eyebrows as he sat back in his chair and took in her dishevelled appearance. "You look as though you've only just come in from an - ah, interesting night out."

Rose swatted his arm a little too hard to be playful.

"What I do, and who I do it with is none of your concern," she said coolly.

Al looked as if he were going to say something, and then bit his tongue. His smirk turned into a small frown, and he sighed deeply before opening his mouth. Rose tensed, feeling the conversation turn to a place she'd rather it not.

She was spared any awkward heart-to-heart, however, by a sudden gust of flames from her kitchen fireplace. The disheveled blond head of Scorpius Malfoy poked out of the fire.

"Hi, is Al here?" He asked, a little breathlessly. Rose jabbed a thumb over her shoulder and Scorpius' neck twisted around in the flames, so that Albus came into his direct line of vision.

Albus dropped the paper on Rose's lap as he came round the table to kneel before the fireplace.

"Helena gone then?"

Scorpius blew an agitated gust of breath out of his nostrils and glared at Albus through the flames. "I wish you wouldn't leave me to dispose of your sexual conquests," he huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Right mate, sorry, that's the last time, I promise."

Scorpius looked as if he were fighting to stay mad, but gave up and cracked a smile. "Coast is clear. Can you pick up some milk before you get home?"

Rose muttered something about "Al" and "housewife" under her breath just so Albus could hear, and he shot her a quick glare.

"Be right here, mate," he said, thwacking Rose over the head as he left to get to the apparition point.

There was a moment before Rose realized that she was left alone in her kitchen with Scorpius' head still in her fire.

"All right, Rosie?" He said, smirking at her.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," she said, standing up to leave the room. "I'm not in the mood."

"Fair enough," he said, and with laugh, he was gone.

Rose retreated to her bedroom, closed her curtains, and proceeded to sleep away the remainder of the day.


She was awoken by the sound of the floo once more, the crackling from the kitchen echoing around her empty flat. Before Rose could be bothered to stir from her bed, she heard footsteps reverberating through the flat, coming to pause outside of her door.

She could see in the light an unmistakably male form shadowed in the light. It coughed nervously.

"Rose?" The voice called into the room. She came to the door, wiping the sleep from her eyes and blinking at the light from the living room as her eyes adjusted.

"Scorpius?" She frowned as she recognized his unruly mop of blond hair through the darkness, "What are you doing here?" She lit the room with a quick lumos so that she could see him properly.

His eyes glanced downwards, and Rose was suddenly very aware that she was dressed in only an old ratty Cannons shirt she'd nicked off her brother, and a little pair of cheeky underwear. She crossed one long leg over the other, uncharacteristically self conscious, and his eyes followed her movement before they darted back to her face. He was flushed. She raised one eyebrow.

"I - um," he swallowed, "Albus sent me to fetch you. James' birthday party tonight? He thought you'd forgotten."

"Shit," said Rose, who had forgotten.

"I can wait, if you want me to..."

"I'll be just ten minutes" she said, waving her hand at the couch as she gestured for him to sit.

He did so, moving the pile of laundry so that he could sit, and quite nosily glancing around her flat. Rose realized that this was the first time he'd been here, and halfheartedly wished she'd bothered to clean a bit. There was no reason for him to have ever visited her before - if she was barely friendly with Albus, then she was even less so with his roommate and perpetual shadow. He was a bit of an odd duck, Scorpius Malfoy, though he'd always been more than polite to her. He seemed to be taking the rather bizarre situation in stride, however, fiddling with the items on her shelves and pulling out books at random. She watched him for a brief moment through the crack in the doorway, wondering if it'd be rude to ask him to stop touching her personal shit.

"I didn't know you were interested in becoming a healer," he said, peering at a heavy tome Rose instantly recognized.

"I'm... not." She called from her room, pausing as she pulled on a pair of stockings.

He tutted. "You've certainly got a lot of books about medicinal practices for someone who's not interested."

Rose had nothing to say to that, so she changed the subject.

"So why didn't Albus come and fetch me himself?" She asked him as she held up two nearly identical slinky black dresses to her body and looked into her mirror.

"He got called into work - some Mandrake emergency, I guess."

Rose could hear through the open door that he was still rustling around in her things, and huffed out one angry breath. Without answering him, she pulled on the skimpier of the two dresses and stepped out from the bedroom.

He had his back to her, reading an old copy of Witch Weekly that he'd clearly found on her coffee table.

"The writers of this magazine are barmy!" He said, shaking his white-blond head. "Do they really recommend putting heating spells on your socks before having se-"

He'd turned and seen Rose standing in the doorway, her arms crossed as she appraised him.

He smirked.

"I think you're missing a bit of your skirt." He said, staring pointedly.

"Fuck off." She said, glancing in the mirror and waving her wand at her own curly, rather untamable hair. It smoothed itself, just a little, before springing back to its natural state. Rose grimaced.

