Note from the Author: Sorry about the wait! I'm going to try and have the next chapter posted by next Tuesday, before I leave for vacation, but again, I'm making no promises!

I feel like I've given Al a bad rap in these stories, and I know I've gotten a lot of comments about how annoying he is and how he seems to constantly be at odds with Rose and Scorpius, and I feel bad about that, because that's not how I see him at all! Just, in this particular story, he is meddling where he probably shouldn't be, and so there is a lot of conflict, but honestly, he's a good guy! I'm probably going to end up letting him tell his own story soon as this is done, if only to allow him to regain some dignity! :)

Also, sorry for all the angst! It does seem to be running rampant in this chapter! Chalk it up to the fact that I'm currently rereading Order of the Phoenix and Harry's angst is rubbing off on my writing!

Also, this chapter is nearly as long as Among Thorns in its entirety. Sigh . . . I really must work on that verbose tendency . . . :)

Scenes in italics are scenes from the past.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of it, never have, and most likely never will.


Fighting Briars - Chapter Two

It took fifteen-year-old Scorpius a full forty-five minutes to escape his parents and their well-meaning discussion of his career options, and if the Ridgetons hadn't been coming over for dinner that night, he probably would have been stuck longer.

But it was with a smile that Scorpius bounded up the stairs to his room to begin getting ready for the company. He hadn't expected anything less from his parents over the Christmas holiday of his fifth year. In fact, he'd spent the last few weeks of term using both Rose and Al for practice. At completely unpredictable moments, one of them would spring the question on him and force him to answer coherently and convincingly while they did their best impression of one or both of his parents.

Both Rose and Al were one hundred percent behind his decision to go into teaching. Now he had to get his parents behind the idea, and then he had to spend the next two years convincing everyone that teaching was, indeed, what he wanted to do, while at the same time preparing to submit an application to the Auror Program. Becoming an Auror was his secret dream – the one he had told only one other person – Professor Flitwick, who would be helping him plan the next two years, both his actual plan and his cover.

He hated deceiving everyone, but he hated even more the idea of everyone knowing what he wanted to do, and then being denied acceptance into the program for whatever reason.

But that was two years away. His focus now needed to be on tonight – and his first face to face meeting with Honoria since they'd been Sworn four and a half years earlier. Taking a deep breath, he shed his everyday robes and debated whether or not to dress up underneath as well as putting on his formal dress robes.

"What do you think?" he asked the mirror hanging on the wall.

"Very handsome, Master Malfoy," it said in response. Scorpius laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Thanks," he said sardonically, reaching for the formal dark blue robes he'd laid out earlier. The dress robes had been a gift from his parents at the beginning of the year as a congratulatory gift for getting named Prefect – and his mother informed him that getting them in Ravenclaw colors had been his father's idea.

He had started to fasten them when he heard Rose Weasley's voice.

"Scorpius?" Frowning with puzzled amusement, Scorpius looked around his room for the source of her voice. "Scorpius, are you there? Where the – oh, for the love of –" Her voice came louder then, sounding both exasperated and amused. "You've left it in the bottom of your trunk again, haven't you? SCORPIUS!" she shouted as Scorpius hurriedly crossed the room and lifted the lid of his trunk. There, looking up at him from a small window of glass was Rose's face. "Hey there," she said. He grinned.

"Sorry," he said, lifting his two-way mirror out of his trunk. The mirrors had been a gift from Al two Christmases before. They each had one. He carried his over to his desk and propped it up against a pile of books while he continued to get ready.

"So, did you tell them?" she asked. He smiled with one half of his mouth.

"Yeah," he said, checking his reflection in the mirror on the wall.

"And? How'd they take it?" she asked impatiently.

"Hard to tell with them," he said, summoning a comb from across the room and running it through his hair. "I think they were coming around to it, though."

"Good," she said. There was a pause, then she said, "What are you doing?"

"Company," he said by way of answering, moving his head back and forth to check his hair from all angles.

"Yeah, I gathered, but is it dinner or a gala?" He smirked and glanced toward her.

"Formal company," he clarified, sending the comb back across the room.

Rose muttered something that sounded like, "Crazy purebloods," but before he could do more than grin, she had spoken up again. "What did they want you to do?"

Scorpius shrugged as he began to search for his shoes. "I'm not really sure. Dad was bringing up some contacts he had in the Ministry if I didn't want something as 'demanding' as teaching, but I don't know that he wants anything in particular. He's really careful to avoid pushing one thing over another."

"Yeah, but what does he think of you teaching in specific?" she insisted.

"Merlin, Rose, I don't know!" he said, slightly exasperated. "Between being so terrified of turning out like Grandfather Lucius and being terrified that I'm going to turn around and start blaming him for what some people think of our family, he gets a little distant when talk turns to things like this. I have no idea what he thinks of me teaching or me being friends with you or me being a Ravenclaw!" He sat heavily in the chair by his desk. He sighed, rubbing his face. "Sorry," he muttered, but she only shrugged.

"No, I understand," she said, and he knew she did. "I don't talk about that stuff with my dad, either." They lapsed into silence, and Scorpius sat idle, thinking about it all for a few moments before remembering what he was supposed to be doing. "Your shoes are over in the corner by the door, where you always leave them," she told him as an afterthought. He turned. She was right.

"I can't be thinking about this right now," he muttered, Summoning the dress shoes and catching them deftly.

"Did I ever tell you how I got myself put into Ravenclaw?" Rose asked in an obvious effort to distract him. Scorpius took it gratefully.

"By being a freaking genius?" he asked, only halfway kidding. She pulled a face at him.

"No," she said with great dignity. "It's really Al's fault."

"What did you do?" he asked, a smile pulling at his lips as he worked his heel past the stiff leather.

"I tried to reason with the Hat," she admitted. Scorpius felt his eyebrows rise. Rose laughed. "I did!" she said. "I tried to tell it that because I wanted to be put into Ravenclaw, a decision that would mean breaking tradition and facing the potential wrath of my family, I clearly had enough bravery to merit being placed in Gryffindor."

"And what did the Hat say?" Scorpius asked around a laugh, propping his foot on the edge of his desk to tie the laces.

"Told me I'd proven where I ought to be and then stuck me with you and Al," Rose said, grinning.

"Only you, Weasley," Scorpius said.

"Yeah, probably," she replied wryly. She grew silent for a moment, then asked quietly, "Do you ever regret being a Ravenclaw, Scorpius?" Scorpius considered the question for a moment, then shook his head.

"No," he said seriously. "No other House would have suited me. My only regret is not knowing what my dad really thinks about it. I wish –" He hesitated for a moment then, but if he couldn't tell Rose, who could he tell? "I wish I could talk to him the way you talk to yours," he admitted.

