Ashwinder

Disclaimer: all of this ultimately belongs to J.K. Rowling (characters, setting, the world, basically everything you recognise). The plot, the writing – that's mine. No stealing. I have a man eating giant bunny on loan to track you down and gobble you. You have been warned.

Rose Weasley has always been the outsider. The one Ravenclaw in a family of Gryffindors, the one voiceless in a family of warriors. He was the same, determined to not be his father, but still placed in Slytherin, the one more at home with his eyes at the sky than taunting another.

Outsiders both, but unlikely friends.

In a world still recovering from a disastrous war, the resentment of generations past still remain. Whispers of Dark Magic linger in the air, and an increasingly scared nation sees no one to blame but the reformed Death Eaters and their children….

Chapter One. Apologies

"Rose, if you wouldn't mind, could you make sure Hugo does his transfiguration homework?" Her mother asked as she hovered by the fire, her hand in the flowerpot above the fireplace. Her father rolled his eyes at her mother's anxious expression, taking a pinch of the Floo powder and throwing it into the fire.

"Don't worry 'Mione," he told her patiently, stepping into the now vibrant emerald green flames. "I'm sure Hugo and Rose will be just fine. If they run into any trouble, James will be there, and Neville isn't far away." He kissed her swiftly on the cheek and waved goodbye to his eldest child, closing his eyes and tucking in his elbows. "Behave yourself Rose. The Ministry of Magic!" He announced, and with a great rush of the fire, Rose's father disappeared. Hermione Weasley still hovered by the fire, teetering on the edge of leaving and giving one last command.

"It's okay Mum!" Rose soothed her, "Honestly, we'll be fine! It's not like we've never been to Diagon Alley before. Just because neither you nor Uncle Harry is going to be there, doesn't mean the whole world is going to become the Forbidden Forest." Rose smiled softly, propelling her mother into the fire. Hermione sighed, and nodded.

"Make sure Hugo doesn't go in Knockturn Alley then," she said finally, reconciled at last to the situation. "And give the parcel on the shelf to Neville now, it's from Grandmother Weasley. And make sure Hugo gets up before your cousins arrive. Merlin knows, James and Louis would have in Diagon Alley with his pyjamas still on given half a chance." Hermione looked almost despairingly up at the second floor of the house, where Hugo slept on. "Ministry of Magic." She announced to the flames, and much like Rose's father, her mother was gone in a roar and rush of flame and sound.

Still in her nightgown, Rose glanced at the clock that rested upon the mantelpiece, checking the time. It was still too early for any of her cousins to be awake, let alone organised to come to the Weasley country house that morning for their trip to Diagon Alley. Resigning herself to at least a few hours of relative boredom, Rose left the sitting room to return to her room, her eyes catching on the daily displays of magic within her own house. In her mother's study, books marked their pages and ordered themselves upon the bookshelves, while the laundry sorted and washed itself. In her father's private room, the Muggle police radio was on, and a quill scratched out a copy of any calls of interest. Rose had long grown used to the daily merging of magic and mundane, of Muggle and wizard, to be surprised by any of the tricks her parent's main country home seemed to have.

As she walked past Hugo's closed door and into her own bedroom, Rose was tempted to simply ignore what her parents had asked and sleep the day out. The outings with her cousins were never truly fun experiences for Rose. They took after their parents much more than she did – they had all inherited the Gryffindor spirit, while she simply had her mother's prodigious talent in magic, which was hardly a fair trade. More than that, she hated the way they were always stopped and asked how their parents were, and how every man and woman seemed to have a story to give them about their heroic parents. Or when their parents were there, the way they were stopped every five metres for a conversation about incidents long past. Even when she was without her parents, it seemed to Rose that she could not escape the shadow of their deeds. Heroic deeds at that, deeds that had led to the downfall of the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time, and the rebuilding of the Ministry of Magic.

