"Rose?" Auntie Ginny's alarmed voice cracked like a whip through the Potters' cozy living room, as Rose threw out her arms and fell forward onto the carpeted floor. "I didn't know you were coming over!"

Rose clambered to her feet, dusting off her sooty pajamas. "I—I didn't tell anyone," she said; her voice came out oddly strangled.

Auntie Ginny set the Evening Prophet aside, sitting up straighter in her armchair. "Is everything all right, sweetheart?" she asked with a worried frown.

"Yes," Rose said quickly, averting her eyes. "Everything's fine."

Auntie Ginny nodded slowly, looking unconvinced. "Well…Lily's in her room, of course, but James and Al are at the Cauldron for drinks with the Wood brothers tonight—"

"Actually," Rose interrupted, biting her lip, "I was wondering…is Uncle Harry awake?"

Auntie Ginny looked surprised. Nonetheless, she didn't question Rose further. That was Rose's favorite thing about her godmother; she never badgered Rose.

"He's in his study," she told Rose with a small smile, before picking up the Prophet again and smoothing it out.

"Thanks," Rose said gratefully, setting off in the direction of Chez Potter's spiral staircase. She took the stairs two at a time, hurrying down the corridor and coming to a standstill outside the last door. Raising her hand, she knocked twice.

"Come in," called a tired voice.

Rose seized the door handle and swung open the door.

"Rose!" Her godfather looked just as surprised to see her as her godmother had, as he stood up from his chair to give her a hug. "Your parents didn't say you were coming!"

"They didn't know I was until a minute ago," Rose said sullenly, flinging herself onto the chair opposite Uncle Harry's desk. She looked at him. "And neither did I," she added darkly.

Uncle Harry shot her an amused glance, as he sat back down. "You got back from Italy barely two days ago," he said, shaking his head. "You couldn't wait a little longer to start picking fights with them?"

Rose glared at him. "You're my godfather! You're supposed to be on my side!"

Uncle Harry rolled his eyes. "Tell me what the matter is, then."

Rose stared at him, chin quivering. Then, she burst out, "Everything!"

And she began to explain: her father's anger, his irrational refusal to give Scorpius a chance, her mother's uncharacteristic silence during the whole ordeal…Rose watched her uncle's expression morph from bewildered, to understanding, and then finally, back to amused.

"So he's being a hypocrite!" Rose finished angrily, throwing her hands in the air. "After nineteen years of teaching me not to judge a book by its cover, he goes and does just that! It couldn't matter less to him that Scorpius makes me deliriously happy! I mean, you've met Scorpius, Uncle Harry! He and Albus have been friends since fifth year! You know he's a perfectly nice bloke!"

"Rose," Uncle Harry sighed. "Nice bloke though he may be, at the end of the day, he's still Draco Malfoy's son. It's going to take your parents longer than a ten-minute conversation to warm up to the idea of the two of you being in a relationship."

"That's what Mum said," Rose huffed, glowering.

"Well, she's right," Uncle Harry agreed. "And I'm sorry, but it certainly doesn't help your case that the two of you spent a year together in Italy doing Merlin-knows-what when you weren't working," he added sternly, and Rose blushed. "I'm guessing your father didn't take too well to that piece of information?"

"No," Rose muttered; Uncle Harry chuckled. "But that wasn't even the worst part!" she continued furiously, recalling the final moments of the conversation. "He was willing to talk, up until I mentioned Scorpius's parents. Then, he just told me to go to my room!"

Uncle Harry raised his eyebrows. "What exactly did you say about Scorpius's parents?"

Rose shrugged. "I told Mum and Dad that Scorpius and I went to Malfoy Manor to tell them first…and then, Dad got all red and blotchy, and Mum just froze up."

For several, long moments, Uncle Harry didn't respond. Rose looked up; he was wearing an expression of mingled shock and disbelief.

Rose frowned. "Uncle Harr—?"

"You went to Malfoy Manor with Scorpius?"

Rose blinked, and a wave of déjà vu swept over her. "Yes," she said, for a second time. "So what?"

Uncle Harry sighed loudly, climbing to his feet and running a hand through his graying hair. He began to pace the length of the study, behind his desk; Rose watched him, stomach twisting.