"You're kind of mean," he said, cocking his head to one side as he looked at her. He was still holding the magazine, and Rose could see the animated photographs doing rather embarrassing things from where she stood. She flicked her wand at it, and it went flying from his hands to land back on the coffee table. His smirk just widened.

"Sorry for going through your things," he said, not seeming sorry at all.

"S'alright," she said, wanting to get him out of her flat before he started rummaging through her knickers drawers, or something equally invasive. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," he said, grabbing his wand from his pocket. "Shall we take the floo?"

Rose, who secretly hated the feeling of apparition, agreed wordlessly, and followed him over to the fireplace. After he'd gone, she grabbed a handful of powder from the pot on her mantle, and stepped into the flames, shouting "The Three Broomsticks!"


The pub was noisy and incredibly crowded by the time Rose and Scorpius arrived. She quickly detached herself from him, aware that their peers were overly nosy and would read too much into their joint arrival.

The place had been done up since Rose'd graduated from Hogwarts. It still retained its old English charm, with the exposed beams and panelled glass windows she remembered, but the inside felt newer, and attracted a trendier crowd. The bar was built of dark wood, lined with several liquors that Rose had never even heard of. Above it, the legendary three broomsticks were tacked upon the wall.

She quickly found Charlotte doing shots of firewhiskey with their friends and old dorm-mates, Marjorie Edwards and Emily Gallagher. When the girls saw her, Emily shoved a shot glass full of the dark, amber liquid into Rose's hands.

"A toast to the bride!" she said, her round face already red from the alcohol she'd consumed.

Rose wrinkled her nose at the taste as it burned its way down her throat.

Marjorie grabbed Rose's hand when she was done coughing. "Char's was just telling us all about the wedding venue," she said, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement.

Rose plastered on her happy face and nodded along.

"We're looking at renting out a castle in Scotland," Charlotte said, her face shiny and pink from the elation and firewhiskey. "The Macmillans apparently have a long-standing tradition of getting married at the family estate on Loch Lomond, but apparently they're having a bit of a keplie infestation, so we're looking at alternative venues."

"It sounds absolutely magical," Em squealed, looking as if she may cry from excitement, or perhaps piss herself. "And you're so lucky to have Demetrius, he really is just such a Prince Charmi-"

"I have to go and find James," Rose said abruptly, and left the table without a look back at what she was sure would be three bewildered faces.

Making her way to the bar was a Herculean task in itself. The place was packed with former classmates and various family members, many of which Rose had absolutely zero desire to talk to. She was just about to make good on her previous statement and actually find James to wish him a happy birthday, when there was a light tap on her shoulder.

Rose turned to find Demetrius Macmillian, Charlotte's fiance and apparent Prince Charming, gazing down at her with a slightly desperate look.

"Can we talk?" he asked, and before Rose could answer, he was dragging her by the arm to a secluded hallway just off the toilets.

Rose snatched her arm back, rubbing the spot where he'd gripped it.

There was a moment where he made a few exasperated huffing sounds while Rose stared bewilderingly at him, before he seemed to be able to speak. His golden hair was coiffed in a perfectly mussed-up way that Rose knew he must've spent ages on to make it look natural. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Demetrius'd always been a real pillock.

"I.. I just wanted to come and say - because Charlotte told me she talked to you this morning-"

"She did. Congratulations." Rose said with little emotion.

"Right, thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "But that's what I wanted to talk about - to make sure you weren't going to..." he trailed off, gesturing weakly at her.

"I'm not going to tell my best friend that I slept with her fiancé, if that's what you're asking," Rose said, her voice hard.

He stared at her for a long moment, then broke into a relieved smile.

"Great," he breathed, apparently satisfied. "That's - that's fantastic news, cheers Rose. You're such a cool bird. I'll catch you later, Weasley." and with a friendly clap on her shoulder, he left her in the dark hall.

Rose leaned up against the wall, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. The chatter from the pub rang in her ears as she steadied herself to rejoin the throng.

"So-" came a voice quite nearby, and Rose jumped, her eyes flying open to see Scorpius Malfoy drying his hands with his wand, clearly having just left the loo. "That was... an enlightening conversation." His face was a blank canvas, but Rose saw a slight twitch to one of his eyes. Was he offended? It wasn't his business.

Rose stared at him, her face hard. "You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy." she said, trying to remain calm.

"Really?" he countered, raising an eyebrow, "Because it all seemed quite clear to me."

There was a beat where they stared each other down.

"You can't tell Charlotte." her hard veneer slipped, and she found that she was practically begging him. She made to grab a hold of his forearm, and he pulled it away from her grasp.

"I won't," he said, his voice clear and even, "but you should."

And for the second time in as many minutes, Rose was left alone in the corridor.