(( I had originally began writing this story with no direction in mind, and after posting the starter on another site and asking people to apply for characters, it turned into a pretty intricate storyline. This is directly copied and pasted from the other site. Please understand, however, that I did NOT edit any of these chapters, and wrote this story entirely for pleasure. I don't really care if there's an error in spelling or grammar. All that matters is the story is linear enough for it to make sense, and you enjoy what you read. If you have any serious concerns with the story, PM me. Otherwise, READ AND REVIEW POR FAVOR, MY LOVELIES. ))

Disclaimer: I do not own the following characters: Garrett Hawke, Michele Blanchard, KC McFearson. It has come to my attention that Garrett Hawke may or may not be a character from another fandom. I did not know this when I wrote the story – it was simply a part someone auditioned for. If this confuses people/hinders the story, I may change his name in later chapters. I was given descriptions of personality/looks/name/age/etc for each of these three characters, but all the writing that involves them is my own.


Chapter Two
"Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

"So," Albus Potter rocked back on his heels, letting his tired body rest against the corridor corner as he awkwardly stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"So," the conversation's counterpart replied back, mirroring Al's slightly pained looking face.

He winced at the mockery. It was not supposed to be like this, if Scorpius had not decided to satiate his curiosity and follow Wood to the Library against Rose's orders...

Albus knew it would not end well for his blond friend, but he could not let the man march alone into battle. He'd stupidly offered to accompany Scorp to the Library, only to discover that it was the young Slytherin's plan to ditch Al at the door, leaving him in the company of a friendly rival, one of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Players.

Why is Scorpius taking so long? Albus inwardly thought, eying the girl's slender frame without realizing. She was a year above him, and they rarely spoke outside of Quidditch banter and the occasional passing nod in the hallways.

"I think there's something wrong with your friend," the girl, whose name was KC, wore an amused expression as she looked past Al's shoulder. For a brief moment he thought her half smile was for him, until her words sank in. He nearly snapped to attention, abandoning his post against the corridor's rough walls to chase after Scorpius Malfoy; the end of his robes were engulfed in flames as he ran out of the Library, trying futilely to stomp them out.

Albus tried to mask his laughter as he procured a wand from his robe pocket, shouting at his best friend.

"Hold still you nutter! If you don't hold still I'll accidentally curse your shoes off!"

Scorpius suddenly stopped, as though Albus had just mortally offended him. "Well don't do that, you mindless oaf. These shoes are very expensive. Worth more than that bloody haircut," the blond smirked, raising both brows smugly.

Albus pointed his wand and muttered something quickly; a large splash of water shot out the end, drenching Scorpius from head to toe, still effectively putting out the fire.

"At least I don't look like I went diving for mermaids in the Black Lake." Albus smirked, re-pocketing his wand and turning around to awkwardly finish his conversation with KC. Not that much had been said, but Albus still felt like he should at least offer a goodbye.

It seemed she was gone, however, and the black haired boy betrayed a fleeting crestfallen look, which Scorpius wasted no time pointing out.

"Sad your girlfriend ran off? Well, Potter, I doubt she was dating you for your looks. It must be awful, having a famous father. Women use you, Professors give you unfairly good grades, you managed to snag the most attractive man at Hogwarts as your best friend—,"

"Man?" Albus said, laughing, "I think you have to at least know how to cast a Patronus Charm if you're a man."

"Oh, shut up," Scorpius said in an irritated tone.

The two boys fell into step with each other, wordlessly heading towards the Dungeons. After a few minutes of silence, Albus said slowly, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Fair enough."

They reached the dampest part of the castle, always causing Albus to plug his nose and hold his breath. This usually elicited a sarcastic quip from Scorpius, something about how the young Potter had been a Slytherin for six years and he still was not used to the generally dark and creepy atmosphere, but today he was silent. Albus assumed he was still living in the shame of his previously fire-lit robes, but there was something else in Scorp's eyes that even his best mate could not detect yet.


Rose had reached the Gryffindor Common Room with some time to spare before her next class, as she had planned, but it seemed the owl she had been waiting for all week… was missing.