Then, suddenly— "Rose, what do you actually know about the Malfoys?"

Rose started. "What?"

Uncle Harry had stopped pacing and was now standing with his hands on the back of his chair, considering her seriously.

"What do you know about the Malfoy family?" he repeated.

Rose shook her head, bewildered. "I…I know that they were Voldemort-supporters," she said slowly. "I know that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, and I know that he was responsible for what happened with Auntie Ginny and the Chamber of Secrets in her first year." Uncle Harry nodded, his expression darkening slightly. "And I know that Draco Malfoy was a git to you, Mum, and Dad at school because you were Harry Potter, Mum was a Muggle-born, and Dad was a Weasley," Rose finished, considering her uncle curiously.

Uncle Harry nodded again. Then, he sighed deeply. "Rose," he said softly, "Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, too."

Rose's mind stuttered to a stop. "What?" she gasped. "But—but he was your age!"

Uncle Harry rubbed his stubble, looking pained. "When Lucius Malfoy was arrested and thrown into Azkaban along with a number of other Death Eaters, the June of my fifth year, Voldemort was furious," he explained. "And he knew that the worst punishment would be to hold Lucius's son accountable…so that's exactly what he did."

Rose gazed at her uncle in horror, feeling sick to her stomach.

"Young, proud, and naïve, Draco took the Dark Mark when he was sixteen," Uncle Harry continued quietly. He paused, turning to stare out of the study room window with a hard expression. "He made a lot of…mistakes. He came to fear the title."

Rose stared at her godfather, lost for words.

Uncle Harry snapped his attention back onto her. "Do you know of Scorpius's grandmother, Narcissa Malfoy?"

Rose jumped, rather disconcerted by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Erm—yeah," she said. "Scorpius told me that she and Lucius Malfoy live in France half the year, now."

"Yes…well, Narcissa had two older sisters," Uncle Harry explained. "Bellatrix and Andromeda."

Rose let the information wash over her, heart racing. "Bellatrix?" she whispered, meeting Uncle Harry's gaze. "Bellatrix Lestrange? Voldemort's right hand?"

Uncle Harry nodded curtly. "She was Scorpius's great aunt, before she was killed in the Battle."

Rose's mind was working so furiously that she thought it might explode. "And Andromeda…" Rose trailed off. Then, suddenly, it clicked. She faced Uncle Harry in disbelief. "Not Mrs. Tonks!" she exclaimed.

Uncle Harry smiled grimly. "The very same," he said. "Teddy and Scorpius are second cousins. Although, as far as I'm aware, Andromeda doesn't consider them family."

Rose couldn't breathe.

Uncle Harry straightened his shoulders and resumed his pacing. "The Malfoys were always more than just Voldemort-supporters, Rose," he said in an eerily stony tone. "Lucius Malfoy was among Voldemort's most prized lieutenants, along with the Lestranges."

Rose shook her head, blindly willing all of this information to be untrue.

"The Malfoys only escaped Azkaban because I testified on their behalf," Uncle Harry continued in the same steely voice. "Narcissa Malfoy saved my life during the Battle, so in spite of everything, I didn't think that their family deserved to spend the rest of their lives rotting behind bars." He looked at Rose, his green eyes glinting strangely. "However, I will never, ever forget the terrible things they condoned."

Rose shivered involuntarily.

"During the height of the second war, when your parents and I were on the run, Voldemort put a taboo on his name," Uncle Harry told her. "Using his name broke protective enchantments, it caused a kind of magical disturbance—the word was a key to the speaker's location."

Rose blinked. "How did that help him?"

Uncle Harry let out a humorless laugh. "It helped him a great deal, Rose," he said bleakly. "It's different now, but back then, the only people who ever spoke his name were the ones who were serious about taking him down. Anyway," he continued, "One time, when your parents and I were in hiding, I…used the name by accident," he revealed, in a very hard voice.

Rose gaped at him. "You…you were caught?"

"We were caught," Uncle Harry confirmed. "We were caught by a gang of Voldemort-sympathizers and brought to the Death Eaters' unofficial headquarters." He stopped pacing for a second time and looked Rose straight in the eye. "Malfoy Manor."

Rose's heart plummeted to her feet. "No," she whispered.

