A/N: Sorry, it's so short, plces to go, people to see and all, but I did promise that i'd update everyday, so I figured that a short update was better than no update at all. And guess what? Rose and Scorpius don't have one snarky word with each other. Not one. So, I think the children are finally growing up. Finally. Let me know what you think, you know how much it means to me.

Disclaimer: Erm. My name is Amy (okay, Luce, Mimi) not Joanne? You get what I'm getting at, right?

Another disgustingly early morning for me.

This time it's so that I can read the letter that my mom sent me yesterday, which I'd sort of forgotten about in the drama of the evening.

I grab the letter from my bedside table and open it in the precise way that I've inherited from my mother; from the centre out to the left, back to the centre and then to the right, all without ripping the parchment.

"Dear Rosie" I read aloud, "How was your first week back at school? Now, Rosie, I hope you don't mind me writing so brashly, especially after that episode with your father, but I'm your mother and we've never really talked about the estranged subject of 'boys.' As you know, your dad is slightly concerned about what he saw going on in your bedroom when he came to talk to you, and he asked me to talk to you, witch to witch. Please, Rose, try and understand that he is your father and he's bound to be a bit overprotective, but all I'm asking you to do is consider other people's feelings. I've never met Scorpius Malfoy and I'm sure if you like him he's a lovely boy, but if you want to be in a relationship with him then it might be wise to discuss it with your father and I first"

The letter continues in a different vein, the usual, how everybody's doing at home (which is generally the reason her letters are so long) and the like.

By the end of it I feel all happy and snugly inside as if I'm back at home, but then I re-read the beginning and realise that

a) My mom is absolutely clueless when it comes to anything to do with the opposite sex and

b) My love life is a complete mess.

This is one of those times that I need Victoire.

Victoire has always been something of a specialist when it comes to love, because she's been inundated with love letters since the age of about five.

Damn that Veela blood.

I traipse around my bedroom for a little while, brushing my hair and locating school books but my wandering is aimless.

I feel pathetic.

And then, I realise that I haven't had one single thought about Danny since my crying session last night, and that makes me feel more than pathetic.

It makes me feel downright evil.


Weasley looks more than a little miserable when she comes out of her room.

"Morning Weasley" I say, lightly, testing the waters, since I don't know how she'll react after last night.

"Morning Malfoy" she replies weakly, and an awkward silence follows.

"Are you going down to breakfast?" I ask, with a roughness in my voice that I never intended to be there.

"Uh, yeah" she says, her speech awkward also, "We could go down together"

So, I open the portrait hole for her and let her go first, like the perfect gentlemen.

"Er, thanks again" Weasley starts, that awkwardness still present, "For last night, I mean, I kind of needed it, especially after, you know, Freddie acting like such a jerk and Al thinking he knows it all, and people just wouldn't-"

"You're babbling Weasley" I cut in, because it would be really quite embarrassing for her to have another break down, in the middle of a public corridor.

"Merlin, I am, aren't I?" she moans, clenching her fists by her sides and breathing deeply, "I really should just bang my head against the next wall I come to"

Since we are indeed coming up to a wall, and I'd prefer it if she didn't bash her head into it, I put my hand in the small of her back, and would have used it to guide her towards the staircase, if she hadn't jumped three feet in the air as soon as I touch her.

"What?" I ask sharply, thinking it's one of those 'Eew, I can't let a pureblood touch me' moments.

She shivers a little, and replies shakily, "Electric shock, that's all"

"Electric shock? What in Merlin's name is that?" I demand, as Weasley laughs.

"Oh, I'd have to go into electricity and all that. It's not even anything to do with electricity, I don't think. Maybe it's that static thing?"

There is no need to describe the puzzled look on my face, surely?

"Electricity? Static? What?"

"My mom's Muggle-born, remember?" she replies, and even though it's not exactly an explanation, I shrug it off and we continue on our way to the Great Hall.