The redhead froze, the color receding from her cheeks as she frantically began tearing her bed sheets apart, looking for the letter. She had gone up to the Owlry that morning after breakfast to see if Gambit, her wide-eyed elf owl, had returned; there was a red ribboned letter tied to his leg securely. Rose soon learned that it was charmed to burn anyone who held it other than the letter's recipient, when Vivane Montague tried to pick it up from Rose's bed while they prepared for their first class. The youngest Montague child was well known for her nosiness, though Rose did not suspect her to be stupid enough to return to the letter after the nasty burn mark it left on her thumb this morning.

Sometimes she wondered how the daughter of one of the meanest former Slytherins (according to her father's accounts) managed to end up in Gryffindor. Perhaps with the same luck that landed Harry Potter's youngest son into Slytherin.

Her panicked efforts to find the letter were unsuccessful, and as Rose moved to the foot of her bed, sinking to the floor and hitting her head against the side of her trunk, she muttered, "Bloody f-ing bollocks."

Rose Weasley was in a world of trouble. Might as well start packing my stuff up now, she thought miserably.


Scorpius had wasted no time changing once the two boys arrived at their Common Room, purposely avoiding Al's apologies as he rifled through his trunk. Albus simply smirked at the back of Scorp's head, knowing full well that his best friend was terrible at staying mad.

Emerging with a clean, and dry, uniform, Scorp clapped Al on the shoulder as the shorter boy sat on his bed, reading a book whose title was covered. "What are you reading there?" He peered over Al's shoulder.

"Nothing," Albus slammed the book shut and stuffed it under his pillow.

"Ah," Scorpius smiled knowingly, "a trashy muggle romance novel."

"You know me too well," Albus grinned boyishly, shoving his friend for the comment as he stood. "Time for dinner then, yeah?"

"Lead the way, Sir Potter," Scorpius said in a deep voice, furrowing his brows into a stern face that was meant to mock their substitute Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Arthur Walfangus. Hagrid had been absent since the end of last year.


Per their agreement, Albus and Scorpius waited at their house table for Rose. Every few days they alternated, so as not to stir up any trouble with the two still rivaling houses; though, Al secretly loathed sitting at the Gryffindor table. It reminded him of who he wasn't.

Rose was never one to be late, so when the second course had been served and there was still no sign of the energetic redhead, Scorpius brought it upon himself to interject his worry.

"I think Jeremy has her tied up somewhere. We should just kill him and be done with it." He stabbed his meatloaf angrily, nearly flicking a piece across the table at Charles Montague.

"You just want an excuse to off him," Albus said between chews.

"And as one of my best mates, you have to support that desire fully." Scorpius took a large gulp of Pumpkin juice, gripping the glass just a bit too tightly.

"I'm sure she has a reason to be late. Relax, Malfoy. People are going to think you're hot and bothered for my cousin," Albus joked, but there was an undertone of slight concern in his voice.

"Don't be ridiculous," Scorpius snapped, attacking his meatloaf again with the fork, "I'm as much hot and bothered by her as I am you."

"So, you're madly in love with her," Al said, cracking a grin.

"Meatloaf?" Scorpius said innocently, before flicking the fork in Al's direction, causing the rubbery meat to smack him in the arm.

Suddenly there was a loud slamming noise, and a very out of breath curly haired Weasley standing in front of them. Rose held up a hand, signaling the boys to quit their banter while she composed herself. Once she felt as though she had their full attention, Rose sat down and lifted her rather heavy looking knapsack onto the table. It mirrored the slamming noise her own hands had made just a few seconds earlier.

"Boys, it's been lovely. It really has. Albus – you're never going to get a girlfriend if you don't take care of that hair. Scorp – I may or may not have been in love with you our first three years of Hogwarts. To my two best mates," she leaned forward and grabbed them both by the outside shoulder, pulling them into an awkward hug, "don't get into too much trouble without me. Farewell," she sighed dramatically, finally letting them go.

"What are you on about?" Albus said, half laughing, half tensing up. He nudged Scorpius for support, but the boy looked as though he'd just been hit with a brick.

"I'm getting expelled," she said simply, reaching a hand over to steal one of Scorp's dinner rolls.

"No, you're not. You wouldn't be so calm about it if you were," Charles Montague suddenly interjected, smirking rather creepily at Rose.

