"Made it!"

Rose turns to see a beaming Albus standing a couple of metres away, with Poppy Thomas standing behind him. It's the third Friday of the term, and tradition dictates that the four friends meet and spend the full evening drinking butterbeer and eating a selection of sweets. What had initially been a monthly tradition had gradually become something that happened every week; it would be surprising indeed for any one of the four to be seen alone on a Friday night.

"I thought you said that you would be here for seven," Lindsay Macmillan responds without even turning around. A fellow Ravenclaw, Lindsay has slept in the bed next to Rose's for the last six years, with a friendship born on their very first night, when neither of them could figure out how to close the curtains.

"I got the riddle right!" Albus exclaims. "Everyone have a butterbeer and toast to the day that Albus Potter, a humble Gryffindor, bested the Ravenclaw's almost impenetrable eagle."

Rose snorts. "Al Potter, humble? Did somebody give you a knock on the head on the way here, or is your ego just waiting outside with the eagle?"

"It only took him seven attempts," Poppy says, her tone innocent. "It would have taken more, but Ellie realised that he wasn't going to say anything intelligent so she let us in." The only one of them to have given the eagle a nickname, Poppy continues to use it every time she refers to the gateway to the Ravenclaw common room.

Albus shoots Poppy a mournful look, placing his hand over his heart as he takes the seat opposite Rose. "And I thought Hufflepuffs were meant to be the nice house."

"I was being nice – it actually took you nine," she responds, grinning. "Right, so it's time for the classic, the one, the only…Wizarding World Weekly!"

The other three groan, with Rose literally resting her head in her hands.

"So, the rules and the challenge," Poppy continues, getting a piece of paper out of her bag.

"Pops, we've played this game for six years; I think we know the rules," Lindsay comments, dishing out the butterbeers.

Everyone else agrees.

Ignoring her friends, Poppy reads from the sheet. "Everyone will have contributed three facts and one lie or rumour from the wizarding world. These can include everyday life within Hogwarts, but at least one should cover the wizarding world more generally. Each fact or lie must be written on a plain piece of parchment, and enchanted to disguise your handwriting. Each author must be discrete when their fact or lie is up for discussion; only when a decision has been made can they reveal that the card is theirs."

"Well, thanks for that recap, Poppy, I think I'd legitimately forgotten the rules from last week," says Rose, picking up her butterbeer and taking a long gulp. "Mixinomino," she adds, flicking her wand at the table.

Almost immediately, a mini whirlwind forms though it remains, unmoving, in the centre of the table. This is an element to the game that had been added in fourth year, after Rose stumbled across the spell in her attempts to mix up her revision cards; a little bit of mispronunciation had resulted in a whirlwind which had decimated twelve of the Charms classroom's desks. After a week of detention and a lecture from Professor McGonagall on the importance of pronunciation, Rose had trialled the newly discovered spell out once again, though this time in the safety of the Hogwarts grounds. Following a few weeks of practice, she had gained enough control to be able to cast the spell anywhere, and for any purpose.

The whirlwind adds an element of surprise to the game, making it less obvious who puts in which statement. Knowing who had written what always makes it easier to work out whether it was a truth or a lie – because how could Rose really know the ins and outs of what went on in the seventh year Hufflepuff boys dormitory?

The only word to describe Rose's contributions is atrocious. She hasn't had more than about three minutes to come up with her answers; between Head Girl duties, organising the prefects and studying like the NEWTs are tomorrow, she hasn't had much time to herself.

Harry Potter has recently announced to the Wizarding Times that he has plans to expand international Auror cooperation. Truth.

Liam Wood has caused outrage by eating in a Muggle restaurant. Truth.

Lucinda Nott is sleeping with Edmund Flint. Truth, though Rose had only discovered this through overhearing the Slytherin prefects gossiping earlier that evening, so whether it was actually true she had no idea.

Professor Carswell is contemplating making Albus his personal assistant. Lie.

As she places her cards in the whirlwind, Rose only hopes that her friends will take pity on her poor contributions.

.-.

Unsurprisingly, they don't.

However, after Albus had lamented her as the weak link in the Potter-Weasley clan, and Lindsay had suggested that she would be better placed in Gryffindor for how obvious her truths were (something which provoked Albus into declaring a new inter-house rivalry), the game continues. Soon, the group are fully engrossed in debating both the merits of each answer and the identity of the author, and time passes quickly - too quickly, in fact.

