-Chapter 2-

"Lily, got a moment?"

"Actually, Albus, I don't. Sorry, but I got to run. Catch you at dinner!" She wasn't sure what her brother Albus was doing waiting outside the Charms classroom right as class ended when she was sure he should've had class on the other side of the castle, but that was quickly filed under trivial matters. She had a much bigger concern at the moment.

"Lily, wait!"

She briskly ran on. "Later!" she threw over her shoulder seconds before crashing into a solid body. Quick hands stabilized her before she tumbled to the floor. She glanced up in thanks and met the inquisitive gaze of her eldest brother's bright amber eyes.

"Easy there, little sis. Where are you going in such a hurry? Classes just ended for the day."

Lily attempted to shrug his hands off her shoulders, but he only held on tighter. She glared at him. "Let me go, James. I have things I need to do."

"Things is it? Does that include rushing off to see a certain someone?"

The glower that shadowed his eyes gave her pause.

"Out with it, Lils. It's Malfoy, isn't it?" His eyes darkened even further as he spoke.

For a brief moment, she stared back at him in bemusement before realization clicked. "Oh Merlin, James. That's ridiculous, but whatever, it's none of your business, anyway. Let me go, now."

"If I thought Derek wasn't good enough for you, what made you think—"

She kicked him sharply in the shin. When he hissed and released her, she spun out of his reach.

"Bloody hell, Lily."

"You're not the boss of me," she flung back at him. "Stop trying to be one. It's obnoxious."

Just then Albus caught up to them, panting for breath as he jogged the last few steps.

"You too, Albus?" she asked with a defiant raise of her eyebrow.

"Don't be like that. You know we're only looking out for you," he said between gulps of air.

She threw her hands up in frustration. "For Merlin's sake, I'm almost fifteen! I don't need you to babysit me. Just stop."

James opened his mouth, but Albus, likely sensing the impending escalation, hurriedly cut in. "Lily, please. There're…things we overheard about Dad's work over the break."

"What things?"

He shook his head. "We weren't supposed to know, and Dad's sworn us to secrecy. Just know that it's too risky for you to get involved with a family like Malfoy's. We don't want you to get hurt. Unlike someone"—he paused to look pointedly at James—"I know what's being said are just rumors, but all the same, please promise us you won't interact with Malfoy anymore than strictly necessary. I know you can't entirely help it with him being in your House and all."

While James's challenging gaze would have spurred her on, it was impossible to snap back at Albus's pleading green eyes—their father's eyes. Anyway, she was losing precious time. It was best to take the honey way out for now. With an exaggerated sigh of resignation, she promised Albus she'd do just as he asked.

James continued to stare at her skeptically while Albus was evidently relieved.

"Well, if you're done hounding me, dear brothers, I really do have to go." Without waiting for their reply either way, she spun on her heels and dashed down the hall. Oh yes, of course she'd keep her promise to interact with Malfoy only as strictly as necessary. And there was little more necessary in her life at the moment than winning that Quidditch championship.

She descended the stairs down into the dungeons just as the first wave of students rolled upwards. Keeping an eye out for a platinum-blond head, she continued the rest of the way to the Potions classroom. A pair of sixth-year Slytherin girls trickled out of the classroom door as she neared and smirked knowingly when they caught sight of her.

"He's in the backroom talking to Slughorn," said Matilda Higgs, the petite blond of the pair.

Her long-legged, brunette counterpart, Ariana Pucey, added disdainfully, "Really, Potter, you're doing it wrong. Don't you know that boys are supposed to do the chasing? Guess there are limits to which money and fame can buy class."

The pair tittered falsely as they walked past her while Lily rolled her eyes at the overused slur. She wasn't one to let an insult slide. One couldn't survive four years of rooming with Slytherin girls by always taking the higher ground. Her mother had worried initially, but later complimented Lily on being tougher emotionally than she had been at that age. However, Slytherin females were a dogged bunch, and while Lily didn't doubt she would win, she couldn't afford to be distracted by another catty prank war at the moment. The girls in her year knew better by now than to mess with her, but hanging around Malfoy had her brushing up against the sixth-years more often as of late. Her goal, though, was easily worth having to delay her personal revenges. So she let the girls leave without so much as a discreetly cast hex as she leaned against the stone wall by the door, resigned to wait for Malfoy.

She'd half expected him to figure out her motive by now because it was a rather simple one. Maybe it had crossed his mind as a possibility but was dismissed because he couldn't believe she'd go through all that effort just to win a game. He was an only child after all. What would he know of sibling rivalries to recognize the extent to which a championship win over Gryffindor would mean for her?

