Master Plan

Part Two

Scorpius and the werewolves stood blinking after her for a second before the Slytherin prefect swore violently under his breath and took off in her direction, racing past the tree line and disappearing into the forest's perpetual gloom.

He heard the wolves hastening behind him, having recovered from their surprise at the abrupt flight of their targets. Feet pounding almost in a blur, he quickly caught up to Rose's retreating form and planted a hand on the small of her back to push her onward. The beasts could have easily overtaken them at this point, with their garishly long limbs and powerful muscles, but they were enjoying this too much. Their vicious snarls had turned into barks and yips of pleasure, thrilled on the most primal level by the chase itself.

The ground rose and fell beneath them like solid waves on a motionless sea, swathed in fog that glowed incandescently in the moonlight. Breath exploded from their lungs in twin wisps, twigs snapped underfoot and branches were shoved unceremoniously aside as they tore through the tall dark trees. In the back of his mind, Scorpius was impressed that Rose could keep up with him so well. He barely had to press her on in the slightest, and most of his attempts left him grasping at the air in her wake. He had seen her jogging around the lake during her free time on occasion, so there was no questioning her stamina, but he had never envisioned her moving with such unfettered speed. She leapt like a deer over fallen logs and troublesome gullies, even using the odd tree or boulder as a jump off point to launch herself forward with even more momentum.

Behind them, he could hear the wolves fanning out now. Their yips had died down to concerted pants and grunts, focusing only on wearing down their prey. No need to rush them just yet, not when they still had so much fight left in them. Better to exhaust them to an inevitable collapse, so that when the time to strike came they would meet no resistance.

Their sudden quiet prompted Scorpius to throw a few hurried hexes over his shoulder, though he dared not look back to see if or how many actually landed true. All he heard were a few growls and whines as the wolves swerved to dodge the incoming spells, some landing too close for comfort and even grazing them along the way. It wasn't much, but it was enough just to keep them at bay, no matter how fleetingly.

The pursuit seemed to stretch on forever, but in reality it was probably less than a few minutes until –

There.

"This way," he breathed, veering to the right. Rose pivoted artfully and followed him into a winding trench, where a few older trees and boulders had amassed in a pile after what appeared to have been a small landslide some time ago. The trees had fallen together like logs in a fireplace, propped up at awkward angles with the fractured boulders that had been dragged down in their midst.

Scorpius reached the jumbled construct first, but whirled around to usher Rose in ahead of him. He shoved her with little ceremony into a narrow opening between two thick trunks, leading to a hollow space backed by a natural depression in the trench wall. She slipped in and immediately turned to drag him in alongside her, crying out in fear as an enormous paw snaked in after him. Its claws snagged his shirt and ripped the back open, missing his skin by a fraction of a hair. He grunted and fell on top of Rose, grabbing her around the waist and rolling them both out of reach. The beast snarled in frustration as it thrashed it forearm around, too big by far to squeeze in past its shoulder.

Now facing the opening with his back to the far wall, Rose still clutched in his arms with her face pressed to his chest, Scorpius eyed the wolf with grit-toothed determination and aimed his wand square at its face.

"Incendio!" he intoned, narrowing his eyes against the sudden blinding light of the flames that ejected from his wand.

The wolf yelped piercingly and fell back, and the air became rank with the smell of singed fur. It shook itself and pawed plaintively at its snout while the other two commenced looking for another way in. Their weight on the fallen logs caused the shelter to groan and sag as they searched every crack and niche they could find. Curtains of grit and dirt rained down on the two prefects, neither of whom were willing to risk so much as a cough in response.

A heartbeat later the flames died down, leaving the inside of the shelter completely pitch black. Scorpius blinked rapidly in the dark to try and adjust his vision, but for a few tense seconds he could see literally nothing but the darting shadows of the wolves in the moonlight outside. He heard them snuffling, clawing and growling, but he could not escape a suddenly powerful awareness of Rose's body pressed against his in seemingly airtight alignment. There was so little room to maneuver without straying within reach of those paws, and the cherry blossom scent of her perfume – or was it shampoo? – clouded his nostrils, making his head swim. Her hot, rapid breath washed over his collarbone and sent a wave of electricity rippling down his spine, prompting an involuntary shiver that was almost a spasm. If she noticed it she refrained from commenting, but she was so busy trembling herself, likely freezing without her poncho and still running almost entirely on adrenaline. He could literally feel her heart hammering against his, and her frame was so light in the crook of his arm that he almost couldn't believe this was the same girl who had outrun fucking werewolves with him just now.