A rap on her window alerted Rose to the presence of a sleek, tawny owl. Opening her window for the owl, Rose smiled as she recognised it. Emrys held out a leg, allowing Rose to untie the letter before nipping her gently as she offered it a treat from her own sleeping owl's tray. Emrys took the treat and flew back to the sill, waiting patiently for Rose's own reply. Sitting down on her bed, Rose opened the letter, unreasonably anxious for the words that came not from a cousin or sibling, or adoptive family, but from a friend.

Rosie, he began in neat elegant script.

Thank you for writing. I thought after our fight that you might not have wanted to. That's how everyone else always acts. But not you. Never you. Thank my stars that I have you as a friend.

How are your holidays? Mine are okay – Mother and Father are fighting again. I'm so sick of it, of the yelling and curses and all. And, sure, they love each other, but all them ever seem to do is fight about the same things. He doesn't love her enough, he's working too much, does he even know his son, blah, blah, blah…. Then Father yells back retaliation while I'm in the next room trying to figure out what I should say to you. That's why this letter took so long. Not because I was ignoring you, Merlin no, but because I can't figure out what to put down. Even now, I can't. The right words just aren't coming into my head. I guess I'm trying to say sorry for everything. I keep forgetting that when I talk to you, I'm talking to another person, not just myself. You know I'm sorry if I say anything that offends you, don't you? I would never mean to hurt you Rose.

It's almost time to go back to school… can you believe it? We're N.E.W.T. students now. Have you got your marks back? I just got mine – all O.W.L.s, even in Ancient Runes (you worked wonders) and even an Outstanding in Charms and Transfiguration. It was just an E in potions and an A in History of Magic. Father wasn't overly thrilled with those, but I did what I could. What about you? Eleven outstandings I'm guessing, and I have a feeling that I'm right. And you can count on those feelings. After all, I do Divination – I know these things.

I know this letter is a bit mismatched, and you're probably laughing at me right now, but it's the best I could do. I am sorry Rose, for everything. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I just want you to know that. I'm going to Diagon Alley today and tomorrow, so I hope to see you there? If not, September first.

Sincerely,

S.

Rose sighed. She could easily imagine him writing the letter, the frustration he must have gone through trying to find those elusive perfect words. Scorpius had always been a perfectionist, always wanted to get things exactly right. It made tutoring him in Ancient Runes easier than she had expected, but now it was a block between the two of them. It would have been easier if she were face to face with him. She could have slapped him, gotten angry, anything and then they would be back to whatever normality their friendship possessed. But they couldn't, not like this. I'm going to Diagon Alley today and tomorrow…. A coincidence? Maybe, maybe not. Scorpius was bound to know someone who knew when they were going to the Alley. He could easily arrange to be there at the same time as them. The prospect of seeing him made Rose's heart skitter about in her chest. She wasn't ready to see him yet. She wasn't ready to give up her anger. He had insulted her family, and by extension, her. But in the letter, it was easy to see his pain, the way he ached for the past. Rose looked at Emrys.

"And what does he want me to send back, Emrys?" She asked, raking her fingers through her red curls. The owl hooted softly from the sill, but gave no answer that Rose could understand. "An acceptance? A proclamation of surviving friendship? I don't even know if what we have is friendship in the first place." Rose murmured to herself, absently fiddling with her fingers in anxiety. "James can't even stand the fact that I tutor him, let alone tell him I'm friends. And Merlin knows, Albus is no better than him. Even Louis finds himself tested by his mere presence." Rose sighed, picking up a piece of spare parchment and a quill from her bedside table. The nib of the quill hovered above the paper, a drop of ink falling and marking the paper with a dark smear.

Scorpius, she began,

I'm at Diagon Alley today. That's all I've got for you. I can't forgive you. Not yet anyway. I'm sorry, but that's the best I can do.

Rose.

P.S. Yes. Eleven O.W.L.s – all outstanding. It's official, I beat Mum in something. Hooray for me.

P.P.S. Hugo let an Ashwinder get into the house during the summer. He's been a bit of an idiot this year. It was lucky that Mum and Dad came back when they did, otherwise the house would have been burnt down. That's how well my holidays are going. Marvellous, isn't it?