"It helps that my dad doesn't feel responsible for an entire war," she said, her voice soft and serious. They shared a smile then, and Scorpius was on the verge of thanking her when a voice called out, "Rosie!" Rose jumped and glanced over her shoulder.

"I've got to go," she said in apology. Scorpius waved it away.

"Yeah, me too," he said, standing. "How do I look?" he asked. Rose rolled her eyes.

"Like a smarmy prat," she said. He grinned and headed for the door. Have fun at your gala," she called.

"It's a private dinner," he corrected.

"Whatever!" With another grin, he left his room and headed downstairs to receive the Ridgetons. Unfortunately, the grin didn't last long.

He had not seen Honoria Ridgeton in four and a half years, and he was now very aware of what he had only been vaguely aware of then – in six short years, he might find himself married to this woman. That knowledge made for a very awkward evening.

They'd had fairly regular conversations as children, but around the time they had both started school, their contact with one another had dwindled to the occasional, sporadic letter, full of stilted and formal inquiries of studies and classes as opposed to any real efforts to get to know one another.

The result was just what one might think – at the age of fifteen, they didn't know one another. And it was obvious throughout their attempts at conversation the entire evening. Luckily, one thing they did have in common was a mutual desire to not thoroughly embarrass themselves in front of their parents, so they were able to keep their awkward attempts at conversation to the private paths of the extensive gardens magically enchanted to be comfortable even in December.

Marriage. He was going to have to marry Honoria Ridgeton in six years. Well, no, he thought. Only if you don't find someone else. He desperately wanted to be able to talk to someone about this, and under any other circumstances, he'd have contacted Al or Rose and talked to them. But somehow, in the five years he'd known them, he'd never really managed to find a good opportunity to bring the Bonding up.

Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep, fully clothed on top of his bedclothes.

He dreamed that the Bonding was upon him, that he was standing outside a small white chapel. The only problem was, the large double doors were shut tight against him, keeping him out, even though he knew everyone was inside, waiting for him. He threw his full weight against the doors, but they wouldn't budge.

"What are you doing?" came a cheerful voice beside him, and there was Al, dressed in black robes, a huge grin on his face.

"I need to get inside, Al," Scorpius tried to explain, but Al just laughed.

"Well, you have to want it, Scorpius!" he said in a teasing voice.

"I do!" Scorpius insisted. "But the doors won't open! Help me, Al, please!"

"Well, since you said 'please,'" Al said, and stepped forward and tapped a bronze eagle three times. Scorpius took a minute to wonder how he had missed that, the knocker to his own Common Room. Looking closer at it though, he realized there was one difference. The eagle on this knocker was chained. Then the eagle spoke.

"How do you get east of the sun and west of the moon?" the eagle asked. Scorpius frowned, trying to figure it out.

"You take the train," Al said simply, and the door swung open. Scorpius stared at Al.

"But that's nonsense!" he said.

"Of course it is," Al said with a laugh. "Are you going in or not?"

Scorpius stepped through the door and found himself at one end of a long, narrow corridor. There was nowhere to go but forward, so he began to walk. At the other end of the hall was a single, empty chair, and two doors on either side of it, one a dark green, the other a deep blue. Written on the wall above the chair were the words Trust your heart.

"Al?" Scorpius called over his shoulder. Al seemed to know his way around this place.

But Al wasn't behind him. Scorpius turned and peered through the darkness, but he couldn't see anyone there.

"What are you waiting for, Scorp?" came his best friend's voice. Scorpius spun to see Al seated between the two doors, now dressed in ivory robes.

"I don't know which door to go through," Scorpius said.

"Do any of us?" Al asked him. Scorpius sighed in irritation.

"Al," he said, "this is serious! Which door leads to the Bonding?"

"They both do," Al told him.

"So it doesn't matter which door I take?"

"Oh, it matters a great deal," Al responded. "It will decide your future. But don't worry, Scorp! The Hat takes your choice into consideration."

"But this is my Bonding, not my Sorting!" Scorpius cried in frustration, thinking that if he could only get a straight answer, he could find his way out of here.

"But they're the same thing!" Al sang with another laugh. "You're a Malfoy, aren't you? You can choose to do what you want to do," he said, with a gesture to the blue door, "or you can choose to do what's expected of you," and he held up a hand to the green door.

Scorpius looked back and forth from the blue to the green, and then his eyes found the words on the wall. Trust your heart.

"This is my Bonding," Scorpius said slowly. "And that's the obligation I have to my family. So it's the green door." And he crossed to it, Al watching him impassively the whole way. "Right?" he asked just before touching the doorknob.

"It's your choice," was all Al said, so Scorpius touched the knob. At that moment, Al disappeared and the blue door opened.

A young woman in a bridal gown stepped out. Scorpius stared at her. It was Rose Weasley, and there was unspeakable pain on her face.

"Rose?" he asked, with a step toward her. She raised her face to his, her gaze hard and accusing. "Rose, what is it?" he asked frantically. "What's wrong?"

"You were supposed to trust your heart," she said in a hard, hurt voice.

"I didn't know you were behind that door," Scorpius tried to explain. It was suddenly the most important thing in the world that she understand, that she not think he was abandoning her. "Rose, I didn't know!" But she had turned her back on him and begun to walk slowly into the darkness. "Rose!" he yelled, and tried to run after her, but the green door had him fast by his hand on the knob. "Rose, I didn't know! Please!" As the green door slowly began to suck him into its depths, she turned slowly, enough for him to see one lone tear slip down her cheek. "ROSE!" he screamed as another bride, Honoria, but with fangs and claws, descended upon him, burying him in darkness as his parents and hers looked on impassively.

The last thing he heard was Rose's voice saying once more, "You were supposed to trust your heart.". . .

Gasping for breath, Scorpius sat straight up in his bed, the dream still vivid in his mind. Overcome with its implications, and feeling as if he'd just been struck between the eyes with something that should have been obvious long before now, he reached out, fumbling for the small mirror he'd moved to his bedside table hours before.

"Al Potter," he gasped frantically, still trying to regain to his breath. The mirror's surface clouded momentarily, then came into focus with Al's face, still groggy with sleep, but looking mildly concerned.

"Scorpius?" Al asked, squinting at the mirror. "Is everything all right?

Scorpius shook his head numbly and blurted out, "Al, I think I'm falling in love with Rose."

OOO

Scorpius Malfoy was in great distress, and could hardly concentrate on anything that his squad trainer was saying. He had been in such a state ever since the final examinations three days prior. He thought he had done well on both the written sections and most of the practical, but it was the final portion of the practical examination that weighed so heavily on his mind.