She knew others would think her silly for caring so much, but what did they know about always being known as someone else's child or little sister? Her father's fame and her brothers' resemblance to him made it a hundred times worse. For a long while now, she knew she would have to fight for it, fight to be seen as herself on her own merits. Even her own name reminded people more of war heroes than of her. The coming Gryffindor-Slytherin match that was to determine the year's Quidditch champions was a golden opportunity to prove herself—one that might never come again.

Albus's brains and prowess at academics was something she could never hope to match, even if she wanted to. Quidditch, however, was her passion, her love, and of course it had to be where her brother James dominated with the freak Seeker ability he'd inherited from her father. It almost seemed at times as if James didn't even have to find the Snitch; it found him.

This year was to be James' last, and if Slytherin failed again to clinch the Championship, then she might never get the chance to be on the same playing field with him again. Fascinated with their father's line of work, James wasn't interest in pursuing a professional Quidditch career as she was. If she couldn't lead her team to outshine his this one last time, she could already imagine what the media and the public would say down the line even if her team managed to win the World Championship one day. Unbidden, the nightmare scenario played out in her mind.

It's the World Championship Finals, and the Quaffle is in her hand. The mounting pressure builds to a fevered pitch as she feints left, dodging a Bludger by millimeters. She spies the opening and feints right. The Keeper takes the bait, and she pulls her arm back before launching the Quaffle with everything she has. The packed stadium holds its collective breath. The Keeper dives for it, his hands straining towards the red leather ball, but it is too late. His cries of frustration are drowned out by the thunderous roar of thousands of fans. Seconds later, her team loses out on the Snitch, but they are so far ahead in points that it doesn't matter. Around the Wizarding World, the Wireless rapidly relays the news.

"WWN's Quidditch Correspondent here: England's team, led by Lily Potter—daughter of the famed Harry Potter as you all well know—has just played a heart-pounding game that secured them the world title today. I'll tell you what, Quidditch talent sure does run in the Potter family. Her mother used to play for the Holyhead Harpies, and it's well known that her brother, James Potter, had a phenomenal, flawless record as a Seeker during his school years that surpassed even his dad's famed Quidditch feats. Young James led his House team at Hogwarts to victory year after year, even when facing teams with powerhouse Chasers like his sister—capable of outscoring the opposing team to the point of rendering the Snitch's capture irrelevant. Imagine how unstoppable England's national team would be had he chosen to pursue Quidditch professionally."

Lily physically recoiled from the mental scene, silently cursing her vivid imagination. Just thinking of the possible outcome left a bitter taste of frustration in her mouth. If it ever became reality…No, they had to win this year. Lily Potter would be remembered as the Chaser who outshone one of the best Seekers in Hogwarts' history. She'd make sure of it.

"Well, that's a surprise. Did your supply of Euphoria Elixirs finally run out?"

She blinked her eyes, drawing back from her thoughts to focus on the speaker.

Staring back at her with a slight amused quirk of his lips was Malfoy—the person unfortunately central to her plan. Since it was almost guaranteed that James would catch the Snitch, Slytherins' only chance at winning was to outscore Gryffindor before the game ended. They could do it, but she wasn't so foolish and prideful that she believed they could pull it off without Malfoy. As a pair of Chasers, they'd been phenomenal together almost right from the start. It was rather strange how effortlessly they worked together on the pitch, even when they'd barely interacted otherwise, but why question a good thing? The problem was—and had been for the past three years in which Slytherin lost—Malfoy never got to play in the final match.

Her first year at Hogwarts, he got suspended from playing for retaliating to Perkins and his goons' antics. The second year, a prank went horribly wrong and left him incapacitated for the match. Last year, he got locked in a broom closet with Everlasting Glue, and no one could find him until the game was over. The pattern was evident, and her solution had finally been to do her utter best to guard him at every possible moment. It was and continued to be a beast and a half trying to keep him out of trouble. All the more because he fought her every bit of the way for interfering and did his best to avoid her like the plague.

She couldn't even imagine how much more difficult he'd make the task for her if he ever figured out her motivation behind it, but her determination had always been tenacious while the need for a few discreet tracking charms hardly ruffled her conscience. He fought her efforts less now, she noted, probably having resigned himself to her meddling, like how instead of taking advantage of her being lost in her thoughts to bolt right away as he would've done before, here he was still standing before her. As she stared back, his expression changed from barely perceptible amusement to faint confusion.

He waved a hand in her face when she didn't respond right away. "Hello, earth to Potter...Is something wrong?" He looked almost concerned, which would have been a first.

She shook her head, partly in answer and partly to clear the remnants of her unhappy thoughts from earlier. "No, nothing. Why do you ask? And also, what were you talking about? I'm not taking any potion."

