A/N: Tried to get another update up pretty quick, guys, since this is a new story and all. It's a bit longer than the last chapter, as I hope the rest will also be. I really hope you like it, and please please please review! I love feedback, positive or critical!
It took two days for Rose's parents to get her out of her room. I found myself in the Weasley-Granger household often in those two days, as Dominique and Albus also took their own turns in attempting to lure the minx out of her cavern. Though Ron and Hermione (as they insisted on me calling them by their first name, something with which I still wasn't completely comfortable) insisted I tried to help, I vehemently disagreed, under the impression that I was the reason Rose was throwing this fit.
In actuality, I had no idea what was going on. I heard snippets of conversation, that in my mind I tried to make sense of, but really it made no sense to me. My understanding was that she wanted Albus to be Head Boy, for some reason that hadn't been dropped. It eased my mind to an extent, because she wasn't against me, she just wasn't against anyone that wasn't Al.
Which was understandable. Not just anyone can be my best mate, yeah?
"Scorpius?" I heard a soft voice say, one that I didn't immediately recognize. Hermione had begun to approach me as I was sitting at her counter, gathering everyone's Hogwarts letters for our Diagon Alley trip later that day.
"Yes, Mrs- uh, Hermione?" I asked.
"Do you mind if I speak to you for a moment, dear?" I nodded in agreement. She placed a hand on my shoulder and sat me down, her face becoming exponentially more serious by the second. "You've known Rose for quite a while now. I have no doubt you're going to learn some things about her this year that no one outside our family has any idea of."
I sat there, unsure as how to respond. I was partly right about Rose, how there was something hidden beneath those stormy blue eyes and fierce auburn hair. If the Brightest Witch of Her Age thought that I would be in the know while both her own daughter and I were living together within the upcoming 10 or so months.
"It's much to ask of you, I know," she continued solemnly, "But I would like your word, Scorpius. I want your word that whatever happens, you will look out for Rose. She is not what she seems to be." I didn't know what I was agreeing to, her plea being, if nothing else, vague.
"Of course," I agreed whole-heartedly. "I promise, Hermione. Though I highly doubt she needs my help, Rose will be in good hands." It was hard to believe that my father, at one point, thought so ill of the kind, motherly woman in front of me.
"That's all I ask."
Later that day, the summer sun still shone bright in Diagon Alley, despite the storm-cloud that was hovering over Rose. The kids that were of age Apparated over to the Leaky Cauldron, while the adults accompanied the younger ones via fireplace and Floo Powder. All the adults, that is, besides Harry, who for some reason abhorred the Floo network.
The journey, though short, gave me a few spare moments to think about Hermione's request. I decided, that if she saw me trying to deal with Rose, Hermione might give me advice, rescind the offer, or further enhance her viewpoint of me.
Albus and Dominique immediately wanted to go to receive new brooms, as they were promised the best in equipment before their Seventh Year. Of course, I wanted to get a new Beater's club as my old one began to split in two. Instead, I decided to take a different route.
"Rose, d'you want to go Quality Quidditch Supplies with us first, then we'll go to Flourish and Blotts?" Al inquired. Rose gnawed on her lower lip and craned her neck around to look straight at her mother.
"I'll stay with Mum." Hermione let go of Hugo's shoulders, to whom she was giving a firm scolding to about an incident with Lily, her hair and a Bat-Bogey hex. Before giving a quick glance at me, she addressed her daughter.
"Love, I was actually going to head out and go to Gringott's for some business I'm sure would interest you as much as broom shopping does," Hermione joked lightly, to which Rose did not crack a sliver of a smile to. I cleared my throat, causing the younger genius to whip her head so fast, I was sure she must've felt a crick in her neck.
"I have no interest in broom shopping, Mrs. Weasley. In fact, I really wanted to hit Flourish and Blott's, then perhaps Obscurus and Madame Malkin's?" All were most likely of interest for Rose to go to. I hit all of her interests and necessities on the head; school books, leisure reading, and new robes- I am quite intuitive, Rose grew in a few places over the summer.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Scorpius!" Hermione exclaimed, and Rose blanched in return. "Go on, love! It will be your first time bonding as Co-Heads!"
"I can just join-"
"No can do, Rosie," Lily chirped and Rose's hands began to shake. "We're also looking to go broom shopping." Rose crossed her arms over her chest. I had to take initiative, I decided at that point. If I had to get the anti-social redhead to trust me, then I would have to start somewhere.