Since Harry Potter had taken charge of the program, the final practical portion of the entrance examination for all third year Auror students had consisted of a magically neutralized duel with one of the four squad leaders not their own, the most senior fighters in the department. Each of the fighters wore robes that visibly marked any touch of the neutralized spellwork, and disabled the hit fighter momentarily, depending on the strength of the spell used.

The four squad leaders not participating judged the student on their performance in the duel – losing did not automatically mean failure; the men and women the students were facing had, after all, been trained and practiced in their profession for the past twenty-five years at least. No, those judging looked for ingenuity and quick thinking, as well as powerful spells and a strong offensive front.

Scorpius Malfoy had been the last applicant to be tested, and he had entered the chamber to find himself face to face with Head Auror Harry Potter. He had wondered for a moment whether or not the pairing had been deliberate, but he had soon shoved the idea away, gripped his wand tightly, and prepared to duel.

From the moment they had saluted one another, and the first spell had been fired, Scorpius had entirely put aside who he was dueling and simply let his training take over. He had been trained well, and it had been added onto a natural talent for spellwork and a fierce determination to succeed.

The duel had gone quickly and silently. Scorpius deflected, blocked, or dodged all but three hits to his person, while returning as many to his opponent. The duel had ended in a fierce exchange of spells. Scorpius had advanced on the offensive, deflecting one curse, hitting his opponent with another, and, while his opponent dealt with the affects, Scorpius moved in to the Kill position, his wand pointedly squarely at the other man's throat. The robe registered the win.

It was then that he had come rushing back to himself. Auror Potter stood breathing hard, looking at Scorpius in some surprise. The silence in the chamber had been heavy indeed.

"Well," Auror Potter had said finally, with a step back. "I concede the fight. Well fought, Mr. Malfoy. Well fought indeed."

Extremely uncomfortable, Scorpius had nodded in response and proceeded to leave the chamber.

He had been stewing about this for the past three days. He had beaten Harry Potter in a duel. Harry Potter. And yes, he was well aware that if his hadn't been the fifth duel Auror Potter had fought that day, it probably wouldn't have happened, but that was beside the point. He had beaten Harry Potter. A Malfoy.

Auror Potter hadn't seemed upset, true enough, but Scorpius was sure that would set in eventually. He was positive that every one of his judges would look down on him and mark him down for such . . . presumption. No, they had all failed him, he was sure, or at least severely marked him down. A win was not the same as a pass, after all, just as a lose was not a guaranteed fail.

This was the day their results would be handed back, and as such, he was in a great deal of distress, and was having to force himself to pay attention to what Auror Weasley was saying to his squad.

". . . to thank the four of you for a great three years. I am proud of everything you have accomplished, and now I shan't keep you from the suspense any longer. Miss Fawcett. Miss Hawkins. Mr. Leonard." With each name, he handed a parchment envelope into a waiting hand and dismissed his squad for the last time.

Looking Scorpius in the eye as the others left, Auror Weasley tapped the remaining envelope against his palm twice, considering the student before him. Scorpius' heart plunged. This was it. Obviously, his actions had prompted so ill a response that he was to be reprimanded in person for them.

Swallowing hard, he tried not to let any of his emotions show on his face. "Scorpius," Auror Weasley said, his tone weighted as he held out the envelope. Scorpius took it hesitantly.

"Sir?" he asked. Very slowly, one corner of Auror Weasley's mouth rose.

"You passed first, Scorpius," the older man said quietly. "Out of the whole class. The panel was most impressed with your performance, Auror Potter in particular. You blew them all away, and I wanted to tell you in person."

Scorpius could hardly believe what he was hearing. "F–first?" he repeated, hastily opening his envelope, needing to see it in print before he'd truly be able to believe this wasn't all some elaborate hoax.

But there, on the parchment in front of him, were those very words.

Mr. Malfoy, we are pleased to inform you that . . . He let out a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he stared, stunned, at the paper in front of him, the truth only just then beginning to sink in.

He'd passed . . .

Auror Weasley was grinning now, as much at Scorpius' dumb shock as anything else. He clapped Scorpius on the back, saying, "Welcome to the force, Auror Malfoy." Scorpius could feel his own grin starting.

"Thanks," he breathed, still not quite able to look away from the parchment he was holding.

"There is a reception this Friday," Auror Weasley told him. "For the new recruits and their families. Your parents are, of course – welcome to join us. Just – let me know how many we can expect, so we can get a sense of numbers."

At his mentor's words, Scorpius felt the smile fall from his face. He had to respect Auror Weasley for not openly saying that his father's presence would have to be dealt with as a minor security threat, but Scorpius hadn't graduated first in his class for nothing, and he couldn't pretend that he didn't know what having an ex-Death Eater show up at a Ministry function would mean.

But he put on another bright smile and handled the problem as his teacher had – with casual nonchalance. "I find it likely that my parents will not be able to attend, but I will speak to them about it, to make sure."

"We appreciate it," Auror Weasley said with a more genuine smile. "Now, get home and share your news!"

With a nod to his superior, Scorpius left the room and headed out of the Ministry. He tried to keep the smile on his face, but found he couldn't quite manage it in light of the task now before him. Passing the strenuous final examinations had been easy compared with having to tell his father about it.

Scorpius had little idea about his father's feelings on the matter. Draco Malfoy had taken news of Scorpius' joining the program with the same calm, impassive mask that he took all news surrounding his son. He hadn't been openly disapproving of his son's choice, but he hadn't exacting been approving, either. He had been . . . nothing, and Scorpius knew that it was more than likely that his father would be nothing about this latest information as well – at least in front of his son.

Scorpius knew that his father had to have an opinion on his sons's career choice, but he knew equally well that trying to discern that opinion was like trying to get the time of day out of an unenchanted wall. Draco Malfoy was the most taciturn individual Scorpius had ever met, and it wouldn't have been quite so frustrating if he hadn't been Scorpius' father.

No, Scorpius thought as he made his way inside his family's remote manor home. His father was likely to respond to this Auror business the way he'd responded to everything else in Scorpius' life – never expressing disapproval, but never expressing pride, either.

Scorpius sighed as he shut the door behind him, bracing himself. "Mother?" he called. "Father?"

"Scorpius?" His mother emerged from the front parlor. "Scorpius, we didn't expect to see you today, dear," she said with surprise, coming over and embracing her. With a faint smile, he kissed her cheek.

"I got my examination results back," he said by way of explanation. She understood immediately.

"How wonderful!" she said with a smile that was infectious, even in Scorpius' current state of mind. "Draco! Scorpius is here! With his results!" she called down the hall as she ushered Scorpius into the front parlor. "You have to tell us everything, dear," she told her son warmly. Scorpius returned the smile until his father entered through the room's far door.