Her bright mood quickly sours, however, upon reading one of the final cards.

"Headcest in Hogwarts? Are the rumours true – does Rose Weasley really fancy Scorpius Malfoy?" With every word she says, Rose's tone became more and more sharp, until she's practically spitting the words out.

"Truth!" Albus immediately calls, though his grin quickly fades when Rose turns her gaze upon him.

"Is this some sort of joke?" Rose rarely loses her temper with her friends but this is not, in her eyes, a normal situation. "You know how hard I'm finding this year so far, so you decide to spoil the first time that I've actually had time to relax by saying something stupid?"

"If it's so stupid, why are you getting het up about it?" Albus mutters, his voice barely audible.

Lindsay glares at him a look before turning her attention back to Rose. "Rose, I'm sorry, it was just meant to be a bit of fun – you know we didn't mean to upset you or stress you out. It was meant to be funny."

Rose shakes her head, blinking back the tears which threaten to spill over. Ever since she was a child, rage has brought tears – which has never helped her win an argument.

"You know my opinion of him – it hasn't changed since first year, since this whole thing started, so why am I suddenly going to find that funny?"

Before any of the others can reply, Rose glances up at the eagle which doubled as a clock for those wise enough to read it – and she's horrified.

"It's two in the morning!" She half-shouts, leaping up. Doing so disrupts her wand, which causes the mini whirlwind to slow down, before disappearing completely.

"So?" Poppy replies, stifling a yawn. "You're Head Girl, you can't exactly give yourself detention."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! It's the first Hogsmeade of the year tomorrow – well, today. I've got to be ready and set up to go for like eight, which isn't going to happen. I can't believe I've done this, what are the Prefects going to think of me?"

And with that, she rushes towards the Ravenclaw girls dormitories, without even saying goodbye to her friends.

It takes fifteen alarms, but Rose just about manages to drag herself out of bed at eight am, and proceeds to swiftly dress herself. She's grumpy, even in her own thoughts, as she gathers her belongings, wondering what on earth possessed her to allow the game to go on for so long last night. She's never been a morning person – growing up, her dad called her the red-haired monster whenever anyone woke her up before she was ready – and anything short of a solid eight hours' sleep leads to a Rose Weasley on the warpath.

However, as she makes her way out of the Ravenclaw common room, munching on an apple as she goes, she's fully aware of the fact that this isn't a mood she can maintain. For many students, this is their first Hogsmeade weekend; it wouldn't be fair to give the inaccurate impression that chaperoning them is a chore. Plus, she's certain that, should she appear in a foul mood, Scorpius would make constant comments about it all day – and report it to Professor McGonagall. She wouldn't be surprised if he had a little black book listing her faults to take to the Headmistress in order to get Rose replaced.

As she arrives in the Great Hall, she's a little dismayed to see that Scorpius is already there. She's definitely on time – in fact, she's fifteen minutes early. And yet he's already here.

"Hey," she says as she approaches, her tone sharp.

Scorpius looks up, his expression almost amused. "So we're on 'hey' terms now? Better watch it, Weezie, or people might get the impression that you're giving up on your useless and pointless vendetta against me."

Of course Scorpius would have to lower the tone immediately.

"Isn't 'hey' how people usually greet one another, Scorpius?" Rose responds, the smile on her face almost genuine – she enjoys arguing with Scorpius far too much. "I mean, I thought that was how Head Boys and Girls greeted one another, anyway, or maybe I got that wrong."

He looks back at her, his expression calculating. It's enjoyable for Rose to watch him: he can't tell whether she's being serious or not, whether the comment is implicitly barbed in some way.

"Hey," comes his response, his voice wary.

Rose smiles even more brightly, elated. She's won – this round, at least.

"So what have you got there?" she asks, looking over at the pile of parchment on the table in front of him. It's a complete mess – the complete opposite of how it would be if she had started it, of course.

"Something you – er, just the lists of students who have permission to go to Hogsmeade," Scorpius replies.

It's evident to Rose that he had intended to respond scathingly, but thought better of it. With only a few lapses, this has been their unspoken mantra ever since they met with Professor McGonagall. Whilst on their official Head duties, they are civil to one another – the few words they speak, anyway. Most of their time together is spent in silence, which is strange for Rose. Having grown up with such an extended family (and an extroverted little brother), silence has always been elusive. Until this year, that is.

