There was an unusual hush over Diagon Alley this final week of August. Traditionally home to the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts students scurrying to and fro to find their books, this year families moved along almost silently, barely engaging with those they passed. Even shop windows looked dim. As she made her way down the cobblestone paths, Rose knew why no one looked at her, why voices were quieter and laughter was absent.
It was a Tournament year, and no one was excited to return to school to see the slaughter.
Every seven years the European Magical Supremacy gathered all students from its three major schools and forced them to compete in what was formerly known as the Tri-wizard tournament. Eight students from each school were randomly selected and put through a series of tasks where they must fight to survive, including fighting one another. What was once a festivity centered around magical cooperation was now a ploy of the EMS to show it's control over its people and remind those living within its magical borders that rebellion was futile, and escape was hopeless.
The year before Rose started at Hogwarts, three of her cousins had been selected for the tournament: Teddy Lupin, not truly a cousin but practically blood, a seventh year Ravenclaw, and Molly Weasley, a second year Hufflepuff, had been chosen from Hogwarts. Dominique Weasley was selected from Bauxbatons, and her family was just emerging from grieving the loss of two out of the three.
Teddy fought valiantly to the end, the final match murdering a Durmstrang who had taken out Dominique at the start of the games. But all the killing had changed Teddy. Being part werewolf and a metamorphamgus had worked to his advantage, but when he emerged covered in blood and mud his girlfriend, Victorie, could barely look at him. Her little sister had died in the games after all. The two were now married, but they remained distant from the rest of the Weasley clan, choosing to heal in private and refusing to bring children into the world, into the games.
Rose wondered how many Weasleys might enter the games this time. There were more of them, more at stake, and it was her final year. She rounded a corner and entered Madame Malkins for new school robes, pondering the weight of the year ahead, head down, brow furrowed.
Scorpius stood in Madame Malkins, getting measured for his new robes. Every year it seemed like he grew half a foot and his shoulders broadened. Quidditch training, dark arts training, and his own desire to remain in top physical shape had formed new muscles, diminished any chance at body fat, and given him increased stamina for doing longer, harder workouts. That preparation was nothing compared to the Tournament.
He'd nearly made it out of school without having to compete in the tournament. It would be his final year, but he felt as if the chances for him to be chosen were high. With the EMS ruling, they hoped to choose the strongest of the groups that tended toward darker magic so that they would prevail. Scorpius wished they would instead weed out the weak Slytherins and Durmstrangs rather than the strong ones.
As the door opened, his gaze popped to it. Rose Weasley. Of course she would come in at the same time. The Head Girl to his Head Boy. He'd been devastated at the news. With the tournament and having to be Rose's partner in rounds, seventh year looked like it would be the worst.
Rose moved into the shop, scanning the studies of clothes. "I'll be right with you, dear," came the scratchy voice of the seamstress. Rose looked up and her gaze connected with Scor's. Any trace of a smile vanished. He was her Head Boy, which meant as if the stress of the tournament weren't bad enough, she'd be spending excessive amounts of time with him.
"I'll just look around," she remarked. "I know what I need." Her size hadn't changed, except for losing the last of the baby fat in her face. Her cheekbones stood higher and her eyes appeared brighter, her long auburn curls finally tamed into a man that fell over one shoulder. She was trim and petite, but stronger then before. Hugo had insisted that she train with him all summer, and she felt it. Graceful and quick wanded with even the most complicated spells, she now sported physical strength to match. Scor, it appeared, had been training, too, but she tried not to let her gaze linger.
Scorpius scowled, waiting for the woman to finish his robes. Of course Weasley would appear. Once she was done fitting him, he roamed. It would take another half hour for them to finish all of his robes in the back of the shop. He found Rose. "Suppose you're thrilled to be Head Girl, eh, Weasley?"
"I am, actually," she replied, her eyes still locked on the winter robes she was considering. "What about you? I imagine Mummy's proud," she smirked.
The scowl at his lips twitched. "I couldn't care less about it."
She quirked an eyebrow at him and finally turned to face him. "It's a big year, Scor, so these responsibilities are more important than ever."
His scowl deepened, eyes narrowing. "Don't call me that, Weasley, and don't talk to me like I don't realize what's at stake," he spat. "I'm not daft. I know lives are on the line."
"Then act like someone others than yours could be lost, too," she huffed. "Twenty three people will go to us with Hogwarts and not go home at the end of the year. And people who have blood on their hands will walk the halls with us. I don't care if you don't like me, Malfoy, but you're going to have to work with me to make sure the place doesn't go up in flames."
He shrugged. "Maybe if it did, the EMS would have its fill."
"The EMS is never going to have its fill," she said dropping her voice low.
A sarcastic chuckle moved through his lips. "Really? I thought they'd roll over at the demands of 17 year olds."
"Someone needs to stand up to them," she replied. "What they do to us is inhuman. "
"So would the slaughter that would happen if someone stood up to them," he said, his lips pursing into a straight line. "Bad idea all around."
"You may be fine with things how they are," she said, moving away from him to the other side of the clothing rack, "but not everyone is. And one day you'll have to choose a side."
Scorpius shrugged. "I'm not worried about the EMS."
She looked up and caught his gaze. "You should be."
"I don't think so," he said, smirk slowly forming. "You, on the other hand, should be."
She worked an eyebrow at him. "And why should I, specifically, be worried?" Rose had her own reasons but she wanted to know his.
He shrugged. "Not just you. Most should be."
She scoffed a laugh. "Except you. You're perfectly content to eat out of a silver spoon and watch everyone else wait and wonder at what horrors might happen to them, aren't you?"
His smirk solidified. "Exactly. Even if I'm chosen, I have no problem weeding out the weak."
"Having a heart of stone is not something to be proud of," she said flatly, moving to another rack further across the store.
"World like this, there's no reason to have a heart of anything else," he said, watching her as she left. "Can't be soft and survive."
"Yes," she said, shooting him a glance, "you can. Compassion is not a weakness."
"Compassion gets you killed in the tournament," he said, brows furrowing. "Take a second to care for another and that's when they kill you."
"We're not in the tournament out here," she said. "It's been seven years since the last one."
He shrugged. "Better to not get in the habit."
Rose rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I bother." He would never change. He would never have a compassionate bone in his body. He would never care about anyone else.
Scorpius chuckled. "I don't know why you'd want to."
She flashed a look at him. Rose was not one to give up on people, but she wondered if Scorpius was worth the effort. "Well, if you're not going to take being Head Boy seriously, don't bother wearing the pin. Give it to someone else who will actually care. "
He shook his head. "If they thought someone else ore worthy, they would have awarded it to him."
His logic was sound, but she still begged to differ. "Then prove you're worthy of it. Prove me wrong."
A laugh pushed through his lips. "Your opinion doesn't matter to me, Weasley."
"One day someone's opinion offer than your own will matter to you," she said, moving away from home. "I just hope it isn't too late."
A smirk settled to his lips. "Probably not."
Rose huffed a sigh and turned to reply to him but the seamstress intercepted her and started carting her off to the dressing room. She glanced back at Scorpius one last time. It was sure to be an interesting year.