Scorpius met his father's impassive gray eyes and unconsciously stood a little straighter. Smiling encouragingly at her son, Astoria Malfoy took a few steps away from him, so that he could face both his parents at once.

Scorpius took a deep breath, then stated his news. "I – passed," he said, thinking somehow that it didn't sound as impressive as it had only ten minutes ago. "First out of my class of twenty." He directed the words to his father, and watched carefully for any kind of reaction, but Draco Malfoy gave none besides glancing down briefly. Scorpius struggled not to let his emotions show on his face.

"Scorpius, that's wonderful!" his mother said, hurrying forward to embrace him. "Congratulations! Draco?" she said, turning. "Isn't it wonderful?" Scorpius watched his father nod.

"It is an accomplishment," he said evenly.

"One to be proud of," he mother said after a brief hesitation, but that slight pause had been enough to set the room alive with tension. "This deserves a celebration!" his mother said, plunging forward valiantly. "Can you stay to supper, Scorpius?"

"I – have no other plans," he said, tearing his eyes away from his father.

"Excellent," she said warmly, but then her eyes flicked to her husband, as if expecting him to add something. When he did not, she picked up the conversation again, trying to steer Scorpius to a nearby sofa. "Is there going to be some sort of recognition at the Ministry?"

"There is a reception on Friday," he said. "For the families. You're both invited, I just have to let Auror Weasley know if you're coming. For – for numbers," he finished, and the excuse sounded as weak in his mouth as it had in his teacher's. And Draco Malfoy didn't miss its implications any more than his son had.

"You may tell – Auror Weasley," he said stiffly, "that he needn't worry about providing extra security at his function. We won't be attending." Scorpius said nothing. To try and argue that Auror Weasley hadn't been worried about that would have been pointless, as they both knew differently.

"Draco," his mother said softly, and Scorpius couldn't read the message in his mother's word, but apparently, his father could. Draco Malfoy sniffed and shifted his position, some emotion coming through to his face, but before Scorpius could identify it, it was gone.

"If we are having a celebratory dinner," he said, "then I'd best go alert Hilde."

"Draco, we can tell her any time," Astoria said, half amusement and half mild disapproval. "Why don't you come sit and talk with us?" Scorpius watched as his father gave a small, stiff smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"She'll want as much time as possible, and it won't take me a moment," he said, and then he had slipped from the room. Scorpius watched him go with a feeling that was decidedly like disappointment, but that he knew couldn't be, because how could he truly be disappointed when his father had fulfilled his exact expectations?

"Your father is proud of you, Scorpius," his mother said softly, a hand on his arm.

"All evidence to the contrary," Scorpius muttered, his eyes still on the doorway through which his father had disappeared. Scorpius' stiff formality had left when his father had left the room, replaced by frustration and a sullen sort of disgruntlement that added to his frustration, because he knew he should be able to control himself better than that.

Beside him, Astoria sighed almost inaudibly. "Your father may not show his pride in the usual way, but it's there," she said gently.

"Unfortunately, even with twenty years experience, finding it is not a skill I have mastered," he said in a clipped voice, shrugging away from his mother's touch to stare pensively out a window.

"Scorpius," she said as she came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He met her eyes in the reflection in the window, holding her gaze for a moment before looking away.

"I beat Harry Potter in a duel, Mum," Scorpius said softly, watching her reflection in the window carefully. Surprise and confusion and the smallest hint of fear flitted across her face before she schooled her expression more carefully. Scorpius turned and took her hands to explain. "In my final practical examination. I was paired up against Head Auror Harry Potter, and I won," he breathed. Somehow, saying it aloud made it that much more real. "And I can't tell him that because I have no idea how he'd take it!"

He dropped his mother's hands to walk the width of the room, trying to regain control over his frustration. "He doesn't want to color your choices," she said simply. Scorpius turned sharply, with a short, humorless laugh.

"Mother, I'm on the Force! I've been training for this for three years, I've passed my examinations, I'm in! How is telling me, to my face, that he's proud of me going to color my choices at this point?"

"He doesn't know," she said gently, moving fluidly across the room to where he stood. "And that's the point, Scorpius. By the time he was your age, he had made so many mistakes. He has spent his life trying to make up for them, but he could never afford to seem to be using your life for that, Scorpius." She gave him a sad smile and reached up to cup the side of his face. "Some day, you will understand. Until that time, take my word for it when I say that your father is proud of you. You are so different from him, but in many, many ways, you are so like him, too."

"And I suppose I'll have to take your word on that, too?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, unfazed by his sardonic tone. "But if it makes you feel any better, I am proud of you. And I may not be able to boast to many people, but I shall boast to Hilde and I shall boast to my mirror, and if he is very, very good, I may even boast to your father."

That earned a small smile from Scorpius, who leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek. "Thanks, Mum," he whispered.

"Come," she said with a smile. "Let's get Hilde to fuss over you, shall we? And you'll have to tell Honoria – she'll want to know."

Scorpius let his mother steer him out of the room, trying to mask the distressing train of thought she'd just sent him on. Because he also would have to Al know, but Al would probably already know because of his father, and other people would know because of their fathers, and what it all boiled down to was that the reception on Friday would probably end up in another face to face meeting with Rose.

And just like that, he was no longer looking forward to the event.

OOO

Under any other circumstances, the fact that Scorpius was not paying attention to his co-Head as she led the Prefects meeting would have been a source of great embarrassment to him. But as he had already graduated, and this was his last Prefects meeting, and there wasn't that much to talk about that Rose couldn't handle on her own, and he had quite a lot on his mind, he thought his lack of focus could be excused.

Yesterday, he had officially finished his education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and this morning he had gotten into a boat with Rose Weasley and Al Potter and left the school in much the same way they had first entered it – amid an awkward and preoccupied silence.

The silence had stemmed from the fact that he and Rose hadn't spoken in five days, and that neither of them had wanted Al to know that, even while both of them knew full well that Al was shrewd and observant enough to figure it out.

And the reason that he and Rose hadn't spoken in all that time was because when they had spoken five days ago, Scorpius, after sitting on the information for two and a half years, had told Rose that he was in love with her. And the conversation that followed had not gone as he would have wished. Or, if he was honest with himself, as he had expected.

As Rose thanked the Prefects for a year of dedication and hard work, Scorpius replayed their last conversation over yet again in his head.

Scorpius had spent the last two and a half years supplying reason after reason for why he hadn't told Rose his feelings, but as the end of their NEWT week had come to a close, Scorpius' excuses had been wearing thin, and he'd known it. As had Al, who had spent much of the past year reminding him that time was running out, and whenever Scorpius had worried that she wouldn't return his feelings, Al had assured him that such would not be the case.

Scorpius hadn't yet told Al that he'd made his admission, for the simple reason that what Al had assured him would never happen was exactly what had.