"It was obviously a joke, Potter. You're awfully slow on the uptake today. I was referring to how you're not nearly as chirpy as usual. "

She crossed her arms jauntily. "It's not my fault your joke was so bad it couldn't be recognized as one."

"Well, that didn't take long. Looks like you're back to your usual self, snarkiness and all." Without another word, he turned and walked down the corridor.

She quickly ran after. "Hey, it's rude to just leave like that."

He glanced back at her over his shoulder but kept walking. "What else should I have said? 'Goodbye' is useless as you'll be tagging along anyway."

She huffed in exasperation, but let the subject drop. "What did you have to discuss with Slughorn anyway? That took ages."

"Why did you even wait? You're acting as if…"

"As if?"

"Never mind."

"You still haven't answered my other question."

"Oh? Like you answer mine? And anyway, it's—"

"—none of my bloody business yada yada yada," she filled in for him with a roll of her eyes.

They walked on without talking, climbing the stairs up from the dungeon. To her surprise, he didn't continue upwards to the library as per usual, but turned to head outside instead.

"Where are you going? We don't have the pitch today."

"You don't need the pitch to fly."

She certainly wasn't going to question this rare moment of spontaneity. Flying sure as heck beat having to sit in the library until dinner to keep an eye on him. They lapsed into further silence as they trekked across Hogwarts' lawn towards the Quidditch locker rooms where their flying gear was stowed.

Something bothered her as they walked along, and after a little while, she finally pinpointed it to be the silence; the silence had an awkward weight to it that didn't exist before. Maybe it was because he'd always been steadfastly ignoring her, which she'd expected from him and accepted readily, but now…? She wasn't sure why, but it suddenly felt like the type of silence that one wants to fill up with words but can't figure out what to say.

The moment passed when they finally got to the locker rooms, and she once more held the polished weight of her broom in her hand, feeling herself instantly being re-centered and put at ease.

"The pitch's free right now. Want to throw a Quaffle around?" she asked as they exited out onto the grassy field, dressed only in the loose black trousers and long-sleeve vest of their practice gear. Gryffindor had the pitch today, but their practice wasn't scheduled to start until an hour later.

Malfoy shook his head. "No. Just fly. Think you can keep up?"

Before she could reply, he had already taken off.

"Like you even had to ask!" she yelled after him as she swung onto her broom. Responding instantly to her touch, her beloved Firebolt shot to the skies like a lit firecracker, close on Malfoy's tail.

He flew more aggressively today than she had ever seen him done before. The tight material of his vest accentuated the slimness of his torso as he bent low over his sleek Nimbus. Her muscles strained to catch up with him, the wind like needles on her skin, but eventually she pulled even with him. They flew side by side at breakneck speed for several yards before he dove into an intricate series of loops, and she responded with her own series of stunts. Then, somehow, without either speaking a word, they began rising together in a spiral upwards, higher and higher as if daring the other to stop first.

"Better slow down," she finally shouted when Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest were but blurs of color beneath them, all other details indistinguishable. "We'll hit the barrier soon."

A blast of wind swallowed his laugh. "You would know, wouldn't you? I remember the incident."

She felt heat flush her cheeks. "I was eleven, alright? How was I supposed to know?"

"Eleven and utterly fearless and reckless. Are you still that way?"

She scoffed. "I'm up here with you, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," he said, again with that barely perceptible upward quirk of his lips before casting his gaze downwards.

She watched him scan the distant ground below them, grey eyes glinting with a light she knew all too well. Funny how, despite all the differences between them and their family, there was still this one thing they apparently had in common. "It's the same for you, isn't it?"

He looked back up in question.

She gestured around and below them. "Why we love this, live for it…the exhilaration of the flight, the rush, the recklessness of it all. It makes you feel—"

"Invincible," he finished for her. "Like nothing can touch you. Like everything that's bothering you on earth simply falls away." He spoke so softly, she wondered if he'd meant to say it out loud at all, so she merely nodded in response and joined him in looking out at the sprawling landscape so far below.

"Feel better now?"

Her head snapped up in surprise. "What made you think I was feeling bad in the first place?"

"You're just as terrible a liar as you are at hiding your emotions."

"Or you're just bad at reading me, but whatever. It's a moot point as flying always makes me feel better regardless of my starting mood."

He didn't say anything more but merely nodded with an annoying knowing look in his eyes. Well, two could play at that.

"You needed the flight too, didn't you?"

The slightly widening grey eyes confirmed her guess and piqued her interest. Wonder what's bothering him. It had to be something different than the usual to prompt a spontaneous flight. Scorpius Malfoy didn't do spontaneity.