"Here," she breathed suddenly, shifting in the dark to grab his wand. He complied mutely, only just now able to see the curved outline of her figure as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark. Pointing the wand up towards the low, half hazard ceiling above them, she whispered "Cave Inimicum" before returning it to his palm. The shelter seized up as if it were a living thing clenching every muscle, and the wolves released a chorus of enraged yowls. Every opening shrank to nearly paper-thin slits, swamping the two prefects in further blackness. Access – and therefore escape – was impossible now.

"Nicely done," Scorpius murmured, letting his head fall back to the soft dirt with a gusty sigh.

He felt Rose relax a fraction, laying her head down to rest next to his as well. Apparently the idea of pulling away from him, now that it was safer to do so, had yet to occur to her.

"Thanks." She then twisted a little as if to face him, useless as it was in the dark. "Now what? Wait until they get bored and wander off?"

He shrugged a little. "Not much else we can do," he reasoned. "I don't think they're hungry, though, so it shouldn't be too long."

They fell silent then, listening to the werewolves fiercely attempting to breach their way in. Their aggravated growls eventually turned into almost piteous whines, like pups deprived of a favourite toy.

"That was really brave of you, by the way."

Scorpius nearly jumped at her words, unprepared for the closeness of her voice in his ear. "What?"

He felt her smile against him, hands still bunched in the fabric of his jumper. "Earlier, when you stared down the first wolf. Right before you paralyzed it?" she reminded him. "And then when you saved me from getting my guts ripped out by the second one. I was too busy squealing like a useless damsel, but you . . . well, actually, it was rather Gryffindor of you."

Despite himself he managed a small, airy laugh. "Right. Try not to describe it that way to any Slytherins, will you? I doubt I'd ever live it down. And besides, I bet you'd have done the same thing if you had a wand."

She sighed a little and busied herself getting more comfortable against him, and for a few seconds he entirely forgot the three monsters circling them outside. "Maybe," she conceded, though not sounding terribly convinced. "But I'm just saying. Thank you. If it wasn't for you I'd have been torn to pieces and Merlin knows what else by now."

He attempted a weak half shrug without disturbing her use of him as a makeshift pillow. "Well, you were the one with the balls to run into the Forbidden Forest. I'm pretty sure that's what saved our lives in the end."

"Are you mad?" Rose spluttered. "There are loads more dangerous things in this place than bloody werewolves, it's a miracle I didn't get us both killed!"

"I had no idea Gryffindors were so modest," he remarked dryly.

"We have to be," she drawled. "With all this bravery swimming in our veins, we need modesty to keep our heads from swelling to simply unlivable sizes."

"Head swelling? Hmm. Sounds useful. We could have used you as an escape balloon."

"Except I think I occupy the more 'modest' and of the spectrum instead of brave," she sighed, sounding rather dejected about it all of a sudden.

"Cut it out," he admonished her. "You were brilliant. You kept up and didn't trip over any tree roots. Relish the small victories. And besides, the next time we patrol by the forest, you'll probably have your wand handy and we won't have to worry about a thing."

Rose lifted her head in the dark to gaze pointedly at him. "We're not patrol partners, remember? Not really, anyhow. Tereasa got sick, that's all."

Scorpius held her gaze with as much confidence as he dared show.

"Well, then she's just going to have to stay sick for a very long time, isn't she."

He could almost envision a blush creeping into her cheeks, but there was no mistaking the way she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too widely. She rolled all the way onto her stomach, now half on top of him while maintaining playfully stern eye contact.

"Scorpius –"

"Rose," he countered, with matching mock severity.

" – I hope you're not wishing poor health on my friend and fellow prefect in the hopes of a repeat of tonight?"