Also . . . there was something . . . not right about what she'd said, or rather, what she'd implied. That feeling had been growing over the past five days. It had first come around about twenty minutes after the encounter, when Al had cornered him and he had evaded answering Al's ever-present question about whether or not he'd told her yet. He'd been vague, and simply let Al make assumptions as he would, and as soon as Al had left, Scorpius had realized with a jolt that that was exactly what Rose had done to him.

He was more certain of it every time he replayed the conversation in his head.

He had asked her for a private word. Then, once they were alone, he had told her that he was in love with her. When she had appeared to be at a loss for words, he had quickly said that he wasn't expecting a response; he'd just wanted her to know, and that she had no need to feel obligated to respond right away. Then, looking crestfallen, she had told him that she cared about him more than anyone, and she didn't want him to think that she didn't care. Finishing her thought, he had said "But you don't feel the same way." She had shaken her head and apologized, and then he had left.

Never had she said she didn't love him. The head shake could have been to confirm his statement or refute it. The apology could have been for anything. She had never said that she didn't love him. She had let him make assumptions and fill in the blanks.

No. He was more certain of it every time he replayed the scene. Something was wrong. There was something she wasn't saying, something she was keeping from him, and he needed to know what it was.

He hadn't expected her to say no. It was that simple. For all that he'd confessed that worry to Al, in his heart, he truly believed that she loved him like he loved her. It was in a million different tiny moment over the past year alone. It was in Al's confidence, Al, who knew her better than almost anyone in the world. It was, sappy as it sounded, in the strength of his feelings for her, because something that strong just couldn't not be reciprocated.

With a jolt, he realized that the meeting was over, and the Prefects were all filing out of the compartment. Mainly, he realized that Rose was no longer by his side. With a silent curse, he craned his neck above the sea of people swarming out into the corridor, trying to spot her telltale head of hair. He caught sight of her as she slipped out the doors with the Ravenclaw Prefects. He cursed again, audibly this time. She'd rather leave the compartment in shambles to be cleaned up later than spend any time alone with him? This rather confirmed his fears. There was something she was keeping from him.

He waited for the crowd to thin, then made his own way out, slipping past random students, eyes peeled for her as he made his way down the train. A few compartments in, he found her, deep in conversation with a couple of Ravenclaw girls.

"Rose!" he called, and watched as she deliberately didn't answer him. Feeling slightly angry and bewildered, he called out again as he came up beside her. "Rose!"

After a slight hesitation, she turned to him, a forced smile on her face. "Yes?" she asked.

"You disappeared after the meeting," he said, breathing hard from his jog down the train. "I couldn't catch you." She took a deep breath, clearly steadying herself.

"Do you need something?" she asked. He stared at her, completely at a loss for why she was acting this way with him. It couldn't just be because he'd made things awkward by admitting his feelings, could it?

"Rose," he started, but then noticed that they were being watched sidelong by the Ravenclaw girls now inside the compartment. He shook his head. This was not a conversation he wanted to have in the open. "Come here," he said, taking her by the wrist and leading her back toward the compartment they'd just left."Rose," he said again, after they were inside and he had shut the compartment door. "I don't want to bring this up–"

"Then you probably shouldn't," she said immediately, pushing past him to start gathering the things still scattered about the compartment. He sighed. She wasn't going to make this easy, which he'd been afraid of. If she really was hiding something from him, she'd try to give him the brush off. Well, he wasn't about to allow that.

"Rose, I've been thinking about our – conversation," he said hesitantly. "And I've realized that – well, I did all the talking. You . . . never really said anything."

There was a heavy pause before she said, "Scorpius, can we please not do this again?" He crossed his arms and steadying himself as he watched her back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I have to know."

"You do know," she insisted nervously. "You said it yourself." And she turned then and tried to push past him to the compartment door.

"Exactly," he said, taking one step and blocking her path. "I said it. You didn't."

"But it was still said!" she said, and she looked close to panicking, and he couldn't figure out why. "You have your answer, Scorpius, please let me go."

"No," he said stubbornly.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him, and it half sounded like a plead. It was the pleading that won the truth from him.

"Because I didn't expect you to say no," he said simply. "Everything I'd seen and heard from people . . . Rose, just –" He sighed, frustrated. "It didn't match up. I didn't expect you to say no."

"I did," she whispered. He shook his head.

"No," he said, his voice firmer. "You didn't. Say it now, if that's your answer." Her eyes darted from his face to the doors and back. His stomach plummeted. She looked ready to bolt. He might have spared a moment to pity her if this hadn't been an indication that whatever was wrong was a lot more serious than he'd originally thought.

"Scorpius," she pleaded.

"Say it," he said, and his voice was stony now. She set her jaw and glared at him.

"Let me go," she insisted.

"Say it!" he demanded, tension building every time she evaded his answer. They were only inches apart now.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

"Tell me you don't love me and I will!" he said angrily, gripping her wrist. The only times she was this evasive were when she was trying to avoid lying to him. The thought that she might be on the edge of doing so now angered him. If she didn't love him, why not say it? And if she did, why pretend otherwise?

"Scorpius!"

"Say it!"

"How could a Weasley ever love a Malfoy?"

The silence after her angry words rang horribly. Scorpius staggered backward, staring at her in horrified shock, completely unable to draw breath. He felt like she'd just slapped him.

Never, not once since their first meeting on the train, had they ever used their families against one another.

He met her eyes, searching for any sign of horror on her part, any remorse or apology or anything that would tell him that she didn't mean it, couldn't have possibly meant what she'd just said. There was another explanation for it, there had to be.

But there was nothing in her eyes, nothing but anger and a hard unyielding determination that filled him with fury, disgust, and, above all, utter humiliation. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked out.

He truly wanted to be able to leave her behind, but he couldn't. Because just leaving wasn't enough. Not for her. Not for what she'd just done. He was furious with himself, for being deceived so easily and so completely, but even more than that, he was furious with her, so angry he could burst or attack someone or perform an Unforgivable. Never in his entire life had he felt such rage. She couldn't have hurt him more if she'd planned it. She had humiliated him. She'd been having him on for years, clearly, and just walking out of her life wasn't enough to punish her for that. He would have the upper hand in all this, the last word, no matter what it took.

He was barely two steps out the door when he reached this conclusion, and in another heartbeat, he had turned once more. She was right where he had left her. Roughly, angrily, he grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall of the compartment, not fully knowing what he was going to do.

It was her mouth opening in shock that did it. He didn't want to hear anything else out of that foul mouth, so he silenced her.