"Was I talking to you?" She said without looking at him, throwing the dinner roll at his face.

Albus and Scorpius followed suit, pelting their own dinner rolls at Charlie's face. The boy scoffed and moved his seat, muttering under his breath.

"Explain this nonsense." Albus said in a low tone, leaning towards his cousin.

Rose seemed prime for an explanation, drawing in a deep breath and holding her hands up to animate her story, but something stayed the words in her throat. Scorpius had not said much, but he'd been watching her keenly, and he noticed the subtle swivel of her eyes as they moved behind Al's head, and the slow blinking as her mouth fell open. It was barely noticeable, unless one was trying their hardest to notice.

"Who is that?" Rose said suddenly, dropping her hands on the table and drumming her fingers as she waited for a response from one of the boys.

Scorpius decided he did not give a pygmy puff's arse who said person was, so he folded his arms and stared pointedly at what was left of his dinner while Al spun around casually, scouting out the person. It was a boy he recognized from Slytherin, a year older and certainly not the kind of person he wanted Rose inquiring about. His name was Hawke; Albus could not recall a first name.

He was careful not to react, because if Scorpius got involved he would surely attempt to fight the boy before dinner ended, and despite the young Malfoy's exceptional dueling skills, Hawke could easily knock him out with half a punch. The boy – the man was built like a stone temple, with a towering height and an almost insultingly muscular build. It was no wonder Rose was so curious.

"He's some creepy Slytherin. He kills squirrels for fun." Albus lied as he poured himself more pumpkin juice. "And he tried to force himself on Lily last year."

"Oh, I highly doubt—," Scorpius started to contradict him, but Albus elbowed him in the stomach.

"Really?" Rose sounded skeptical, and strangely uninterested in her previous sentiments about getting expelled.

"Bad bloke. Stay away from him." Albus summed up, pouring his cousin some pumpkin juice as well. "Back to this being expelled business. Explain yourself, Rosie."

She was already somewhere else mentally, however, and Scorpius could tell; Al had a perfect image constructed in his head of his cousin, which made it hard for him to see the flaw in her fiery personality. Scorpius knew that, once she set her mind on something, it would take an army of former Death Eaters to stray her from the path (and even then, half of them wouldn't stand a chance). He could see the dead-set look in her eyes, and it sparked his interest. Who was so important that she'd abandon a trio dinner for?

As his head turned Albus elbowed him in the stomach again.

"Ow! Bloody heck Potter, what's your problem?"

"Sorry. Reflex." He muttered. "Hey – wait! Rose!" Albus called after his cousin who'd taken the brief distraction between the boys as a way to slip out of the conversation unnoticed. She was already nearing the Great Hall doors by the time Al called after her. Slumping back down in his seat, he reached for his pumpkin juice to take a sip – only to find that there were chunks of meatloaf in it.

Scorpius pretended to be intimately interested in his peas, though there was a satisfied smirk on his face.


She didn't know what it was about him. Rose had seen her fair share of fit boys (being on the Quidditch team helped in that department), but this was a different kind of fixation. She was not a stupidly lust stricken teenage girl awkwardly chasing after her dream guy; rather, a very curious girl who never said no to her impulses. She wanted to follow him, so she did.

It seemed the young man noticed, but he had done nothing to indicate that Rose was not welcome. He quietly exited the Great Hall, with the redhead fifteen feet or so behind, and he left the castle without checking to see if she would follow suit. Though she did – forgetting that she was ill prepared for the October weather in just her uniform skirt and blouse.

He had stopped at the bottom of the castle steps, with both hands in his pockets and his eyes on the horizon. Rose suppressed a shiver as she started down the steps, allowing the stone clinks to make her presence known if it was not already.

"Do you make it a habit to follow people around?" The young man spoke, stopping Rose mid-step.

"Do you make it a habit of killing squirrels? Because, the way I hear it—," she started, comfortably giving him this information. Most people did not think twice up against Rose's charm.

"Is wrong," the young man finished her sentence, finally turning around. He kept his hands in his pockets. "Good day." He said curtly, brushing past her as he walked back up the stairs and inside the castle. As he passed by, however, Rose spotted an unmistakable trace of burn marks on the parts of his wrists that were visible just above his pockets.