The words felt woefully inadequate – there was just so much she wanted to say. How hurt she was. How she could understand, but that didn't justify anything. How much she hated it when he couldn't get along with her family. How, maybe, it was just easier if they weren't friends at all. How much she had wanted a letter from him, even one as confusing and assorted as it was. How he made her feel like she wasn't a let down to her family for not being a Quidditch player and not being a Gryffindor. How sometimes she dreamed of running away to somewhere where her parents and Harry Potter had never been heard of, and she would take him with her because no one else in the world seemed to think of Scorpius as a human being in his own right. How she felt so inadequate when she heard Lily was on her second boyfriend, and Rose hadn't even had one yet. How she wished she were more than her mother's brains and her father's height, and how she wished people could see beyond his father. How she had felt when she had heard James laugh at Scorpius's dream of being Auror, and saying that would never happen.

Part of her wanted to add another postscript, just to say the words she never could say out loud. I missed you. But that would be against everything. People who were angry didn't miss the friends who had angered them. But she did, and her anger was diminishing with every minute that passed. Scorpius was the one of the few people who didn't make her feel like she was alone in a crowded room, and the only one who wasn't biased to believe everything that came out of her cousins' mouths.

"Come on Emrys," Rose called out softly, fastening the reply to his leg before stroking his gleaming feathers. "Take this to him for me, okay? It's the best I have."

In his amber eyes, there was no judgement, only affection for the one person he had been sent to most often, the one who saw him, perhaps more than his owner's family. Rose Weasley sent more letters to him than anybody else, and he sent the same back to her. Him – the one person her parents had said she had to beat, the one she couldn't ever be a friend with because of her family, Scorpius Malfoy. The one person who understood what it meant to live in the shadow of a family legacy, and feel the influence of it as if it were the weight of the world bearing down upon their shoulders.

It was at promptly eleven in the morning that the Potter and Weasley branches of the family gathered at the Granger-Weasley country home. Its large expanse of tree surrounded paddock provided ample room for a quick Quidditch game between the fiercely competitive family members, making it the meeting place for almost any second generation gathering. Though Rose herself had only a middling interest in the game itself, she was forced to take her broomstick and mount it, playing as chaser against Lily, which, in itself, was a large disadvantage. Rose was an average flyer, good for general use but not for Quidditch. But her younger cousin was a chaser for the Gryffindor team, having inherited her mother's skill as such. Likewise, Albus and James were also talented flyers, though James had decided not to become a Quidditch player, despite his own aptitude for the skill. Instead, James liked the thrill of broom racing to the more strategic game of Quidditch. Hugo, for all his love of the game, was too full of dreams. He preferred the role of beater, though his small frame was more suited to the role of the seeker, so had never made the team, making the Gryffindor team only mostly consisting of the Potter/Weasley family tree.

The match, consisting of teams of four (two chasers, one keeper and one beater to act as physical blocks for each side) was fast, furious and close to bloody. James weaved in and out of Lily and Roxanne, only to be sent whirling throughout the sky in an effort to avoid Hugo's broomstick as it darted across James's path. Dominique, in her truly fearless fashion, flew straight at Roxanne and Lily, forcing them to abandon their course rather than hit their beloved cousin, while Albus and Louis tried desperately to stop the balls from going past the designated score zone of the tree line, racing up and down the length of the trees, arms outstretched. On the odd chance Rose had the ball, she clung low to the ground and gave it as quickly as she could to James or Dominique, preferring to simply fly around the perimeter of the ground and pretend she was doing something when she was, in fact, doing nothing at all. It was to this that Lorcan and Lysander Scamander found themselves watching, as they appeared over the crest of the hill, the two young boys watching the match with some enjoyment.