But she knew better than to try and get the reason from him. "Don't worry. I won't ask because I know you won't answer," she said, cutting him off before he could barely open his mouth to protest.

The end of her statement was muffled by a strong gust of wind that blew half of her hair into her face. She shoved it back, annoyed that she'd forgotten a hair tie. The wind changed direction and blew directly at her front, lifting entire strands of her mid-back length hair up and away from her neck.

She looked back from wrestling with her hair to find Malfoy staring at her with an indefinable expression. His attention seemed to be simultaneously fixated on her and yet not at all. She snapped her fingers at him, and he appeared to shake himself to alertness before quickly looking away from her.

I never took him for a daydreamer, she thought with amusement.

Around them, clouds at the horizons had begun to bleed into the dusky colors of sunset. That and her own growling stomach signaled that they should probably head to dinner.

"Last one to the ground is a fat Flobberworm!" she shouted with a smirk before angling her broom into a steep dive.

She couldn't tell who won as the speed of their descent sent both tumbling off their broom and onto the grass when they neared the ground. Eventually she ended up on her back, looking up at the darkening sky. The adrenaline still rushing through her veins left her giddy enough to burst out laughing. Come to think of it. When was the last time she had a chance to just unwind and have fun? She hoped this more amicable version of Malfoy was here to stay. For one, it would make the task before her so much less a chore.

"I don't see what's so funny about being sore all over. You flew like a demon."

"Ah, but it's the good kind of soreness. Don't you agree?"

She heard a half-choking noise and looked over at him. By then he'd already sprung to his feet. For a moment he looked down at her, wind-blown hair falling in messy streaks across his forehead. He seemed hesitant before finally extending a hand out to her.

"We should go," he said.

She took his hand warily, prepared for it to be retracted at any moment, but he closed his fingers solidly around hers. It was a callous-roughened hand like hers from years of Quidditch practice, but its size swallowed hers up. As he pulled her upwards without a misstep, she could feel the pure male strength in his grip in contrast with the unbelievably soft skin of the back of his hand.

When he released her after she'd gotten to her feet, she felt ten kinds of funny.

Okay, Lily Potter. Snap out of it.

Though it was probably best not to question his sudden bout of friendliness towards her, her curiosity got the better of her. As they walked back towards the castle, she couldn't help blurting out, "What's up with you today? You're much less off-putting than usual."

Unsurprisingly, he countered her question with one of his own. "What about you? Earlier you looked like a kicked Kneazle."

"Don't know why you're reading that much into it when I was only zoned out for a bit out of boredom. And don't think I didn't notice that you avoided answering my question. Well, whatever your reason is, if you'd just open yourself up to people more often, I'm sure they'll see you're not so bad a bloke."

"Not so bad?"

"Well, duh. You're so uptight most of the time. It's hard to talk to someone who gives only one word answers. Plus, who would want to hang out with someone who studies all the time?"

"I feel no need to pander to anyone."

That was certainly true. In general, he hung out with no one on a daily basis and often took meals on his own, skipping the din of the Great Hall altogether. While that at first seemed a sad state of affair to her, the more she watched him, the more she began to realize that Scorpius Malfoy didn't carry himself like a loner to be pitied, but that his isolation was self-willed. He set himself apart from the crowd in a quietly superior way. Despite the constant barrage of pranks and whispers that followed him, she often wondered if he hadn't something big in mind and would get the last laugh after all. But still…

"And," he added, "Unlike some people, I'm not starved for attention."

She crossed her arms indignantly. "Hey, just because I'm not a social recluse like you doesn't mean I'm starved for attention."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Well, what about you? Your superior act might fool everyone, but don't your ever feel lonely?"

There was fat chance of him answering her directly, but she watched his face to catch whatever fleeting emotions it might betray. He kept his eyes glued resolutely ahead, but there was a tightness to his jaw that tugged at her insides.

However, his tone remained predictably blasé. "Why would I? Loneliness is the desiring of company, and I hardly have the patience or time for the fools who go here."

"You hardly know anyone well enough to dismiss them all like that. Didn't your parents teach you not to judge a book by its cover?"

"On the contrary, I was taught to read facades well. It saves you a lot more time and effort."

"But how much of that have you actually done versus just writing everyone off? You really think there's absolutely no one in this school who's worth knowing? Not a single person?" With all the hostility he faced from time to time, she guessed it was somewhat understandable, but it was still a rather extreme stance to take.

"What about you? With everything you catalogued just now, obviously you don't have the most positive view of me, so why are you bothering with me at all? Honestly, what are you playing at?"