"Yes," Uncle Harry said heavily, sounding profusely apologetic.

Rose swallowed the lump in her throat. "What…happened there?" she asked, although she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to know.

Uncle Harry hesitated. "I don't feel comfortable going into details without your parents' permission," he said quietly, and Rose's chest constricted painfully. "But I'll tell you this—Bellatrix Lestrange was involved, and long story short, if you knew what your parents and I—and a few of our friends—went through at that house, you would more than understand why your dad reacted the way he did when he found out that you visited it."

Rose covered her face with her hands, utterly ashamed.

Uncle Harry sighed, coming around the desk. "Rosie," he said gently, kneeling down in front of her chair and pulling her into a tight hug. Immediately, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. "I've no doubt that Scorpius is a great bloke, but it's going to take more than my word to convince your parents that he'll be a great boyfriend."

It was a full two minutes before Rose drew back, trembling and white-faced.

"Uncle Harry, Scorpius isn't my boyfriend," she said in a strangled whisper; Uncle Harry frowned. "He's my fiancé."

"Hermione, I need your help with that Howler spell!" Ron said angrily, from where he was sitting in his armchair, scribbling out a letter with such ferocity that Hermione was surprised that he hadn't yet ripped the parchment in half.

Hermione knelt down by the fireplace with her wand, siphoning off some of the excess soot that Rose had deposited on the carpet. "Ron, please," she sighed. "I've told you, I'm not going to—"

"Hermione!" Ron sounded outraged. "How can you possibly take Rose's side on this? How can you forgive that boy for taking her to Malfoy Manor, of all places?"

Hermione closed her eyes tightly, but did not turn around. Reflexively, she reached up and brushed the thin, white scar on her throat—Bellatrix's parting gift.

Swallowing, she faced the flickering fireplace again, directing her wand at it; the flames grew higher, warming the atmosphere. Then, unexpectedly, she noticed a glimmer of silver out of the corner of her eye and she glanced around, frowning.

She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Lying on the hearth, barely a foot away from the fireplace grate, was a diamond ring.

"Draco, it's been two days. If you aren't going to come clean with him, I will."

Draco sat up suddenly in bed and glared at his wife. "Astoria, you have absolutely no right—"

"To what, Draco?" she demanded, eyes flashing. "To tell my son things that he deserves to know?"

Draco closed his eyes, clenching his teeth and releasing a slow breath. "I don't want him to marry this girl," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm hoping that if we force a little distance—"

"That's not how this works, Draco, and you know it," Astoria said angrily. "He's been sitting alone in his room for two whole days, and he's barely eaten a thing. I've been patient with you because I know you aren't happy about this, but—"

"Not happy?" he yelled in a strangled voice. "Astoria, I'm furious!"

"I don't care," Astoria snarled. "You're making our son miserable. The only reason he's still here at all is because he doesn't want to lose you, but if you don't get your act together and talk to him soon, you're going to lose him regardless!"

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it again, expression hardening.

Astoria's eyes softened. Slowly, she scooted closer to him on the bed and took his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers; their matching wedding bands clinked together. "Draco, how is this different from our marriage?" she asked softly. "Your parents have never exactly been thrilled about having me as a daughter-in-law, and don't even bother pretending otherwise—you know it's true."

Draco sighed, shaking his head. "It's completely different—"

"Why? Because I'm a pure-blood? Because I was in Slytherin? I've told you a million times, I'm not going to let you base decisions off of—"

"That's not it," Draco interrupted shortly. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the headboard and rubbed his face. "Astoria…he brought his so-called fiancée into the same drawing room where I once watched her mother being tortured by my aunt. Blood status aside, their engagement is an engagement made in hell."

Astoria didn't respond. After several minutes of silence, Draco himself opened his eyes and looked at her. She was watching him evenly.

"That's not your decision to make," she said quietly.

Draco clenched his jaw. For a long while, he simply gazed, eyes narrowed, at his wife.

Then, suddenly, he climbed out of bed and stalked out of the bedroom. Tying the waistband of his dressing gown more securely, he plodded down the corridor and into the drawing room, glancing at his wristwatch. He looked up at the second-floor landing. Through the darkness, he could see a thin strip of golden light shining from under Scorpius's door.