"Isn't it usually in one long document though?" Rose questions, scrunching her nose up. When she assisted with a couple of the Hogsmeade weekends in sixth year, the list had always been in one piece; it seemed to take forever to find some of the students' names.

Scorpius nods. "Yeah…it was. We still have a master copy in case this doesn't work, but I figured that if we split up the list into year and house, we stand a better chance of getting through the groups faster," he explains. For the first time that Rose can remember, there's not even a hint of malice in his voice. Does he sound almost…passionate to Rose's ears? Surely not about a list. "I know people like you have a cross-house friendship group, but most students tend to stick to their house, especially for Hogsmeade trips. Theoretically, therefore we'll be able to cross off all students from one short list, rather than hunting through an alphabetised list to find each student individually."

Rose is almost impressed. Sod it, she's actually impressed – not that she'll show it. Splitting the list up into year group and house is logical. Scorpius is also right in asserting that most people stick to house friendship groups – whilst inter-house friendships are on the up, they're still usually in addition to strong intra-house friendships.

Stifling a yawn, she nods. "Sounds alright I suppose," she concedes, noting how Scorpius's face momentarily betrays his irritation. "The question is, will it be sorted for 9am when the masses gather to go to Hogsmeade?"

Scorpius turns away again, picking up some sheets of parchment as he does so. "We will be if you actually do something to help, rather than just yawning. Did you get no sleep last night – or did your snoring just keep waking you up again?"

Forcing herself to count to ten before responding, Rose drops her bag on the floor and moves to the other side of the table.

Then, with a great deal of effort, she brings herself to ask, "what would you like me to do?"

She doubts she'll ever be able to think of this morning again without remembering Scorpius's smug face and wanting to punch him.

Two hours later, and every student who has permission to go to Hogsmeade has left the castle. This allows Rose and Scorpius to join their fellow students on the way down to the village.

Rose is thankful for the bright sunshine outside; she's still very tired, but after three cups of coffee, she's just about awake enough to survive the day. She's always been a fan of the sunshine – growing up in the very south of England meant that she was accustomed to seeing it nearly every day. Up here, there's about two hours of sunlight a week in winter. She's still not entirely certain on her future after Hogwarts, but one thing she can guarantee is that she won't be working in the Scottish Highlands.

The weather also gives her another conversation topic to broach with Scorpius at some point on this very long day. According to Professor McGonagall, they are "on duty" in Hogsmeade until six in the evening, which is the students' curfew. Should they desire it, both Rose and Scorpius have permission to remain in the village until eight pm, in order to pursue their own shopping interests – though they have to remain together.

Rose highly doubts she'll be in Hogsmeade one minute after six.

Spending her whole day practically alone with Scorpius has been a cause of concern for Rose for weeks, though she would barely even admit it to herself. Being on duty means that there will be a degree of professionalism all day – especially as she knows many of the teachers enjoy a day trip down to the village themselves – which means that there will be no catty comments. Yet she can't remember a time that she's had a sustained conversation with her counterpart which hasn't ended in either a duel or an argument (or both). So, almost subconsciously, she's attempted to compile a list of possible conversations that they could have to get them through the day.

Thus far, the list consists of Quidditch, NEWTs, Professor McGonagall, and now the weather.

"So…nice weather," Rose comments, taking the plunge as they near the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Beyond this point, they could Apparate anywhere – or, more true to their nature, have a duel without any adult interference. Unlike the last time that they attempted to duel outside of Hogwarts, which resulted in an indeterminate number of lectures from her mother, the need to fill out fifteen forms and face the (very unlikely) prospect of losing her wand.

Scorpius looks at her, his expression suspicious. "Yes…?" He trails off, clearly unsure if Rose is attempting to trick him.

"Well, it's nice, isn't it?" Rose continues. "It's so rare to get sunshine all the way up here – I really enjoy getting to go out and about when it's sunny. Nothing worse than rain and clouds."

"Weasley, what are you doing?"

Rose smiles back at a clearly perplexed Scorpius. "What I am doing, Scorpius, is trying to fill a very long day with some conversation," she says, pointedly using his name. "I don't know about you, but whenever I come to Hogsmeade I come to have fun, not just spend a day walking around in silence. I am tired, and just want to have a nice, normal day, even if it is with you. Is that too much to ask?"