Telling the truth was definitely out of the question if she didn't want him to implode. With two older brothers and countless boy cousins, she knew how fragile male egos could be. "Why do I have to be playing at anything? What's wrong with wanting to get to know a fellow House and teammate?"

"Getting to know?" He gave a bark of sarcastic laughter. "So your approach to getting to know someone is to stalk them at every waking minute? It's getting to be a bit creepy to be honest. Come on, Potter, I'm not an idiot, and I'm this close to reporting you to our Head of House. Out with it. What's your deal?"

Crap. What if they ended up putting some sort of restraining order on her? Could they do that? But she was so close. Quick. Think. What would get Malfoy to accept her act? Maybe…no, a partial truth would have to do.

She rushed to explain. "So my approach was a bit out of the norm, but you only have yourself to blame for that. You don't make it very easy for anyone to approach you, alright? I just thought that if we knew each other a bit better, we might just play better together. The Championship match is just around the bend, and I want to do everything to improve our chances of winning this year."

He looked at her with an incredulous raise of both eyebrows. "So that's it? That's the reason to your madness? Why in Salazar's name didn't you just say so from the start?"

In truth, that approach hadn't crossed her mind, but then again, this was Malfoy she was talking about. "Would you have agreed? You, who was constantly telling me to go away every time I tried to strike up a conversation with you?"

For a moment he closed his eyes as he racked a hand through his mussed hair before catching her gaze again. "Look, I'm not very trusting of people."

She snorted. "That's an understatement." When his mouth stretched into a grim line, she sighed and added, "But it's understandable why you wouldn't be."

"No kidding," he muttered. They walked for several more feet in silence before he spoke again.

"Sorry," he finally breathed out.

She turned her head to face him, but he kept his eyes focused ahead.

"Father's right of course. I need to stop making enemies out of everyone."

"That's sound advice right there. Really, Malfoy, why would you make life more difficult for yourself? Having allies hardly means accepting weakness."

"So that's what we are? Allies?"

"Obviously. We're in the same House, same Quidditch team. Our biggest rival is the House that has my older brothers. I don't know why people kept thinking I would betray my own House and team. Like I'm going to roll over and let everything go in my brothers' favor. I have years of teasing to pay them back for, especially James."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm certain you had all the Slytherins fully convinced by your second year when you tried to smash a Bludger towards your brother after the game was already over."

She grimaced. That definitely hadn't been one of her finer moments as it had nearly gotten her suspended from Quidditch. Though she still thought James had been asking for it by acting so obnoxious after his win over her team.

"From the way you talk, you don't seem to have the most loving relationship with your brothers. Not so much the big happy family the media paints the Potters out to be, eh?"

She shook her head. "l love them, of course. They're family after all, but they are awfully stifling at times. I often wish I had a younger sister so that some of the attention could be diverted to her."

"You say that, but I bet if you actually had one, you'd wish the situation was reversed."

"Trust me. It's not the sort of attention I'd mind giving away. I can't even imagine how awful it would've been if I'd ended up in the same House as my brothers, giving them even more of an opportunity to keep an eye on me 'for my own good'."

"So I can see why you didn't want to end up in Gryffindor, but how did you get sorted into Slytherin? That was a bit of a..."

She laughed. "A shocker? It came as a surprise to me too when the Sorting Hat suggested that it'd be a good fit for me, but then it hit me just how perfect that arrangement would be."

"How so?"

"What House would be better for going head to head with my brothers?"

"You seem rather obsessed with competing with them."

"You're an only child, so you wouldn't understand what it's like to be overshadowed by your older siblings all your life. I wanted a chance to be able to stand out on my own."

"In other words, you're starved for attention just as I said."

"I'm not! There's a big difference."

He was too occupied with laughing to respond. Come to think of it, had she ever heard him laugh before today? It was a raucous, hearty sound so at odds with the quiet, serious boy he usually was.

Never judge a book by its cover. She too had yet to take that lesson to heart.

When his laughter died off, silence reigned again. This time, it didn't feel nearly as awkward.

"You're wrong by the way," he said when they were a few feet from the doors into the Great Hall. "I do understand. I know what it's like, living in a shadow that you're perpetually trying to overcome."

Before she could respond in anyway, the doors opened, and they were swallowed up by the chaos of mealtime. When they sat down at the Slytherin table, Malfoy was once again his taciturn self, but she knew better now, and it made her all the more curious. What other sides are there to you, Scorpius Malfoy? Just what more would you reveal about yourself if you came to trust me?

Author Notes: Hoped you enjoyed the second chapter. Do let me know what you thought of it! :) As always a big thank you to cherryredxx for the beta-reading.