"I thought we were going to Diagon Alley!" Lorcan called as James scored another goal, the ball slipping past Louis's fingers. "If I'd known this was going on, I'd have brought my own broom and played too!" The Gryffindor seeker proclaimed, elbowing the Ravenclaw seeker in the side. Lysander, for his part, did not do anything in return, only rolling his eyes so that Rose could see his exasperation. Both boys did not look overly like their mother, except for their large eyes. Dark haired and average height, the two were near identical were it not for their differing personalities. Lysander already had ink dried on the ends of his fingertips, with a rumpled quill shoved deep into his pockets, the edge of the feather barely peeking out, while Lorcan had a more suntanned face and a ready smile plastered nearly permanently on his face, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up.

"We were just waiting for you guys to appear," Rose informed them, as Dominique and James started a fight about some foul James had, in all likelihood, committed but he denied. "And you know this lot. You can't say no to them if it's about anything Quidditch."

Lysander nodded in agreement as Lorcan wandered to talk to Hugo. "I know what you mean. Are Molly and Lucy coming today?" Lysander asked, mentioning Rose's two cousins, the daughters of Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey. Rose shook her head, thinking of the two girls. Molly was a third year like the Scamander twins, and Gryffindor as well, while Lucy was a second year in Hufflepuff, the only Hufflepuff within the family. There was almost a strange kinship between Lucy and Rose, that came from not being Gryffindors, or perhaps, that the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses did seem to get along better with each other than with Slytherin or Gryffindor, or Merlin forbid, the two together. Those houses got along as well as Devil's Snare in sunlight.

"I don't think so." Rose said slowly, clutching her broomstick in her hands. "Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey were too busy to come to Diagon Alley, and you know what Uncle Percy is like. He'll worry about them, even if they're right under his nose. I think the only time he'd let them come with us was if he knew Grandmum Weasley was coming." Rose added seriously. "I don't think he trusts my Dad, or Uncle Harry, that much either."

"Considering what my mum has told me," Lysander grinned slightly. "That would not surprise me in the least."

Rose nodded her agreement, motioning for Lysander to lead the way back to the house. "That's quite valid. I imagine Aunt Luna must have so many wonderful stories about my parents that Mum and Dad forbid Uncle Harry, or Uncle George from telling. Like, how Dad was totally off his rocker one time and ignored my mother for days because of some stupid rat. Or the time he broke Uncle Harry out from his Muggle family." Lysander arched his eyebrows at the mention of that story, but Rose continued on. "It's like the only stories they want me to here is ones were they broke no rules and had a good time and saving the world was as easy as staring at a Veela and, by Merlin's pants, they did nothing wrong. I'm sure that if I was going to go bad, I would have done so by now, don't you think?"

Lysander snickered as he pulled open the door for her, and followed Rose up the stairs. "You know what you are to them though. You're Daddy's princess, first born, the actual responsible one – hey, don't give me that look! I mean it! That's what you are!"

"Thanks for the reminder." Rose replied dryly. "So, my parents alter their stories to the point of it really being an 'inspired by' fiction, and you want me to believe the motivating cause is because I'm the responsible first born?" Sarcasm was heavy in her tone. "Of course, tell the truth to the child who will brag about it, and be inspired by it, but lie to the level-headed one. Lysander, your logic? Not the most sound I've ever heard. Just a head's up."

Rose dumped her broom on her bed, gathering a small bag of things she would need for the afternoon at Diagon Alley. Standing in the doorway, Lysander looked awkward and out of place, his cheeks stained red as he caught sight of some of the more feminine items within Rose's room. Like her father before her, Rose preferred mess in her space than order. The chaos, which in it's own way, was organised, extended only so far across her bedroom floor, leaving her study desk clear and neat.

"Well, my mother is Loony Luna, you know. Did you hear? Dad's taking Mum to the mountains to visit Granddad. He's up there looking for something or other…"

Rose tuned out Lysander's voice as her fingers found the scattered letters from Scorpius. A blush rising high into her cheeks, Rose tried to gather them all together inconspicuously. How could she have forgotten she had been reading them? If anyone knew she was speaking to him, writing to him… Rose would hate to see the outburst from James, or her father. Bundling the various letters together, Rose shoved them into a drawer roughly. It was all she could do until she was alone, safe in her bedroom with complete privacy.