He had dreamed of kissing Rose Weasley almost endlessly for two and a half years. He had never dreamed of kissing her like this. There was nothing gentle or passionate or loving in the kiss he forced on her. It was rough and angry and hot and punishing. It was an incoherent scream, it was all the pain and mortification she'd just inflicted on him, returned to her tenfold. He refused to accept it, not from the likes of her. It was a kiss of betrayal, of fury, of hatred. He wanted to hurt her, as much as she'd hurt him.

He all but shoved himself away from her, and when he looked at her, it was in disgust.

"And that's the last thing I am ever going to say to you," he growled at her, releasing her sharply, not caring if he hurt her. Taking one step away, he looked her up and down with disgust. "You are not who I thought you were."

And then he was gone, getting as far away from her as possible. And it still wasn't enough, and he knew it, but he didn't dare stay to do any more because he knew he wouldn't have been able to control it. And he knew that the longer he stayed, the longer there was a chance she might say or do something to make her forgive him.

And if Scorpius Malfoy knew one thing as he walked out of her life for good, it was that he was never going to forgive Rose Weasley for this, not as long as he lived.

OOO

The Auror Welcoming Reception had been going on for little more than an hour, and already Scorpius was wondering how long it would be before he could leave without seeming rude. If it hadn't been for the few people in the room who were openly proud of his accomplishment for what it was, he'd have been gone long before then. Between accepting the somewhat dubious congratulations of most of the people there, enduring only half-joking comments about whether or not his father had put him up to all this, and trying to avoid Rose Weasley, Scorpius was more than ready to leave the glittering hall behind him.

Rose Weasley. Scorpius sighed. If someone had told him three years ago, he would never have believed that she had the potential to leave so much destruction in her wake. Her impromptu World Tour had been a blessing in disguise for him, but from the moment she'd returned, she'd turned every aspect of his life completely on its head. He couldn't come to work without worrying that he might randomly run into her in a corridor. He couldn't accept a lunch with Al for fear that she'd have been invited along. And, most irritating of all, he'd been finding it harder and harder to listen to plans for his upcoming Bonding.

Because somehow, inexplicably, even after everything that had happened and everything he now knew to be true, he was still in love with her. This he considered to be the ultimate betrayal. She had betrayed him. She had lied to him, strung him along, broken his heart with her cruelty, yet he couldn't manage to fall out of love with her. It was infuriating! In two weeks, he would be Bonding himself to Honoria Ridgeton, a girl he respected, a girl he could talk to, a girl with whom he was an equal. His mind was firmly decided, his choice was made, and yet, the closer he drew to his Bonding, the more often he was plagued by a dream of a church corridor ending in two doors and the words "Trust your heart."

He supposed he could pin much of the blame on Al. Al had no idea what had conspired between the two of them three years ago because neither Scorpius nor Rose had told him. Al didn't even know that Scorpius had admitted his feelings; though, why Rose would never have told him was something Scorpius couldn't fathom, not that he'd spent a great deal of time trying to. But he had wondered.

But Al, not knowing the cause of their falling out, had become more and more meddlesome as the summer had worn on, arranging surprise meetings, and just in general, forcing the two of them to spend more time with one another than Scorpius would have thought possible for two people so obviously wishing to avoid each other. It was highly irritating, and more than once, Scorpius had been tempted to tell Al to back off. He'd restrained himself only by reminding himself that Al had no way to know how painful each meeting with Rose Weasley really was, and that was because Scorpius hadn't told him.

With a jolt, Scorpius realized that instead of paying attention to the Ministry official who was offering more congratulations, he'd been watching Rose Weasley from across the room as she talked to one of her father's colleagues. With a scowl, he forced his attention back to the Auror speaking to him.

"I wonder how your father takes your accomplishment?" the man asked with an edge to his voice. Scorpius schooled his features into an expression of politeness.

"He was surprised by my choice, but he is proud of the things I've accomplished." The man nodded with a look of polite incredulity that rankled.

"Well, he would have to be, wouldn't he?" the Auror said, insinuating a whole host of things that Scorpius had been hearing all evening.

"Yes, well," he said, looking for some kind of escape. With a feeling of great relief, he saw Al making his way toward them. "Thank you very much," Scorpius told the Auror with faked sincerity, "but I have a small matter of business I have to take care of, so if you'll excuse me?" And in a single, fluid movement, he had nodded politely to the man, intercepted Al's progress across the room, and steered him out into the hallway.

"Where are we going?" Al asked him in an undertone.

"To discuss something privately before I do something guaranteed to get my acceptance into the Auror program revoked," Scorpius said through the smile still pasted on his face.

"Ah," Al said in immediate understanding. "They are a bit much, aren't they?" Scorpius grimaced.

"I can't say I wasn't expecting it," he murmured as they turned the corner into a darkened corridor. "But still."

"Here," Al said, opening one of the doors that lined the wall. With a wave of his wand, the lamps in the room flared to life, revealing a small office. He and Scorpius stepped inside and each perched on one of the desks crammed inside. They sat for a few moments in companionable silence, and Scorpius was reminded of all the hours they'd spent at Hogwarts in such a manner. For the briefest of moments, Scorpius caught himself longing for those days again, before his life became complicated, back when he and Al and Rose were the closest trio of students Hogwarts had seen since Al and Rose's parents had been there, back when his biggest worry was mastering Professor McGonagall's latest spell and falling in love was something he barely thought twice about.

Al's voice shook him from his reverie. "So, I was thinking maybe you and I could catch lunch sometime this week, to celebrate." Scorpius smiled. "I'll invite Rose, and –" The smile fell from Scorpius' face.

"Could you please stop doing that?" he asked Al softly. Al looked taken aback for a moment, but then he hardened his face into a look of determined innocence.

"What?" he asked. "Try to get my two best friends to speak to one another again?"

"You don't know what happened," Scorpius muttered, staring at the carpet, his mouth set in a hard line.

"According to Rose, all that happened is that you two drifted apart, and it seems to me that the natural solution to that is to spend time together again, and so –"

"I'm getting Bonded in two weeks," Scorpius said abruptly, cutting Al off. In a softer voice, he said, "Please stop trying to play matchmaker." Then he risked looking up at Al, who had his mouth open to speak, clearly on the defensive. Scorpius headed him off. "And don't tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about. We both know you're smarter than that." Al turned his head away, the look on his face dark.

"The Bonding's still on then?" he asked, his tone unreadable. Scorpius refrained from rolling his eyes or snapping.

"Yes," he said shortly. "There's no reason why it wouldn't be." The dark look on Al's face deepened.

"There is, actually, a reason why," he said in a tight voice. "A fairly good reason, if I remember correctly." Scorpius shifted, suddenly wishing he'd stayed at the party and fought that fight, because at least that one would have ended with the evening's end.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again," he said flatly, straightening. He had absolutely no qualms about leaving Al unceremoniously if it meant avoiding this particular argument, which had, over the course of the summer, grown very old indeed.

