I woke up with a ridiculously stupid grin plastered across my face. I had been repeating the pattern for the last month, and the reason was always in the common room the second I bounded out of my bedroom door, dutifully waiting for me to get up, usually with a book in one hand and a half-eaten piece of toast in the other.

As per my new – and infinitely improved – routine, I threw myself out of bed and washed and dressed haphazardly, hurtling out of my room in double-quick time with my tie crooked and my hair dishevelled.

And as per my new routine, Rose was waiting, extending a piece of toast out to me calmly, The Charms Compendium propped open in her lap.

"I got you some toast, Scorp. D'you want it?" I took the food gladly, and leaned down to kiss her chastely on the lips. Long may this morning greeting continue, I thought approvingly.

"Thanks, Rosie," I said, my mouth already full. She wrinkled her nose at me in mild revulsion.

"You eat like my dad," she observed distastefully, watching me cram nearly a whole slice of toast into my mouth in one bite.

"'Orry!" I apologised, showering her with crumbs. She pulled a face and brushed the crumbs away, torn between exasperation and amusement. I watched the conflicting emotions fighting for dominance on her beautiful face, waiting until she had picked one way or the other before speaking again.

"Pig," she commented, and then smiled. Amusement won then.

"You love me really," I reminded her.

"Merlin knows why," Rose replied, with an eye roll to cap off her sarcasm.

I grinned at her blissfully, still not quite able to believe that my luck had changed so dramatically in such a short space of time.

"Guess what?" I began conversationally.

"What?" Rose answered, flicking the page in her textbook as she spoke, sucking the jam off the thumb on her other hand.

"I'm meeting Grandfather today in Hogsmeade."

Rose stopped sucking her thumb abruptly.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she demanded, surprised.

"Because he asked me to?" I made it sound like a question.

"But... Scorp, I don't know... your Grandfather... every time you speak about him, it just seems like he's up to something, and I don't know whether..."

"He said he misses me, and he just wants to have a chat and catch up, that's all. It's nothing to worry about." I patted her knee consolingly. Grandfather was a bit of a chore, but he was getting on a bit, and I didn't like to disappoint him.

"I don't like it."

"Rose, honestly, it'll all be fine. I'll go and have a drink with Grandfather, and then I'll come and meet you at two, okay?" I watched as Rose deliberated this, trying to find an angle to argue from, no doubt.

When it appeared that she couldn't find one, she sighed in defeat. "Okay."

"Did you tell your parents about us yet?" I asked, the thought suddenly occurring to me.

"I told my mum, but I think she saw it coming anyway. Not Dad yet though. I think he might just explode. I mean, he used to like you and everything, only, y'know, since everything that happened... not so much. What about you? Did you tell yours?" She leaned forward, clearly interested.

"Yup, told them by owl. Augustus came back with a note from Dad saying how happy he was for the both of us, and that Mum won't stop crying and bleating on about 'her little Scorpius in love' and the fact that you're 'such a smart, pretty girl' and that she's 'ecstatic'. I think it's fair to say that they took it pretty well."

Rose laughed, and her blue eyes sparkled with delight. "Yeah, you could say that."

"It's nice that they like you," I decided, cheered by the thought.

"Yeah, I know, it makes me feel a bit better about telling my dad. Although, I'm not entirely sure he won't hunt you down with an axe or something."

I turned a nasty shade of green, as something sickeningly unpleasant occurred to me. Rose chuckled at my expression, misinterpreting it.

"Don't worry, Scorp, I'll protect you," she assured me.

My face remained frozen in a look of utter horror.

"Scorp? What's the matter?" Rose looked concerned now.

"What... what if Dad told Grandfather, and that's why he wants to meet me today..." I trailed off, appalled at the thought. Rose's expression became alarmed now.

"He wouldn't... would he?" she asked, clearly worried. As well she should be. I was suddenly nervous about meeting my grandfather. What if he tried to do away with me or something? Or worse... what if he tried to hurt Rose?

"I don't know. He might not see the harm in it. Dad gives Grandfather too much credit."

"I suppose all you can do is find out," Rose sighed.

"Mmm," I agreed, though I was far from reassured.

***

Rose could feel my nerves as we walked through the centre of Hogsmeade. My hand was like a vice around hers; once or twice I felt her wince, but as she didn't protest I ignored it. I needed the support quite badly, and she was sweet enough to offer it.

It wasn't as though I was facing a death sentence. My father heartily approved of Rose, my mother asked me when I was planning on making her a Malfoy, and Grandma... well, she wouldn't care if the person I was dating was covered in scales, so long as she made me happy. So why did my Grandfather's opinion matter so much to me, I wondered.

Perhaps it was that inexplicable feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had, that sense that something calamitous was about to happen, and that it had something to do with this meeting. I'd always had a great gut instinct, and – to use a muggle reference Rose was so fond of – my spider-sense was tingling.