There's at least a minute's silence before Scorpius replies.

"I just didn't think that the weather would be something that enthrals you enough to have a full conversation about."

Without a beat, Rose responds. "Well, it isn't. But I definitely could have done it – it just seemed like a safe topic of conversation, that's all."

They're nearing the steepest part of the path towards the village, a section which has been dangerous since the very first time they visited Hogsmeade – and yet it still hasn't been adapted. Rose makes a mental note of it, remembering when she fell ten feet in three seconds on the Christmas visit in fourth year.

Scorpius laughs. "Of course you could, We—Rose." His tone turns more serious as he continues, "watch out for that ridge."

Rose bites back what she wants to say – a comment about whether he thinks she's blind – and merely replies, "thanks."

What she absolutely doesn't expect, however, is for Scorpius Malfoy to offer her his hand as they make their way down the steep slope.

"I'm alright, but thanks anyway," Rose insists, deliberately stuffing her hands in her pockets.

Scorpius grins, his expression similar to when he's talking to Nick Wood, fellow Ravenclaw. "Do you want to repeat what happened in fourth year, or has your balance actually improved?" He leans in closer – closer, Rose thinks, than they've ever voluntarily stood next to one another. "Don't worry – Albus isn't around to alter his odds in his ridiculous little betting syndicate," he adds.

Rose glares at him. "I didn't fall because I have bad balance, you flobberworm!" She exclaims, immediately regretting her use of 'flobberworm'. Calling Scorpius a flobberworm isn't exactly being 'polite and civil'. "I fell because it was icy and I had a lot of shopping, not because I couldn't put one foot in front of the other."

Shaking his head, Scorpius drops his hand, though he's still grinning. At what, Rose doesn't know. "Suit yourself. Just because you can't accept the truth."

Defiantly, Rose keeps her hands in her pockets as she descends the slope, keeping her head high as she does so. It's a small victory, but it means a great deal – especially on a day where they're apparently being civil to one another.

However, the exchange has left her with an idea for the rest of their duty.

"Why don't we play the truth-lie game?" Rose suggests, attempting once again to have a polite tone to her voice. Or at least what she perceives as a polite tone, anyway.

Scorpius turns to look at her once again, perplexed once again. Normally, she would make a comment about him constantly being confused – but she'll save that for another day. Strange, that she hadn't noticed his perplexed expression before today.

"The truth-lie game? Never heard of it."

"Ma—Scorpius, I've played this game with my friends almost every Friday night for six years, and nearly always in the Ravenclaw common room. I'm pretty concerned if you've never once seen us playing it."

Scorpius chuckles, something that Rose has never heard before. Sure, she's heard him laugh – but it's almost always been at least partially malicious. This though…this is as if he's actually amused.

"Believe it or not, I do have other things to do beside try and pick fights with you," he responds, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Bloody hell, it's colder than I thought it would be down here."

They're almost at the village, and the chatter of hundreds of Hogwarts students who have been let loose is growing in volume.

"Well if that's the case, these are the rules," Rose continues, even though she's almost certain that he's lying. "You think of four sentences, and say them – we normally write them down, but that's a little bit pointless when there's just two people – and then I have to work out which one is the lie. And then I do the same. It's quite fun. I'll give you ten minutes to think up some statements."

Silence falls once again as they descend into the village, and catch sight of the first Hogwarts student – who, thankfully, appears to be in a group of four. Rose isn't entirely sure what the punishment is for going around Hogsmeade alone, but she's glad she doesn't have to think one up within the first ten seconds of entering the village.

They manage to make their way around the village without any major drama, though Scorpius still hasn't come up with his statements. Every minute or two, a couple of students approach the pair of them before running away, giggling like mad, and Rose has a sneaking suspicion that this is something to do with Albus and his godforsaken bet.

"That bloody boy," Rose mutters quietly – though not quietly enough for Scorpius not to hear.

"Eh?"

"My cousin – Al, and his stupid bet," Rose elaborates, blushing a little. Even though Scorpius had already mentioned it, she still feels a little awkward discussing the bet with him. It's something that will never come to fruition given she hates his guts, but it just seems a little weird to discuss a bet about when people think you'll get together.