"Not at all!" he protested, propping himself up on his elbows. "And frankly I resent the accusation." He paused, and then flashed his most charming smile. "I was just about to suggest actively poisoning her."

She cocked her head to the side, still regarding him with barely contained amusement. "Are you always this romantic, or am I just special?"

Something about his smile switched, becoming perfectly Slytherinesque. "Care to find out?"

000

In a clearing not far away, three miserable-looking Fifth Year Slytherins sat shivering in wait. They had dressed hastily in the dark, having located their stash of clothes and shoes, but the night was fast becoming colder than any of them had anticipated. One of them sported a fresh, bright red burn blister on the bridge of his nose and was busy trying various healing charms on himself to try and alleviate the stinging pain, cursing with every failed attempt. The boy next to him was wrapping a conjured bandage around his forearm, muttering under his breath. Another boy, much smaller and skinnier than the other two but the only one who didn't appear physically harmed, glanced around nervously and jumped at every noise and shadow.

"Where the fook is he?" he demanded in a high, pinched voice.

"Off collecting our galleons, I hope," the burnt one replied waspishly. "I that prick thinks he can throw hexes at us for nothing, I will kick him so hard in the balls that he'll be coughing up little black curlies until next semester."

"No you won't," the bandaged boy snorted. "And besides, 'Malfoys always keep their word', remember? He'll pay us."

"Right, 'cause Malfoys are so famous for being trustworthy."

The skinny boy reached up to scratch an imaginary flea from his head. "Bollocks, all me senses are buzzin'. How long 'til the potion wears off? Feels like I still got fookin' fur e'rywhere."

"That's just nerves," the calmer one assured him. "We've been looking like proper human lads for a few minutes now. No more Fido in any of us, just like he promised." After a moment of reflection, he couldn't resist adding, "Impressive Polyjuice, though. Wonder where he got the hair samples from, anyhow? I mean, that was some real werewolf shit we pulled for a bit there."

"What the fuck does it matter?" the first boy snapped. "He coulda plucked 'em from Fenrir Greyback's moldy arse for all I care, I just want my fifty galleons."

"Once he's done shagging the Weasley girl over there, we'll all get ours. For the performance we gave, I wager he'll even throw in a bonus."

The skinny boy tore his gaze from a particularly threatening-looking bush and gave his housemate a skeptical look. "Come off it, Rose Weasley en't like that."

"Well, they are taking a long time over there, like you said."

"Yeah, but she's . . . I dunno, d'you really think she'd give it up that quick? To a guy like Malfoy? I mean, en't she still a virgin an' all? Probably why he's so after her in the first place. Maybe they're snogging, or something, but –"

"He fought off bloody werewolves for her, what else is it gonna take?"

"No he fucking didn't," the boy with the blister exclaimed, jumping to his feet to pace around agitatedly, "he fought us off and made her think it was fucking werewolves so that she'd actually notice him for once and call him a fucking hero and he could stop mooning after her in secret like he's fucking Heathrow from Wuthering Heights or some pathetic shite and actually work up the fucking nerve to ask her out like a real man instead of –"

The bandaged boy frowned and cut him off. "Who's Heathrow?"

"Heathcliff."

The arrival of a fourth voice made all three heads snap around to locate the source.

"W-what?" the blistered boy stammered.

"Heathcliff," Scorpius repeated matter-of-factly, currently in the process of tying back his ruffled-looking blond hair as he approached the trio. His jumper was slung haphazardly over one shoulder, and he seemed unmindful of the night's chill. In fact, there was a distinct tinge of colour in his otherwise uniform pallor – underneath the dirt smudges, that is. "That's the character's name, Rowely. From Wuthering Heights? If you're going to compare me to the brooding, sociopathic leading man in a dark Muggle romance, at least get the name right."

Blinking, Rowely managed to regain some of his bravado and folded his arms over his chest. "Great. Thanks for the tip."

The bandaged one gave them both a suspicious look. "What do either of you know about Muggle literature?"

Scorpius' grey eyes darted towards him. "I had Rowely here do a little research to find out what Rose likes to read," he explained. "Conversation starters, and the like."

"Right," the boy mused aloud, taking in the prefect's rumpled clothes and disheveled hair. "Must have been a nice 'conversation' you two were having just now."