"Where would you like to begin, Rose?" I asked, the rest of her family walking away. It was a rare sight, Rose Weasley on her own, or without her usual bodyguards. Not doubt, her wall would be an impenetrable as ever. She didn't respond, so I pursed my lips together. "Flourish and Blotts it is, then." Hesitantly, she fell behind me.
I pulled the list of books I needed out of my jean pocket. "I need a new book for almost every class, save Muggle Studies. I'm assuming that you do as well, why don't we separate, grab two of each and meet up?" I offered.
"Arithmancy."
"Pardon?" I asked at the single word that tumbled from the girl's lips next to me.
"We don't share Arithmancy." It was as if those four words were the most obvious in the world, only comparable to 'The grass is green,' 'Wand chooses the wizard,' 'Lord Voldemort was evil,' and any other common sense term I have ever come to know. Like many quips she has thrown at me, I didn't know how to respond, so I pointed towards the potions section, where I retried my share of the merchandise.
I caught up with her after 20 minutes. She was waiting in line, double the books in her hand, slipping down every few moments, her hitching them back up when they got too far down.
"Are you going to put your opinion in where we go next?" I asked, in every way anticipating pushing a button or two, getting some sort of rise from her. "Or are you going to continue the minimal contact without the consent of your cronies that some people may refer to as your family?"
Rose dumped the rest of her books onto my arms. I had little trouble carrying the weight, but the girth of the books were rather difficult to manage. Somehow, I managed to slither my wand out of my pocket to levitate the stack out in front of me. The corner of her lip was snarled into a skin-rising growl.
"I know perfectly well how to function on my own." We moved up a spot in line. Rose kept talking, much to my surprise. But, then again, the amount to which I was caught off guard by Rose would imply that being predictable would catch my attention more. "Do I take exams with Albus whispering in my ear? Does Dominique have control over the sparks my wand emits?"
I could feel a strange vibe, emitting off her, one that I couldn't quite put my finger off. I began to see sweat beads begin to trickle down her temple and getting caught from their journey from her hands to the tip of her long-sleeved shirt. I saw a slight quivering sensation and a vein begin to protrude from her neck.
"Obscurus or Madame Malkin's, then?" Again, she chose not to respond. We placed our galleons on the counter in front of us and wrapped up our books which were magic-ed back to the Potter home with the rest of our supplies. "Madame Malkin's it is, then," I decided. Still no bloody response. I was certain this bloody woman wasn't a mute. Sure, she could be quiet at times but she always knew how to quip a response at me.
The promise I made to one of the best witches in history is becoming harder and harder to keep, which made it all the more apparent why she made me keep it in the first place.
"You put down your letter so quickly, I don't think you saw," I said conversationally as Rose and I traveled down the Alley and to the shop. "But the parchment also said for dress robes to be brought to school."
"I have a nearly picture perfect memory." Bloody know it all. "Of course I saw it."
"Right," I nodded. My hand subconsciously came made its way to the back of my neck to rub it. Around her, I lost my cool, or some of it. A lot of it. Most of it. Look at me! I can't even determine how much she affects me on the scale of coolness, which I usually don't have any trouble maintaining. "If you're so intuitive, why would you think that?" Wrong question, Scorp, wrong question.
I really have no idea why that whole thing that happened in the store seemed to reveal its' ugly head was surfacing again. Her eyes were dilated in an emotion that I had no idea how to place, which made me in turn uncomfortable as I didn't know how to deal with her. Would putting my arm on her shoulder help, or unnerve her even further? Should I just continue to stay quiet? I hadn't even done that well. No wonder the Weasleys seemed so neurotic.
She was struggling the the words she was going to say yes. I saw the words dangling off her tongue, slowly going down to spill out, all the while uncertain. "You're Head Boy." A blow to my ego, she said it as if it shouldn't be so, like she didn't want it. I knew she didn't, but it wounded me all the same. "You must have some level of intelligence, can't you figure it out?"
"Well, the last time there was any sort of dance at Hogwarts was the Yule Ball. I highly doubt they would bring the Triwizard Tournament," -cue a violent flinch from Rose- "Because, you know, yeah. They won't bring it back." Maybe my stuttering, blubbering like an idiot, or whatever else I did to embarrass myself put her at ease. All she did in return was arch her eyebrow, at my uncharacteristic dorkiness and accompanied me into the shop. "So I guess my question should be, do you want to shop for dress robes now?"