"Rose, did you hear me?"

"Huh?" Rose turned around, smiling at Lysander. His still childish face was a picture of dramatic pain. Waving him away, Rose shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Wrackspurts got you?" Lysander asked offhandedly.

Rose snorted. "Yeah. Totally."

"Uncle Neville!"

Hugging Professor Neville Longbottom tightly, Rose smiled up at the man who was as close to her family as any other blood relative. His wife, Hannah, looked on from the sidelines, waving her wand about to collect the excess ash from the carpet of the room and return it to the fireplace as the large group of assorted Weasley's, Potter's and Scamander's gathered together. Releasing him from her hug, Rose gave Neville the gift from Grandmother Weasley. "I don't know what it is," Rose promised, "but Mum wants me to give it to you, so here you are. Hello Hannah." Rose greeted her, turning to hug her as well. "Oh, and she told me to remind you that we're having a get together at the Burrow if you'd like to come. The twenty eighth, I'm pretty sure she said."

"And I already told Molly that we were both coming, didn't I?" Neville smiled at Rose, their faces almost level. Rose had always been tall for her age, and standing next to the Herbology professor just made Rose feel more so. "Anyway, are you all sure you don't want any lunch from the Cauldron? Or do you just want to go straight into the Alley?"

Looking at Hugo and Lily's eager faces, Neville seemed to find his own answer without Rose needing to say anything. He laughed. "Make sure to tell Hermione that I'll be there Rose. And don't cause any trouble James!" Neville called as the group left the apartment above the Leaky Cauldron, pushing and shoving each other down the stairs and out into the courtyard. As James tapped the third brick above the dustbin, the wall disappeared to reveal the bustling, wizard haven of Diagon Alley.

Rose was always taken by the business of Diagon Alley. Witches and wizards of all sizes, colours and shapes formed active, chattering crowds, discussing eagerly the newest wares and latest gossips of the magical circles. Every part of the Alley screamed magic, and the inhabitants of the Alley seemed to relish the freedom they had in being as magic as they liked without any discretion or restriction placed on them whatsoever. There, they could proclaim the wonders of the latest Nimbus broom (Nimbus X3000, which was still no match for the Firebolt 'Phoenix' model) or bemoan the agonising price of dragon liver (twenty galleons an ounce, with the price expected to soar as dragon numbers continued to decline) with no fear that a Muggle would overhear and suspect the existence of a world that ran alongside their own.

The younger cousins, of course, were the first to depart the group, dragging Hugo and Lily towards Uncle George's shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with an excitement that bordered upon exhilarated glee, while James, Dominique, Roxanne and Dominique were left to gather money from Gringotts and then spend it all while the others played jubilantly. James, unsurprisingly, was not focused on the job at hand for long, catching the eye of the attractive Hufflepuff Head Girl Verity Lucas and instantly putting on an air of easy confidence and swagger after giving Roxanne the key to his parent's vault. Dominique giggled as she watched James talk to Verity, turning to Rose.

"He really thinks he's the greatest gift to the world, doesn't he?" Dominique asked incredulously, murmuring French underneath her breath. Listening closely, Rose could distinguish the meanings of the ever so quiet words. By Merlin, he needs to get his ego checked….

"Oui." Rose agreed quietly, leading Dominique by the arm towards the goblin bank. "But every girl I know is practically tripping over her feet to be his girlfriend." Rose confided. "It's always 'James is so handsome' and 'James should play Quidditch' and all sorts of drivel. It's almost enough to make me vomit."

"Or want to break his nose." Dominique added with a small laugh. "I can just imagine his reaction. Not 'Good Merlin, why'd you break my nose you cow' but 'Good Merlin, now my nose is all crooked!' instead!" Dominique cackled as they wandered down the cobblestone street. "And, of course, because he pays no attention whatsoever in any of our classes, or even thinks of cracking open a book for that matter, he wouldn't know how to set it right, and I bet Madam Pomfrey or Madam Slaine wouldn't set it right either. It would heal all wonky, and it would serve him right!"