He smiled back in a noncommittal fashion, revealing nothing. "I suppose it was."

"You didn't happen to find fifty galleons in her knickers, did you?" Rowely intercepted impatiently. "Because that's more or less where my interest in this conversation ends. Permanently."

Scorpius' eyes sharpened on him. "Careful, Rowely," he warned flatly, all traces of amusement gone. "I didn't set all this up just for a shot at getting laid. This is different. Rose is different, and if I hear you talking about her with anything but complete respect, I will personally feed you piece by piece to the Giant Squid. He and I have formed quite a rapport over the years, and trust me – he's not very picky."

Even from ten yards away, he managed to make the other boy wilt a little on the spot. "Right, right, whatever. I just want what's mine, after you nearly blasted my bloody nose off back there."

Smiling almost fondly at the recollection, Scorpius nodded to a hollowed out tree trunk at the other end of the clearing. "One hundred fifty galleons, all lying in wait for you. Well done boys, you played your parts beautifully. Apologies if I got a little . . . in character. Had to make it look real, after all."

"So it all worked, then?" the skinny boy piped up. "You an' Rose are . . . you know . . ."

Scorpius' smile turned a little more genuine. "It's a start. A good one."

"Well, you are gonna see 'er again, eh?" the young one persisted, grinning from ear to ear.

"Of course. I saved her from bloody werewolves, didn't I?"

The three boys exchanged knowing looks at that, before Rowely headed over to the trunk to retrieve the sack of coins.

"Where is she, anyhow?" he asked over his shoulder. "Hope you didn't leave her in your little love nest back there. This is still the Forbidden Forest, you know."

"I walked her back to the Gryffindor tower. Sorry to keep you lads waiting, but, you know . . . had to be a gentleman."

"How did you know she'd run into the forest, anyhow?" the skinny boy asked.

"Logistics," Scorpius replied with a breezy shrug. "You successfully blocked Hagrid's cabin and the castle was too far away. In a panic, she went for the option most likely to provide some cover – hence, the forest. All I had to do was guide her to our, ah, 'love nest' as you called it, Rowley, but the rest was mostly her instincts kicking in."

"Explain to me again why you couldn't just ask her for a drink in Hogsmeade?" the boy with the bandage asked, shaking his head at it all. "Why the charade? You've made her think you're this dashing hero type, when really you're just a scheming bastard who tricked her into thinking she could be dog food. If she finds out you were behind it –"

The look he received was perfectly innocent. "Well, Thatcher, she's not going to find out. Part of your payment covers secrecy, remember?"

"Yeah, but –"

"And besides, if she does find out, it will only show her how much trouble I went to just to get her attention. Wowing her with spontaneous heroics is one thing, but the fact that I am so awed by her beauty and brains and spirit that I had to resort to ridiculous means to impress her?" He grinned contentedly. "Girls love emotionally complicated guys. We're much more interesting."

"Right," Thatcher granted, "but still . . . werewolves?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Knockturn Alley was fresh out of centaur hairs."

"Either way, deal's done," Rowely called, returning with a spring in his step. He tossed the bag in the air and caught it deftly as he made his way back to the group. "Big happy ending for everyone. We even got a nice bonus, lads! Fifty extra galleons for all our hard work."

Scorpius fell in step with them as they headed back towards the tree line. "That's actually Tereasa's cut. She wasn't too happy about having to lie to Rose, but when I explained my plan to her, she seemed to think it was 'way romantic' and agreed to go along with it."

"Fifty galleons just to fake sick?" Rowely objected. "Hang on, us three had to drink that disgusting sludge, run through the Forbidden fucking Forest – at night – and get hexed half to death to earn ours!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Scorpius scoffed. "And besides, Tereasa didn't just lie – she's the one who . . . ah, borrowed Rose's wand. Temporarily. And it's up to her to figure out how to return it without getting caught. I figured compensation was in order."

"Seriously, Malfoy" Thatcher sighed as they headed back towards the tree line, "there's got to be an easier way to get a girl to notice you."

"If I wanted easy, I wouldn't want Rose," Scorpius countered swiftly. "And besides – the risk is worth the payoff."

END