Shaking his head, he padded up the nearest of the manor's six gold-plated spiral staircases, turning down the first hallway, towards his son's bedroom.

He let out a sharp breath. Then, he rapped smartly on the door.

"Scorpius, I need to talk to you."

"You're engaged to him?"

Rose's heart seemed to twist itself into a knot and lodge itself in her throat, as she tripped out of the fireplace grate. Her mother and father were sitting side-by-side on the sofa that she had vacated an hour earlier, both sporting expressions of disbelief.

And on the coffee table in front of them sat a very familiar silver ring, set with a single, shimmering diamond.

Mind reeling, Rose plunged a hand into the pocket of her dressing gown. It was empty.

"I-I—" she croaked, utterly horrified. "I can explain."

Dad narrowed his eyes. "I don't see how much clearer it can get than this," he said waspishly, jabbing a finger viciously towards the ring.

Rose looked from her father to her mother—from one careworn, wrinkled, war-weathered face to the next. They had lived through so much more than Rose would ever be able to fathom. Whatever had happened to them at Malfoy Manor, Rose was certain that they still carried the scars, though whether emotional or physical she did not know. She began to blink rather rapidly, chin trembling.

Then, suddenly, she burst into tears.

"Rosie!" Mum looked shocked. In a flash, she got to her feet and hugged her daughter. "Oh, sweetheart, please don't cry—"

"I'm sorry!" Rose wailed, interrupting her. "I'm sorry for g-going to Malfoy Manor. I never knew—hic—about what h-happened there! I should've never—hic—g-gone there without telling you! I'm s-so sorry!"

Both of her parents fell silent.

"Did Harry tell you everything?" Mum asked quietly, pulling away from her daughter and absentmindedly brushing her own throat again.

"N-n-nothing—hic—specific," Rose sniffled, mopping her eyes with the sleeves of her dressing gown and frowning at her mother. Why did she keep touching her throat? "H-he didn't want to tell me a-anything specific without your p-permission."

Dad sagged back onto the sofa cushions, heaving a great sigh of relief. Mum, however, was studying Rose very closely.

"Rose, how serious are you about Scorpius?" she asked sharply.

"Completely," Rose said at once.

Dad made a noise of incredulity, but Mum ignored him, as she continued to consider Rose searchingly.

"No," Scorpius said faintly. "No…no—you're lying to me."

Dad shook his head, looking exhausted. "I'm not, Scorpius," he said shortly.

Scorpius let the impact of everything his father had just divulged to him crash over him, as he slumped backwards against his pillows, eyes wide with horror. He had always known that his family had been near the center of Voldemort's inner-most circle. His father had never tried to hide it, and there had been more than enough rumors and snide remarks at Hogwarts to confirm it. But he had never, ever, ever thought to imagine the atrocities that had come with the title of being in Voldemort's best books.

In the past fifteen minutes, Scorpius had become aware that his father had attempted to assassinate Albus Dumbledore—not once, but thrice; that one of these assassination attempts had misfired and nearly killed Rose's father; and worst of all, that Scorpius's deceased, conscienceless, murderous great aunt had once viciously tortured Rose's mother in the same drawing room where Scorpius and his father had rowed about Rose, two days ago—in front of Rose.

Scorpius sat up suddenly and glared fiercely at his father. "This isn't fair to me—you realize that, don't you?"

Dad stiffened, expression hardening. Scorpius felt a twinge of guilt, but he quickly looked away.

After a few seconds, however, Dad himself sat down on the edge of Scorpius's bed. "Scorpius, I can't change the past," he said in a hollow voice.

Scorpius swallowed heavily, but he continued to avoid his father's eyes, staring resolutely at his bedroom wall instead.

It was several, long moments before Dad spoke again.

"Do you really love this girl?"

Scorpius started, taken aback. At last, he turned to meet his father's gaze. Dad was watching him very shrewdly, his gray eyes narrowed.

The answer rose to Scorpius's lips automatically. "Yeah, I do."

"And there's nothing I can do to change that?"

"No, there isn't."

Dad's lips thinned.

But then, to Scorpius's astonishment, he nodded stiffly. Scorpius stared at him.

"Fine."