The happy imaginings continued as the three remaining continued towards Gringotts, but stopped unfortunately as they descended into the wizard bank at dizzying speed, cutting off Roxanne's vivid imagination of James being transfigured into his female counterpart, and forced to endure his own seedy pick up lines, of course, rendered by James' own enemies from the Slytherin house, a thought at which Dominique had laughed so loudly the goblins, including the head goblin of Griphook, had looked at her with barely withheld scorn. Moneybags full (and minds also full of errands), the three parted, Roxanne heading back towards her father's shop (for she was probably the only one who could keep sway over Lily) and Dominique heading, instead, for Quality Quidditch Supplies. Rose, though, wandered slowly through the throng of witches and wizards and contemplated nipping into Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour (which was now run by his nephew, Daniel) for a sundae, when she spotted him.

Rose saw him from a distance, watching him over the crowd. He hadn't changed a bit in the summer, except, perhaps, he had grown a little taller. Otherwise, it was still the same boy, with the same white blonde hair that fell in gentle waves and grey eyes. For one moment, Rose was tempted to forget she had seen him at all, and move away from the Alley so there was no chance he could see her, but the moment passed and Scorpius's eyes locked on to hers. Her heart hammered in her chest. She wasn't ready to see him. As soon as he came close and said his first 'I'm sorry', she knew she would instantly forgive him the wound he had inflicted upon her. She wouldn't stand her ground, wouldn't stick to her convictions – she wasn't a Gryffindor after all. So Rose did the only thing she could think of doing. She ran, but she doubted it would do any good. She was easy to spot in a crowd, with her bright red hair and tall height.

Rose darted in between shoppers, past the shops and looked for a place to hide. Her mind rested briefly on the path to Knockturn Alley, but rejected it swiftly – her father would ground her for weeks if he knew she had gone down to Knockturn Alley. Catching a glimpse of light, wavy hair, Rose turned into the closest shop, and sought sanctuary in the high bookcases that filled Flourish and Blott's.

Her hands shook as she took out her school list, looking at the books she needed for the year. Nearly all of her subjects her mother had done at N.E.W.T. level, excluding Care of Magical Creatures. Her mother had continued Arithmancy, but Rose held little interest in the magical properties of numbers. The long number charts she had had to memorise during her O.W.L. year had nearly sent her to tears numerous times and it was luck, more than anything else, that had helped her remember the charts during the examination period. No, Rose was through with Arithmancy, and doing it simply because her mother had loved the subject. She preferred Care of Magical Creatures to it any day. And Hagrid had always said she had a hand with animals, an eye for detail.

The store door swung open, the bell's sound resonating through the near silent store, a contrast to the sound of pages turning and books being shelved. Rose jumped as a hand touched her shoulder, the booklist falling from her hands as she spun around.

"Oh, sorry!" She managed to squeak out, bending to pick up the paper as the store assistant looked at her curiously. "I didn't realise you were there! You frightened me! Silly me, right?" Rose's attempt at a laugh quavered in the air as the store assistant gently took the booklist from Rose's hands.

"A N.E.W.T. student?" He asked, leading her through the store. "We've got all of these. Wait here for a second, and I'll be back with the books. In fact, I might get you a bag… some of these are bulky…." The store assistant mumbled to himself, leaving Rose at the counter as he went towards the back of the store, murmuring book names and authors underneath his breath. Some of the books Rose already knew. It was her mother's habit to never sell a book, or give it away, so in her youth, Rose had often perused the books she would later need. It was only on her mother's orders that Rose went to buy the books again, with their newly revised content. Her mother didn't want her to be at any disadvantage, Rose supposed, though what disadvantage that was, Rose didn't know. What was the real difference between the books? Only twenty odd years, she guessed. Nothing much. Rose looked about the stacks of books, fingering the spine of one before pulling it out. The book smelt invitingly of parchment and it's leather cover.