"Because I'm right!" Al shouted at him. "And you know it!"

"Right about what, Al?" Scorpius demanded, turning on his heel to face him. "Right to meddle in everyone's lives? Right to constantly try and reorder the world if it's not panning out quite the way you'd like? Is that what you're right about, Al?"

"You know damned well what I'm right about," Al snarled. If Scorpius hadn't been so angry, he would have been taken aback by Al's tone. "I can't, in good conscience, stand by and watch you Bond yourself to someone you care nothing about!"

"I do care about Honoria," Scorpius shot back immediately. "I care about her a great deal, and I have all the respect in the world for her –"

"I'm sorry; I didn't hear you say anything about love," Al sneered. Scorpius bit back an angry response. Standing here shouting at Al wasn't going to help anything.

"Excuse me," he said in a clipped tone and turned to exit the room.

"I won't excuse you. I can't excuse you!" Al growled then. "I can't believe you're really going to marry someone else in two weeks when you're in love with my cousin!" Scorpius looked away, jaw set, trying to find a way to avoid what Al had just said.

"I'm not marrying her," Scorpius tried to say, but Al cut him off.

"That's what this means, and you know it, so don't bother debating semantics with me! And I still don't understand how you could do something like this! You are in love with the same person you were in love with three years ago, and it's not Honoria Ridgeton! I know you, so don't try to tell me that's not true! How can you do this to Rose, to Honoria? How is it fair to either of them?" Al demanded.

"I am done with this conversation," he said again, teeth clenched as he forced himself to stay calm, moving once more for the doorway.

"She loves you, Scorpius!" Al's voice rang out. Scorpius froze, his heart constricting painfully at his best friend's words. It was with difficulty that Scorpius found his voice.

"Rose doesn't love me," he said softly, not turning around. "She showed me that, Al, three years ago, and I can't waste my life on someone who doesn't love me."

"Then why are you Bonding yourself to Honoria?" Al challenged immediately. Scorpius spun to face him, mouth open, reading to argue, but Al didn't give him the choice. He took another few steps toward Scorpius and looked at him earnestly. "Rose lied to you, Scorpius," Al said, softer. "I don't know why, but she did. She loves you; she's loved you for years, I don't even know how long, but I do know that she still does, and that spending time with you this summer has been slowly killing her!"

"Then it's a wonder you've been shoving us together for the past two months!" Scorpius snapped, finally at his breaking point. He'd had enough, and Al's hypocrisy, though Scorpius believed it was unintentional, was more than he could stand. All the irritation he'd felt toward Al's meddling and matchmaking this summer finally came boiling up and spilling out. "Listen up, Al. My life doesn't need your hand in it, and I doubt very much that Rose's does, so do us both a favor and back off!"

"Well, maybe if the two of you could get your lives together on your own, I'd be able to!" Al snapped.

His hands clenched into fists, Scorpius opened his mouth to respond, but a knock on the doorframe stopped him.

Startled, he turned to see Rose Weasley standing in the doorway, glaring at Al and looking more furious than Scorpius could ever remember seeing her. As the entirety of the situation hit him, Scorpius could feel the blood drain from his face. How long had she been standing in the corridor, he thought wildly, and how much had she overheard?

"Scorpius, my dad is looking for you," she said then, without taking her eyes from Al. "Your absence is becoming conspicuous." With a swallow, Scorpius nodded and made a swift exit, his cheeks now starting to burn. He strode quickly down the marble hall, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the disaster that had just happened as possible.

He was halfway back to the party when the implications of what had just happened finally caught up with him, and his curiosity began to get the better of him. He slowed and finally stopped as he wondered how much truth had been in Al's words. Was it . . . possible that Rose really did love him? That she had lied to him?

He couldn't bring himself to believe it. With a shake of his head to clear it, he resumed his trip back to the celebration, but he had barely covered a few paces before the niggling sense in the back of his brain made itself known again.

He couldn't bring himself to believe that Rose had lied to him, and yet . . . if she had . . . there were too many things that it would explain, were it true.

But why? That was the question, and it was one Al hadn't answered. Did Al even know? If Scorpius had let Al go on, what sort of proof would he have eventually offered? Had Rose admitted to loving Scorpius in Al's presence? Admitted to lying to him? Or was all this just something Al had intuited, not necessarily right? And what about what she'd said on the train? If she really loved him, why would she have ever said something like that? And how could she have looked like she meant it, when she'd never been able to successfully lie to him?

Standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, Scorpius growled with frustration and glanced back the way he'd come. If he was honest with himself, he wanted to know what was being said in that room right now, much as he would have claimed he did not. It may have been masochistic, but Al had raised too many questions, and Scorpius knew that the only place he was going to find answers was back in that room.

In another heartbeat, he was doubling back the way he'd come, pulling out his wand as he went and casting the strongest non-verbal Disillusionment charm he was capable of. As he approached the one lit room in an otherwise darkened corridor, he slowed, heart pounding as he crept silently toward the office door with all the stealth that three years of Auror training had given him.

". . . the only thing enabling him to be Bonded to her while in love with someone else was the knowledge that that someone else did not love him in return," Rose was saying angrily.

"But –"

"As long," she said loudly, speaking over Al's interruption, "as there was no way his feelings could be returned, he could still respect her and himself in this union."

"But you do love him!" Al insisted stubbornly. Scorpius' heart pounded in his throat as he pressed himself against the cool wall, waiting for Rose's response.

"That's not the point!" she exclaimed loudly, clearly frustrated.

"But you don't deny it!"

"God, Al, is that what you want?" she asked with a hint of desperation in her voice. "For me to admit that I love him? All right! Yes! I love him! Okay? I love him! I've loved him for years! Are you happy now?"

Scorpius could hardly breathe. Hearing it from Al had been one thing. He could perhaps have ignored it, coming from Al, written it off as another desperate attempt at matchmaking. But hearing it straight from Rose's mouth was another thing entirely. That he couldn't ignore.

She loves me, he thought, bewildered, his mind whirring non-stop as he tried to accept this new piece of information. Through his haze of confusion, he barely registered that Al was speaking, let alone what he best friend was saying. Then why . . . ?

Then he heard a bitter laugh from Rose, and then she said, "You don't know what I did, Al," she said shortly. "I'm lucky he's willing to talk to me. You don't know what I did."

Al's response was so quiet Scorpius couldn't hear what it was. But he did catch Rose's next words.