"And what exactly does that have to do with random students approaching us and then running away like immature teenagers?"

Rose waits until all of the students are out of earshot before she replies.

"Because they're probably trying to see if it's likely that they're going to win, and don't care if they're being subtle."

They're fast approaching the Shrieking Shack, the wind increasing incrementally with every step that they take. Soon, Rose's long hair has blown into her face, and the sharp wind is biting at her exposed fingers. It's only October, but she wishes that she had thought to bring gloves with her.

"Well, I think we can safely agree that the odds of us becoming friends are so low it's never going to happen, let alone…anything else," Scorpius responds, raising his voice so that Rose can hear him over the wind. "I've got my statements. Can we go back to the village?"

Rose bites her lip for a moment before turning; there's no point trying to nod – Scorpius probably wouldn't even be able to see her head move. She's a little torn because, officially, they should patrol up to the very edge of the Hogsmeade boundary – but it's windy, there are no students up here, and she's desperate for a double shot coffee. They can come back later.

"So…I've been on a bus – a Muggle one, that is. Two, I've never met my cousin. Three, my favourite book is Quidditch and Quaffles: A Guide to Chasing Form, and finally, I'm left handed," Scorpius announces as he too turns towards Hogsmeade.

Rose feels her heart sink. These are easy statements – nothing like the ones she normally comes up with for her friends – and yet she can't immediately tell which one is the lie. Given they've spent six years in the same school – in the same class – how can she know so little about the boy she hates?

"Right…" she begins her thought process aloud. "Well, I think the bus is a red herring – you want me to choose that as the lie, because I know how much of a pureblood 'wizards are better' person you are. So that's a truth."

Scorpius stops dead still, removing one of his hands from his pocket and moving it across to the side, meaning that Rose also stops.

"What do you mean – pureblood 'wizards are better' person?" He demands. "It might have escaped your notice, Weasley, but I'm not exactly popular with the Slytherin crew, am I? And last I checked, it was the the Parkinsons, Flints and the Montagues who really believed in all that shit the last time around. Just because I'm a pureblood doesn't mean that I think I'm better than everyone else."

Rose is silenced, so Scorpius continues. "I shouldn't actually be offended because this is you – the person who thinks that I'm an antagonising, idiotic loner, though now I'm apparently that plus someone who secretly cavorts with the pureblood supremacist families to, I don't know, maybe bring back the old days? Where did you get that idea from?"

Silence reigns once again as Rose thinks of what she can say. Because what can she say? Sorry, I just absorbed my father's prejudices against your family and assumed you, too, were a supremacist? As, realistically, she knows that she's wrong; with how strongly he has attacked her, it's clear that she was wrong. About this one tiny element which coloured her opinion of him. Not the rest of it.

"I'm…I guess I was wrong," Rose responds. "I didn't mean to offend you, I guess…but – and I'm not saying that this excuses it – you've literally referred to my family as blood traitors as well. And that's a pretty supremacist thing to say, yeah?"

He scoffs. "I said that because you said that I was a supremacist!"

"No you didn't! I only thought you were a supremacist because you called my perfectly respectable family a group of traitors!" Rose feels herself getting angry and forces herself to calm down, by counting to ten. It doesn't work.

"Pretty sure anyone who was in the common room that day would back me up!" Scorpius shouts back, no longer caring about whether or not anyone can see them arguing.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure everyone can remember six years ago – but if they can, they'll remember you calling the Weasleys a family of blood traitors!" Rose screams, her voice becoming increasingly high pitched.

The wind has calmed down enough for her to move her hair out of her face – and for it to stay out – but before Scorpius can respond, Rose notices a person standing to their left, laughing.

Albus.

"Well, well, well," Al begins, his tone amused. "What do we have here – a rowing Head Boy and Girl? If only we had placed a bet on how long it would take you to argue whilst on duty…oh wait, I have!"

He holds out a piece of parchment which Rose attempts to snatch, though the much taller Albus swiftly moves it above her head.

"Ah, that's right, I placed the bet that you'd argue at Hogsmeade – so thanks guys, you've made me a lot of money!"

Rose attempts once more to grab the piece of parchment, and, again, fails miserably.

"Please don't spread this, Al," she pleads. "I don't want McGonagall to find out that we couldn't even make it through the first morning at Hogsmeade because of his inability to keep his mouth shut."