"No." Abrupt as hell, as per usual. "I've never been one for galas. If it's a ball, you can bet your bottom dollar I'm not going."
"Spoilsport." I stuck my tongue out at her, and under her breath she muttered something about being immature. Me, immature? Please. We took turn up on that post no one seemed to like, because, really: who did like standing straight, only option to stare at the wall in front of him. While Rose, of course, got Malkin's herself to work on her own robes, I got the ever pleasant second hand. This woman, in her mid-thirties, and possibly subject to nepotism because her crafty-work was so damn awful that I was repeatedly getting poked with a damn needle.
On our way to the book shop that was supposed to be pleasure for the both of us, I couldn't help but complain. "Look at this, Miss Picture Perfect Memory! Look at all these pricks on my flawless skin!" My part was played rather well, I even brought my hand up to my head in apparent duress. "How is that woman even a seamstress! I think I would have done a better job, honestly."
"Scorpius Malfoy, seamstress," Rose's snarky comment carried across the warm summer air on the streets of Diagon Alley.
"It has a ring to it."
Silence, again, encased them as they entered one of the lesser famous bookstores in the Alley, that was more known for having more of a variety than Flourish and Blotts, which had more works made for Hogwarts students, those in further training for their future careers, or miscellaneous wizarding authors. However, Obscurus had many muggle authors. I had a whole library of them at home, courtesy of my mother, who passed most of her classics down to me.
"I'm looking for a copy of Anna Karenina," I decided, for some bloody reason, to tell her. Maybe I thought we could connect through books, or maybe I thought I could impress her just by being literate or something. Unable to filter the thoughts that ran through my mind, I continued, "I mean, I read War and Peace and I loved it."
"You read Tolstoy?" Rose questioned, eyebrow raised in disbelief. I caught her off-guard, and I'm relishing in it. "I didn't even know you read Muggle Literature." In my Rose-clouded mind, I made an attempt to joke and around with her, despite the fact that it usually never worked in my favor.
"Didn't you know? I've been in your Muggle Studies class the past four years." Rally, I was hoping to maybe elicit guilt, possible for not even realizing that we 'were in the same class.' It was a joke, but it like many things it did not turn out the way I had hoped.
"I didn't take Muggle Studies, you dolt," she snapped, and I blanched. Oops. Dammit, Scorp. But, I could have sworn that I saw a smile creep up her lips.
"What?" I began to blubber. "I-I thought I saw a Muggle Study O.W.L on your results." Which was, in fact, the truth. She had twelve O.W.L's, Al told me, one more than her own mother. Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, dropped Muggle Studies, yet Rose kept it. That was my reasonable thought process, I thought. You take the class, you get the O.W.L, was there something I was missing?
"I didn't take the class, but I took the exam," she vaguely explained, and I threw my hands up in the air incredulously.
"And you still got an O?" Rose then shrugged, her mum was muggleborn, two of her grandparents were muggles themselves. I even think she had a portable-Floo-caller-thingy. Mobiles, I think they called the confusing little buggers. I let it go, Rose was simply a genius. Honestly, I was second in the class, but I don't even think she had to worry about me ever catching up unless she got all T's this year (un-bloody-likely).
Rose ran her hands down the spines of different books, which was when I was first consciously aware that was already step foot in the store. She caressed The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, a book that I didn't really care for. It was too all over the place, and I didn't care for exerting unnecessary energy on a book that was of no interest to me.
"Well, are you going to get it?" I asked, and auburn hair turned to a freckled face in the blink of an eye.
"No," was her curt response. "I already read it," her voice now softening up. "Many times."
It was again up to me to gear away from the way this discussion was leading, which did not seem promising. "Do you think that if I buy a copy of your mother's book and ask her to sign it I'll get into her good graces?" I ask, pointing to her recollection of the Second Wizarding war a few aisles over. I actually already had one, but I'd read it so many times (I caught father reading it on more than one occasion as well) that the spine began to break. Inside it, she had interviews from Harry Potter more often than not, as he was the closest to many people of the dead she simply could not question, namely Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and Albus Dumbledore. Inside, she also had recollections from Kingsley Shacklebot, the Weasley Family, and even a select few ex-Death Eater's straight from their cells in Azkaban. Really, it was a great read.
"You'll hardly need it," her voice disrupted my thoughts, which is why my eyes inquisitively widened more than they should have. "My mother adores you."
And though Rose wouldn't admit it to my face, she very much valued her mother's opinion. On every subject matter. In my wildest dreams, I hoped such matters would carry over to me.