READ:

A) I have lost my writing hand. See for yourself.

B) 'Chronicles' has been plagiarised. Here's the link: http://www(dot)harrypotterfanfiction(dot)com/viewstory(dot)php?psid=262863
Feel free to review and be obnoxiously rude. I can't post anything on the forum, apparently, nor can I send an e-mail, so all in all, I'm TERRIFICLY BUGGED.

C) I changed the rating. There was a very nice reviewer who happened to be offended by the profanity of this story. She doesn't think Hermione's daughter would have such a limited vocabulary. She also thought of Rose as a 'Gossip Girl', referring to the series, I suppose. Now, she (or he or whatever) fails to reply, so if you guys have an idea why Rose resembles someone from Gossip Girl, please care to inform me. If you don't, try to come up with reasons why anyone would. Thanks. It would make my world a happier place.

Aaaaanyway.

Disclaimer: Do not own blah blah blah blah.

FOUR

I can't hold my liquor.

You don't have to tell me.

When I regain consciousness, my head is pounding in an all too familiar way. I vaguely try to swallow, but my mouth is dry and tastes like sand-paper. My stomach isn't feeling too festive either. In fact, nothing is feeling too festive.

"Drink this."

The sound comes from miles and miles away. With great strain I very, very slowly raise my eyelids. It takes a few seconds for my vision to sharpen, and when the contours of my surroundings finally become clear, I recognise the person hanging over me, a cup held in his hands.

"Scorpius?"

My voice is hoarse and my throat raw.

"Drink this," he repeats, bringing the cup closer to my lips. "It'll make you feel better."

I meekly do as he says. After he's poured the entire substance down, my right mind slowly sets in. "What am I doing here?"

"You passed out," he states matter-of-factly. "I brought you here. This is my dorm."

"Where was I in the first place?"

"Party in the basement. You don't remember anything?"

Think, Rose. Put that oh-so famously inherited brains of yours to a good use.

Slowly but surely, the former events begin to take a form into my memory. L.W.U., Eloise, Albus, the party, Healing class... Scorpius?... What about Scorpius? Ransacking my deepest memories, I realise I threw a drink on him last night. Why did I do that? Why did I –

Comprehension dawns upon me.

With speed faster than lightning, I push his covers off me. Too much questions storm over me to handle. I'd sum them up, but then again, I suppose I'm quite capable of recapitulating them all into one: HOW DID I END UP IN SCORPIUS' BED?

(Again.)

(With no intention of doing so.)

(Because, hey! See how well that worked out for us!)

"Relax," comes the very annoyed tone of Malfoy, who's currently staring at me with a frown marring his stupidly smug face.

"Relax?" I shriek, placing my hands on my hips to come off a little more threatening. "You probably raped me!"

He rolls his eyes at my dramatic behaviour. "Always the rational one, aren't you?"

"Well, what's so irrational about thinking you raped me?"

Aside from the fact that we've already been past that stage, you could've had any girl you wanted – willing, even – and that I'm fully dressed. But hey. A present Malfoy is an insult-worthy Malfoy. It's like our first six years of Hogwarts all over again. One look at his all too familiar figure and spells for the worst kind of hexes are already brewing in my head. There was, alas, this small phase in our lives when we ridiculously believed that we... may have some sort of loved each other... but thankfully, he managed to wake me up by whacking my face against the wall right on time.

"Besides the obvious, you mean?"

Yeah, well. "The only obvious thing here is that you're an idiot and furthermore I'm quite in the dark."

"Albus was nowhere to be found, neither was that blonde girl." Ugh. If Albus actually dropped his sperm cells inside my French Sidekick, I'm going to off him. "And then there was this creepy law student hovering over you, so I decided I'd bring you here."

Alright. I admit. I'm somewhat caught off guard.

The thing is, he surprisingly has rescuing tendencies. I remember this exceptionally sunny day in May, a couple of months ago. Louis and Albus had convinced me to go out and play Quidditch with them, just like we did when we were younger and I did not realise what a stupid sport it is, to celebrate the nice weather. We didn't play a real game, since it was only the three of us. We merely freed the snitch, under the vow that Louis and Albus would massage my feet if I caught it first. I did spot it first, actually, in spite of my not-so-fantastic Quidditch skills, but of course, Albus, who wasn't so keen on the thought of touching my feet, dived right in front of me. I can't pinpoint how exactly it happened, but somehow, in the middle of racing someone who later got a spot in the L.W.U. Quidditch team, I lost my balance and ended up hanging with only my two hands on the broom. I was getting a tad panicked, you see, but then, suddenly, out of the blue – whoop, there was my personal saviour! Scorpius Malfoy, who pulled me off my broom quite handily, and put me on his. Apparently he'd been 'wandering around' (read: stalking me) right on the moment I decided to fall.