"I broke his heart," she said simply. "I did it cruelly, I did it thoroughly . . . and I did it on purpose." Scorpius felt as though the world as he'd known it for the past three years was coming crashing down all around him while he stood frozen to the spot, unable to move. On . . . purpose? he thought faintly. His breathing was suddenly very shallow, and his heart was pounding painfully in his throat, and he heard her next words as if from a great distance. "I have never been what my father wanted me to be, Al. I'm a Ravenclaw who'd rather spend a night in the Forbidden Forest than have to get on a broomstick, and the biggest adventure I've ever had was almost getting strangled by the Venomous Tentacula in third year Herbology. I have spent my life disappointing him. Can you imagine what he would have gone through if I had ever brought a Malfoy home? He would never have forgiven me."

"So . . . you . . . ?" Al said quietly, after an unbearably long pause.

"It was the only way," she whispered desperately. Scorpius had to strain to catch her words. "If I proved to him that I wasn't anyone to waste time or love on, he'd eventually move on. It was the only way to ensure that he'd end up happy." Rose's voice broke on the last word, and that roused Scorpius from his stupor. He acted without thinking, pushing himself away from the wall, fully intending to go into the office, and take Rose in his arms and tell her that it was all right, that he understood, that he forgave everything. He wanted to tell her that he still loved her, that she could have a second chance, that the only way he would be truly happy would be with her in his life.

But then Al spoke again."Why not just be with him?" he asked, and the question woke Scorpius' brain from its emotion-fogged state, and he stilled, waiting for her answer.

"Because it wouldn't have worked!" she said. "He would have given up everything for me, Al; you know he would have. I wouldn't have, don't you see that? I wouldn't have given up everything for him. I wasn't brave enough. I didn't love him enough. And even if I had, with time, we would have regretted it. We would have had to sever ties with everyone, Al, and slowly, regretting would have turned to resenting, and it would have pulled us apart." Her words cut straight to his heart, not in the least because they were true, and, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that.

"But things are different now," he heard Al whispered.

"Not different enough," was Rose's anguished response. "And it's too late. I love him. And that's why I can't be with him, even if he should come after me now. If he left Honoria to pursue me, and I accepted him, the same thing would happen. He'd regret breaking his promise to her for the rest of his life, and that regret would slowly turn to resentment. I can't let that happen."

As her words sunk in, Scorpius found himself sliding down the length of the wall, sitting heavily on the ground, his head in his hands, full of more anguish than he could ever have imagined possible. God, she was right, she was right, and it killed him.

He could hear the continued murmur of voices coming out of the office, but the words no longer held any meaning for him.

She loved him. She'd loved him for years, maybe even as long as he'd loved her. She loved him, and they could never be together. Those were the only real things in his world at that moment.

For his last two years at school, Scorpius had known that if Rose returned his feelings, he would, as she had said, have given up everything for her. He would have negated the arrangement with the Ridgetons, faced his father's wrath, all of it, if he could only have her. And for one brief, shining moment that night, he'd truly thought he'd regained that truth, somehow. But Rose's good sense had prevailed, as it always did, as it always had.

Everything she'd done, everything she'd said . . . it had all been in an effort to save him from this moment, from this choice, and from the anguish he was feeling. And he had to take a moment to recognize that she'd done it, as she did everything, brilliantly. She'd done the one thing guaranteed to make him hate her forever. Anything less than using his family against him, and he would have eventually seen through it. But not this.

She was right. She'd been right all along. They would never have worked. And in two weeks, he'd be promised to someone else, and that would be the end of it.

And yet . . . a stubborn spark of hope remained, one glimmer that refused to die. Because maybe she hadn't meant it. Maybe he could still make it work.

He barely noticed when Al rushed past him where he sat, slumped on the floor. But when Rose followed just moments later, his whole body tensed. He had to know. He had to know.

With a flick of her wand and no backward glance, she extinguished the lamps even as he rose clumsily to his feet, and followed her.

She didn't return to the party. She turned the opposite way instead and headed for the nearest exit the Ministry offered. Scorpius followed her the whole way, stealthily, not removing the Disillusionment charm because he hadn't decided what he was going to do yet. His whole body felt on fire with the knowledge he now had.

As she approached the door leading outside, he knew he was losing his chance. "Rose?" he said, speaking her name almost before he'd decided what he was going to do.

Slowly, she turned, and didn't seem at all surprised to see him. The look on her face was one of immense sadness, and it brought a pang to Scorpius' heart. He wanted so badly to alleviate that sadness, and he knew that he couldn't, not unless she'd let him. He realized she was waiting for him to say something.

"Your dad sent me to see if you were all right. When you didn't come back to the party, he was worried," he said, surprising himself with how smoothly the small lie fell from his mouth.

"I'm fine," she said quietly. "I just . . . I need to go. Tell him I'm not feeling well, that I went home, would you?" she pleaded softly. Scorpius nodded.

"Of course." She gave him a small, sad smile and stepped over the threshold of the open door, and he knew he couldn't let her leave. He just had to ask. "Rose?" She stopped but did not turn. "Did you mean it?" he asked quietly. "What you said to Al?"

There was an unbearably long pause where he waited for her answer, fully aware that if she asked which part he meant, he wouldn't be able to answer. Finally she spoke, so softly that he almost didn't hear it. "Every word," she whispered.

With a pang of regret and resignation, he nodded, though she couldn't see him, and stepped back into shadow, to return to the party. Then he heard his name.

"Scorpius?" He turned back quickly, meeting her eyes desperately, not even sure what he was hoping she might say. She was silent for a long time, clearly searching for the right thing to say. With another pang, he saw that her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," she finally said.

Twenty-four hours ago, that would never have been enough. Not from her, not after what she'd done. But now . . . things were different, almost beyond recognition. He knew that there were a thousand different possible endings to her apology. He knew that he should ask her to clarify. He knew he should need more than that, should demand more than that.

But all he did was nod, returning her sad smile with one of his own. Because he didn't need more. He knew what she meant. He understood all too well. And in that instant, he took some of that deep-rooted sadness of hers into himself, a weight he knew they would both bear probably for the rest of their lives.

In two weeks, he would Bond himself to Honoria. In a year, they would wed. There was no way around it, he knew that now. He could never live with himself if he backed out of that promise, and she would never accept him if he did. He watched her go with a sense that, unfortunately, things were right now, in the only way it was possible for them to be right. Maybe if they'd just acted sooner . . . but they hadn't, and this was the only way. He watched her go, and he let her go.

And that night, for the first time, he dreamt that he chose the blue door. But the door would not open, no matter how hard he pulled at the knob. That door was forever shut to him, and as he examined it closely, he realized that it was because it wasn't truly a door at all, just a knob attached to a wall. It had never truly been a choice.

When his dream self realized this, he fell to his knees in anguish, and stared up at the writing on the wall, which had also changed. It no longer urged him to follow his heart. It now bore only the words I'm sorry. And Scorpius knew that that would have to be enough, even as he knew that it never could be.


To be continued.

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