"'Further Spells and Enchantments for the Practical Wizard'." Rose read aloud from the cover, before she skimmed through the pages. There were spells for minor healing, and for navigation, spells for cooking and cleaning, and spells for portable lamplights. Taking it into her arms, Rose continued to move down the aisle, taking another book out and flicking through it's pages. There was so much magic out there, she thought as she saw spells and diagrams in Complex Wizardry for the Gifted showing how to make fires of frost burning ice, slow time to around oneself to make a fast escape, so much to discover and find. All they had to do was be brave enough to risk failure.

"I've got the books here miss!" The store assistant returned with a bundle of books under his arms. Rose turned around, placing the book in her arms with the other and placing them gently down beside her schoolbooks.

"I've got my brother's booklist here as well. And, might I have these too?" She asked, pushing them across the counter. The man looked at her speculatively, his eyes wandering across her face. "I do have enough money, if that's what you're worried about you know." Rose added, her tone a touch too sharp as she saw the disbelief growing in the man's eyes.

"It's not that miss, I was just wondering if you might be getting a bit ahead of yourself." He replied, his tone apologetic as he took Hugo's letter from her hands. "I mean, these spells…" he pointed to Complex Wizardry for the Gifted and tapped it's blue leather cover with a sad smile. "They truly are quite complex and difficult miss. I have friends much older than you who can't do spells from these books, if you know what I mean. No disrespect miss."

"I should hope not," came a familiar voice from behind Rose. Her stomach sank in apprehension. She knew that voice, and she had been hiding from that voice. "But I wouldn't worry on her part. Rose can do any spell you put at her. Her mother even taught her to make a Patronus, did you know? It takes the form of Granian. It's quite impressive really. But I guess that's what you expect from the daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, right sir?"

The store assistant's face flushed red. "Right, sorry, I'll just call this up for you." He mumbled, pushing his brown hair out of his face as he sorted through the books and returned to the back of the store to wrap them. Rose inhaled deeply, keeping herself safely calm. Why had he brought up her parents? She would have done just fine without their mention! Turning to face Scorpius, Rose crossed her arms over her chest.

"You didn't have to mention my parents. I was quite fine without you barging in." She told him sourly. Scorpius gazed back at Rose, his grey eyes merry as he leaned against the counter, a letter from Hogwarts in his hand, the familiar insignia blazed across the top of the paper flamboyantly.

"Okay, I will admit you are right there. But, his face? Priceless. He was insinuating that the daughter of one of the heroes of our age, and perhaps the greatest witch in existence today, was daft. You have to see the humour in that. No? Pity." Scorpius sighed, a grin pulled at his lips. "Oh, come on Rose! It's not that bad, is it?"

Rose frowned, scratching her fingernails into the wood of the counter. "Why aren't you asking why I ran away?" She asked, looking down at her hands rather than face him. It was such a stupid question to ask, but Rose felt like it needed an answer. If there was one person to confound Rose, it was Scorpius. He never could do anything in the way she thought he might. Not really. It was like he was always determined to prove her wrong on every single thing.

"That? I think it was because you're still mad at me? Yes? No?" Scorpius shrugged. "Either that or you don't really want to be seen with me, which is, I guess, fair enough. After all, I'm a Malfoy, and wasn't it sheer betrayal that allowed my family to weasel our way out of Azkaban? You can't trust a Malfoy, we'll betray you just to get what's best for us. That's what they say, isn't it? And it's a bit true, I guess. My father's family did betray… well, everyone. They got Voldemort to rise, then betrayed him… no, that was more my grandmother. And my father? Gosh, well didn't he just get in everybody's way? He caused Dumbledore to die, tortured who knows how many people…."

"Stop that!" Rose hissed, looking back up at Scorpius. "That's not you and don't you dare say anything like that again otherwise, by Merlin, I will hex your mouth shut so you can't!" Rose felt like she was on the verge of tears. "That's not you. What they did… that's not you!"