It was probably nothing more than the fact that my grandfather was just an inherently creepy man. There was something shifty about his steely eyes and his snake-like smile, something that made it almost impossible to trust him. I could compare him to smoke; suspicious and difficult to contain.

Rose applied a light pressure to my hand. Worrying about me, always worrying. I liked that.

I slowed to a reluctant halt outside the Three Broomsticks, and Rose stopped with me, though she did not relinquish her grip on my fingers.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" she whispered, but I shook my head.

"If he doesn't know, that would be a giveaway," I replied in a small voice. I really needed to buck up my ideas and start acting like I actually was a man.

"I love you," she murmured, standing on her toes to kiss me softly on the lips. I kissed her back briefly.

"Love you too," I answered, before squaring my shoulders and taking a step away from her. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Rose said obediently, smiling a smile that caused my stomach to do a backflip.

Taking a deep, calming breath and reassuring myself for the thousandth time that I was a grown-up and my grandfather really wasn't that scary, I took the steps to the door of the Three Broomsticks two at a time and pushed it open.

A swell of heat and chattering noise hit me full in the face. I reeled back from the intensity of it for a second, before sucking in one last gasp of frigid air and ducking through the open doorway.

"Scorpius!" Grandfather was impossible to not spot. His hair was waist length and undecided of its colour – whether it should be white or blond, it wasn't sure, so settled for a combination of the two. He wore his familiar shark-like smile.

I trudged over to his table, unsurprised to see that he had already ordered me a butterbeer. He loved to control everything around him, and as I was usually quite difficult to bully into submission, he had taken the liberty of ordering me a drink to prevent me from doing it myself, whilst managing to look kind and thoughtful. He truly was a master at work.

Sliding into the seat opposite him, I made an effort to show my manners. "Good afternoon, Grandfather. How are you today?"

He sat back in his chair with a hard-to-read expression, his eyes curiously devoid of any emotion – like metal. "I've been better, but then again, I've been worse."

What in Merlin's name was that supposed to mean?

"Uh... well... any particular reason that you wanted to see me today?" I asked cheerfully, taking a swig of my butterbeer.

"Weasley."

I gagged, coughed, and my drink dribbled out of my nose.

"W-Weasley?" I asked with some trepidation.

"Yes..." Grandfather was eyeing me warily now. "Ronald Weasley. He's that Potter boy's uncle, the one you used to be chummy with. He came to visit Narcissa and me and had the audacity to throw the war in our faces. It was, to be frank, verbal abuse."

I breathed out, relaxing. "Oh, right."

"Why did the name Weasley worry you, Scorpius?" Grandfather wondered, his metallic eyes boring into mine suddenly, in a very oppressive way.

"Because... nothing. I just... don't really like the Weasleys," I improvised.

Grandfather's expression grew complacent. "Who does?" he asked airily. "Other than the filthy half of the Wizarding World, blood traitors as they are."

That comment offended me as a slap in the face would have. I swallowed loudly. I shouldn't have to hide my relationship with Rose, I decided. If Grandfather didn't like it, then that was his prerogative. At least I wouldn't need to look over my shoulder and wonder when he would discover the truth.

"Grandfather, I was lying."

"Oh? About what?" he asked pleasantly, taking a sip of his Gillywater.

"About not liking the Weasleys. As a matter of fact, I do like the Weasleys. Because... because of Rose."

Grandfather's eyes narrowed. "Who might Rose be?"

I swallowed again, though my mouth was dry as a bone. "Rose... Weasley. Ron and Hermione's daughter and my... my... girlfriend." I choked the word out eventually, and Grandfather made a hissing sound like an angry Kneazle.

"Your what?" he demanded quietly, his tone poisonous. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, tell me you are joking!"

"Nope," I declared, refusing to chicken out now, even though he had just presented me with the option. "It's no joke. I'm in love with her. I plan to be for a considerable length of time. Possibly forever."

"But..." Grandfather spluttered. I had never seen him so incoherent in my life. "But you can't have just decided one day to fall in love with a Weasley!"

"No... but then, I've waited five years to admit it to her, so if I waited any longer I would be retired." My feeble attempt at a joke was eclipsed by his anger.

"YOU CANNOT BE IN LOVE WITH ROSE WEASLEY!" he bellowed, finally losing his hold on 'dignified'. I recoiled from his furious expression, as every head in the pub swivelled in our direction.

"Well I am! Deal with it!" I roared back, snatching up my cloak from the chair and getting to my feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Grandfather demanded furiously.

"To meet Rose and to get as far away from you as I can! You haven't changed Grandfather! You'll always be a Death Eater."

Though I barely whispered the words, there was a wave of whispers rippling through the pub when I uttered that insult. I picked up my bottle of butterbeer, downed it in one gulp, and set the empty container back on the shiny wooden table. I didn't look at Grandfather's face once.

Not bothering to see how much damage I had done, and no longer caring about whether my grandfather would ever speak to me again, I marched out of the Three Broomsticks, leaving the door swinging on its hinges in my angry wake.