I think 'all good things come to an end' is a fitting expression.

Because you know what? Love is evanescent. Love is like a visitor – it comes, maybe stays for a while, but it goes almost every time.

"Oh, how touching," I therefore sneer with a scrunched up nose. "My very own knight in shining armour. Did you bring a white horse too?"

"Now, I will carefully thread away from using the small brain metaphor, since that argument has gotten quite old and I know for a fact that you're, unfortunately, one intelligent witch - but honestly, Rose. Are your brain cells only functioning halfway decent? Or do you insist on ignoring that I actually helped you?" He looks at me with an incredulous expression.

I snort, fully going with the latter. "Who says I didn't want to leave with the law student?"

"Do you even remember his name?" He cocks an eyebrow, and I wonder if he's become a Legimens or something.

"Do you remember all the names of the girls you've slept with?" I shoot back.

"We're not talking about me here. This is about you – and you wouldn't do something like that."

Oh, great, Malfoy.

There it is again. The huge block of bricks rising between us, reminding us both of the facts.

"Well," I say tightly. "People tend to surprise you. For the worse."

Malfoy's pretty faces morphs from confident to uncomfortable. He's one of those people that are utterly incompetent when it comes to facing your flaws. The very second one of his not all too endearing qualities is brought up, and wham. He switches the subject. "Don't you want some breakfast?"

What a true ice-breaker. "I do want some breakfast," I counter, "just not when you're preparing it."

"Who says I'm preparing it?"

"Don't tell me you've got house-elves in this place..."

"Okay, fine. Then I won't tell you," he retorts, like the infantile, pedantic ball of misery he is.

Un-be-lie-va-ble.

"You've got house-elves here?"

Mum would throw a tantrum if she knew.

"My father hired them," he shrugs as if it's no big deal. "Didn't think I could take care of myself."

"Oh, so he's paying them?" And then, as an afterthought: "Damn right you can't."

"Come on, Rose. You know I'm a big b – "

Then something occurs to me.

"Bloody hell!" I yell out, interrupting him. "Don't we have class right now?!"

"Trust Rose Weasley to come up with something like that," he mumbles between his teeth.

"Seriously!"

He sighs very loudly. "No, we don't. It's eleven o'clock and our first class today is at two. So, breakfast?"

"That would be a no," I reply testily, while searching for the door. "I'll leave myself out."

Just when I'm about to push the door handle down, his aggravating drawl calls from behind me: "It wasn't like I asked you to marry me!"

"Yeah, and I'll be extremely busy for the next few hours thanking the stars for that!" I call back over my shoulder, right before I walk out the dorm and slam the door closed. I hear a loud 'thud' on the other side, and rush away hoping I broke something.

Of course I'm right on time when my class starts. Malfoy's drink has done me well. Then again, he's always been one magnificent potions-maker. Not that he deserves credit or anything – but you got to give him at least that. Thanks to him I now have a head completely cleared, and I even managed to make myself look presentable.

Skirt not an inch above my knees, Oxford blouse, flat shoes – very, very decent.

As I walk inside the auditorium, I secretly cross my fingers behind my back that there weren't too many classmates of mine at that party. I'm notorious enough as it is. I don't want to turn into The Weasley Girl That Passed Out At That One Party Because She Was Wasted Out Of Her Wits. You might be mocking me right now, but honestly, that's the way it goes. I might as well shave my hair off and get 'BRAND ME' tattooed on the back of my head.

Maybe it would become a trend or something.

"Rose!" I hear from somewhere in the front row. "Over here!"

I find a beaming Eloise waving at me. With a slightly sour face I sit down next to her. She looks surprisingly awake - and gorgeous as always - for the events that occurred last night. That, naturally, only adds to my pettiness towards her.

"Oh, look who it is. The brightest bulb in the chandelier!"

"What are you talking about?" She asks, still with that smile. I bet you couldn't beat it off with a stick if you tried to. Perhaps I should try out some spells... an anti-gravitating spell, for example. It would get the smile downwards, if you catch my drift.

"You," I point my finger at her, in reprimanding fashion, "fell for my cousin's stupid lines!"

"I didn't fall for anything. We just had a lovely conversation outside! Have you seen the sky yesterday?" She looks at me dreamily. "It was so clear. Seriously, there were all these stars enlightening the – "

She's mental. Period.