Scorpius sighed, his mouth falling into a straight line. "I'm sorry Rose, really. For everything. For the fight, for today." He stepped closer to her, so close they were almost touching, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm sorry for saying that you were worthless. I honestly didn't mean it. I was just angry with Albus and James, angry for them being the way they were and making me feel like shit. That's not a good reason, it's an excuse but it's the only justification I have. You're my best friend Rose, you've got to know that I would never want to hurt you." He brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I forget how your hair always gets so red in summer."

"Like a flame?" Rose managed to say, half laughing, half crying. "If you say like a flame, I will murder you. I get enough of that from James, and that's without him calling me out on being a prefect. Prefect! The way he says it makes it sound like something nasty."

The store assistant returned with the books, neatly enfolded in layers of brown paper. Grabbing the parcel, Rose paid him and turned away, intent on heading to the Alley with her back straight and chin held up. Scorpius, however, put paid to the idea and walked alongside her, his face determinedly cheerful, opening the door for her in a fit of gallantry that Rose attributing to him trying to get back into her good books.

"Shouldn't you be getting your own books?" Rose queried as she walked down the Alley towards Madam Malkins. She nodded to the booklist Scorpius still had in his hands pointedly. "You're just going to look stupid when you go back into there, you know."

"I already got my books." Scorpius answered, his voice bright. "Smile Rose! It's a beautiful day, I am willing to grovel for forgiveness and you are a top grade N.E.W.T. student. You've beaten your mother's record, you're still the smartest witch or wizard of our age," Scorpius paused as Rose rolled her eyes at the title that had been transferred from mother to daughter, "and the Grey Lady happens to love you as do your bajillion cousins. Surely something is worth smiling about on that list?"

A grin managed to find it's way into her expression. "Well, maybe the grovelling part." She admitted. Scorpius's face lit up jubilantly. "But that doesn't mean I'm forgiving you!" She added hastily, watching the happiness parade itself shamelessly on his face. "You're still not off the hook."

"Duly noted," Scorpius replied solemnly. "But if my grovelling is not enough, I have a surprise for you."

Rose peered closely at Scorpius, who was trying desperately to keep his expression straight and solemn, despite the bright smile that started to burgeon across his face. Even a smile he was fighting to keep from his face seemed to lighten his face, lighten his whole body, as if brightened by a sun inside him. Arching an eyebrow, Rose gave Scorpius a reluctantly half smile. There was nothing but a letter in his hands, and he was otherwise dressed in Muggle clothing. Just like Scorpius to tempt Rose with the mystery of a surprise. "Scorpius," she began, gesturing to his surprise-less state, "I hate to break it to you, but I don't see any surprise."

"Of course not." He replied in a matter of fact tone. "I'm saving it. Think of it as a last ditch attempt to be something other than a stupid git in your mind. Besides, I haven't got it yet. It's coming though, so don't worry."

"What is 'it'?" Rose added the air quotations with difficulty – the package of books in her arms proved awkward to manage. "It better not be a… I don't know. A framed plaque or something about my parents. Or…." Nothing else came to mind. "I don't know! But it better be good otherwise you will be a permanent git. It will say so on your permanent record too. Scorpius Malfoy – permanent git. Do not remove."

Scorpius laughed, coming a halt beside Rose. Stopping next to him, Rose furrowed her brow in confusion. "You're always good value Rose. I'll see you somewhere on the train, okay? I'll give you the surprise then. And you'll like it, I swear." He walked backwards slowly, merging into the crowd inch by inch. "Go and see your cousins Rosie!" He called to her questioning expression. "Your uncle's shop looks like it needs you to be there."

On that note, Scorpius waved and turned away, leaving Rose in the middle of a crowd with a parcel of books underneath her arm. Shaking her head, she looked at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, only to see James, with his arm cocked, about to punch another man in the middle of the Alley.

Of course.