"Hey, I think you'll find you were the one who started the shouting!" Scorpius retorts, taking a step closer to the pair of cousins. Addressing Albus, he says, "look, mate, yeah we were arguing. But if you could keep it quiet, maybe move your bet to another day, we'll…we'll orchestrate an argument or something then so that you still win. Fair?"

Al narrows his eyes, and Rose can see his mind calculating. Though all three Potter children had ended up in Gryffindor, to this day Albus is the only one Rose could see in another house.

"Deal," Al responds. "But I choose the time and the place – and the topic of the argument."

"Deal," Rose echoes, her tone weary. "Now piss off and find Lindsay and Poppy so we don't have to report you."

Making a salute, Al responds, "aye-aye, captain!" before skulking off into the distance.

Rose, meanwhile, can only place her face in her hands. "I can't believe we had to do that," she murmurs to herself, before standing up straight again.

They continue walking, this time in complete silence, for another hour or so before Rose broaches the subject once again. Realistically, she knows she shouldn't, but her curiosity (and inability to not find out all of the facts) means she can't leave Hogsmeade without knowing which one was the lie.

"Look, Ma-Scorpius, I'm sorry if I caused offence," she begins, regretting her choice of words once again. "I don't think you're a Death Eater or a pureblood supremacist or whatever – I know you're not exactly on the best of terms with Warrington or Montague. So, can we just move on from that?"

Scorpius turns to face her for the first time since the argument, and nods, his face expressionless. "I accept your apology – and I also apologise for calling your family blood traitors. That was a particularly tactless comment, given my family's history, and it's not true – what even is a blood traitor exactly? So yeah, I agree, let's just move on."

They're walking fast enough that the students passing by on their way to the Three Broomsticks or Weasley's Quidditch Wheezies (a franchise established between Louis and Uncle George) won't be able to hear their conversation, but Rose is keen for it to end as soon as possible. Admitting that she has been wrong for six years regarding even just one element of Scorpius Malfoy's character would be a major mistake.

"I guess that the statement about never meeting your cousin – I guess that's Teddy – is a lie." Rose takes a punt at continuing the game from earlier. "You can't seriously have never met him. It's plausible that that's your favourite book, and I'm almost certain you're left handed."

"I should be offended that you think such a dull book would be my favourite book," Scorpius responds. "It's true – I've never met Teddy, beyond seeing him briefly at Platform 9 and ¾ in first year. Grandmother has, and my dad probably has too, but it's rare for us to visit Great-Aunt Andromeda other than at New Year. And yeah, I'm left-handed. We've shared a table before, Weasley, how did you not notice?"

Rose is dumbstruck for a moment. Given the close connections between her and her extended family, she couldn't imagine having a cousin that she's never met. But, almost guiltily, she realises that she includes Teddy as a permanent part of her family – and she had never really considered before the fact that he has family other than the Potter-Weasley clan. Especially as, part of their traditions, the cousins have spent every New Year together since Rose can remember.

"Wow, that must be…so quiet," she says. "Just you and your parents? And grandparents?"

Scorpius snorts. "Grandparents? We don't really see my grandfather other than for big events; he's still ashamed of me being the first Malfoy not in Slytherin…" he trails off, and Rose instinctively realises that he didn't mean to share this information.

She swiftly changes the subject. "Right, so it's almost twelve, which means that it's lunchtime. I'm absolutely dying for a coffee and a sandwich – shall we get something to go from Brown's Bakery?"

Rose isn't sure, but for a split second she thinks she sees relief flash across Scorpius's face. It's been a strange day, thinking about the past; now she thinks about it, did she really hear him call her a blood traitor first? Not that she would ever admit this to anyone, of course.

As the Head Boy and Girl make their way to the best bakery in Hogsmeade, an illicit transaction occurs up near the Shrieking Shack.

Ten galleons are handed over, and in exchange a confetti cannon is returned.

"It just looks like a Muggle one – is that right?" The buyer comments, their voice muffled by the wind.

"That's the point – though it's much more powerful than anything you could buy in the Muggle world. Just don't go and use it in front of Malfoy or Rose Weasley."

"Why would I?"

"You're new to this, mate, I've gotta go through the rules," the seller continues. "The black market has been around for six years. There's a short list of people involved. If we get found out, bets are that it's you. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I appreciate any opinions about the story!