"Well, no, unfortunately I wasn't able to share in this wonderfulness, as I was too busy passing out and being dragged to Malfoy's dorm!" I exclaim. Not too loudly, naturally.

"You passed out? Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry!"

Now, of course, I'm feeling guilty for letting her feel bad about something she has nothing to feel bad about. "It was entirely my fault. The issue at hand here, is that I woke up in Malfoy's bed."

"Speaking of which," she motions towards the door, as a seemingly superior Malfoy strolls in. He doesn't spare me a glance, and neither do I. He's good at that, I'm good at that. We're so good at that someone should actually consider giving us both a job that requires the talent of ignoring another person. We'd make a nice, lovely, really professional team, I'm sure.

Eloise also transfers her attention back to me. "Well, anyway, I'm sure that's not the first time, is it?"

"Eloise." I grant her a glare.

"Alright, alright, sorry," she quickly redeems herself. "How did it go?"

I open my mouth to form an answer, but at that moment our professor walks in. This time it's woman, around her forties. She looks fairly stern, reminds me somewhat of my old headmistress, professor McGonagall. The robe she's wearing is white, like a Healer's robe's supposed to be. She doesn't seem the kind of person to mess around with, so I immediately keep my mouth shut. The others apparently receive the same vibe, as the room quietens down in an instant.

"Good afternoon, students." Her voice is distinct and high-pitched. "As you may know or not know, my name is professor Davidson. Today you have all gathered here for the subject of The Human Skeleton." She pauses momentarily. "For all of you who have every broken a bone, it may seem that the solution was simple. It does require a certain skill, however, and that skill, we are going to learn in the following five classes, starting today. Now, who happens to know how the number of bones in our body?"

"206," comes a direct reply, which I recognise to be Malfoy's.

"208," I correct, turning around to watch his face fall.

Just like the good old days. How I've missed them wholeheartedly.

"Both of you are right," professor Davidson shoots down my triumph. "It depends of the method used for the counting. Your first 'assignment' is to learn what exactly we're counting. In other words, I want you to have memorised every bone of your body by next lesson. It's in your handbook, page 56." Everyone takes the handbook out his bag and flips to said page. "As you see, there are no names written yet. That's why I want you to copy the page with your wand, and then try to fill in the names you already know. This way I'll know how far you're along in the subject."

Well. She certainly doesn't let the grass grow under her feet.

Thank Merlin I was being so boyfriend-less over the Summer that I actually studied.

"Don't you just love her?" Eloise whispers. I'm briefly flabbergasted that she's capable of actual sarcasm, but one look at her face later, and I realise she's actually serious.

"Sure," I grimace.

"Before you get on it, you may get yourself something to drink first," professor Davidson continues. "Maybe that way we won't have two ladies whispering during class. Shoo. See you in ten minutes."

Eloise and I both look down to the floor, but evidently, she wasn't joking. Students are standing up and leaving the room. Strangely enough, professor Davidson is one of them, and luckily enough, so is Malfoy. That leaves Eloise and I by ourselves, and since we're in no instant need of coffee, we stay right where we are and pick the conversation back up.

"So, how did it go?" Eloise repeats her former question.

"He gave me an anti-hangover potion, and then offered me breakfast," I reply, shuddering at the memory.

She raises her eyebrows. "He sounds really nice!"

"I must say, Eloise," I shake my head softly, "you are the first person in this whole world who might have ever used that adjective for Scorpius Malfoy."

Common, sensible opinion on Scorpius Malfoy would be: 'noun – spoilt, cunning narcissist, known for its shrewd, deceiving and manipulative ways.' Or something along those lines.

"Maybe he's exclusively nice to you?"

Hah! "Oh, no, no, no. He's been about everything but nice to me."

"What did he do, then?"

My lips are pressed in a thin line. "Nothing."

"Then why don't you think he's nice?"

Argh. Argh argh argh.

See this face, Eloise? It's my Stop-Talking-Or-Else-I'll-Avada-You-Right-On-The-Spot-Face. I'm famous for it.

"Because he's a bastard!"

"But he must've done something!"

I am going to strangle her. With my bare hands. I could always bribe my way out of Azkaban. I mean, see how well that worked out for, say, Lucius Malfoy...

"Can't you just take it from me that some people aren't nice?"

"Well, usually there's a rea – "

"Fine!"

And then, completely against my own better judgment, I blurt it out.

"He cheated on me!"

That last line must've been the biggest surprise of your life, I'm sure.
Please do review though, it makes my day (AND of course I would also like to know why ROSE IS A GOSSIP GIRL)

-Josephinee