"Somebody looks happy this morning" Lily greets, offering me a mug of coffee, which brightens my already pretty dazzling smile.

"Do I?" I ask, slipping next to her at the table and giving her a massive hug.

If this continues much longer I'm going to be happy when he's happy, moody when he's moody and even pissed at myself when he's pissed at me.

"Morning kids" Freddie chirps, shooting me that Uncle George grin that he shares with Hugo.

"What time on Saturday?" I ask cheerily, and my anger at him has kind of evaporated.

"That's the Rose Weasley I know!" Freddie exclaims, piling bacon, scrambled eggs, sausages, about fifteen slices of toast AND pancakes onto his plate. "Midday" he replies, as Roxanne looks at his plate, disgusted. "What?" Freddie demands, "Quidditch Captain here! I have to eat loads, just so I don't faint on my boom"

Roxanne flicks her red hair out of her face, and narrows her eyes in a very similar manner to Lucy.

"Those cookies?" she asks, puzzling Lily, Molly, Louis, Hugo and by the looks of it, Freddie himself, though, if we're judging by the voice emanating from his throat, that innocence might just be feigned.

"Cookies? Care to describe these cookies?" he asks nonchalantly, putting another forkful of breakfast in his mouth.

Roxanne's lips press together and form a thin line, as she replies through gritted teeth, "Of the chocolate chip variety. Bought by mom, for me. Disappeared sometime three weeks ago, before I even had a chance to open the packet."

"Oh, those cookies?" Fred says, and the look on Roxanne's face shows the rest of us that it's about time to duck under the table for cover. "Yeah, I ate them" he continues, and Molly covers her ears with her hands, just in case.

She is not disappointed.

"FRED WEASLEY" Roxanne screeches, and a first year Hufflepuff at the next table jumps in sheer fright.

"I'm off" I mutter, leaving Lily in awe of the power of our cousin's voice.

"Oh, alright" Lily murmurs inattentively out of the corner of her mouth, and as I leave the hall I can still hear Roxanne shrieking about cookies and personal space and crime.

Oh, how I love my family.


Care of Magical Creatures is one of those classes that you just can't take at NEWT level unless you actually enjoy it.

Which is why my parents completely freaked when I told them that I was going to take it last year.

My father went on about being attacked by a hippogriff, the teacher being an oaf, it being an unsuitable class for a wizard of my station.

To which I say, only an idiot could get themselves attacked by a hippogriff, Hagrid isn't the world's best teacher, but he knows Magical Creatures inside out and Lassiter takes the class with me, and his station is almost as elevated as that of the hallowed Malfoy's.

Lassiter and I are the only two wizards in the NEWT class, which is a class of only six anyway. The other four are witches; three Hufflepuffs and a Gryffindor, and that's the entire class.

So, whilst they simper over the unicorn that Hagrid has requested that Lassiter and I stand away from, we have a talk, merely to stave off boredom.

"How's Mariah?" he asks politely, over the squeals of delight, as the unicorn stamps a hoof.

"She's good thanks, er, Weasley?" I respond, supposing that if he'd asked, I should probably do the same.

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" he laughs, as if I'd forgotten that I live with the girl.

"Oh, yeah, 'course I do" I reply, and I want to punch his grinning face.

Better than that, I want to tell him everything that Weasley said last night, that'd really hurt.

But, I can't.

Even I know that what is told in those emotionally draining crying sessions stays between the two people conversing.

My mother does read Witch Weekly, you know.

"So, are you going to Hogsmeade with her this Saturday? Maybe we could meet up in the Hog's Head for a drink or something?" he asks, and I wonder whether this is his patented politeness, or whether he's been taking recreational drugs.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to be a gooseberry or anything Lassiter" I return, and the puzzled look on his face is satisfying, but I realise that I've just let slip a bit of information that I shouldn't have.

"What do you mean?" His tone is still friendly, but there is a clouding behind his brown eyes that I don't like the look of, "There wouldn't be a gooseberry. There'd be Rose and I, and you and Mariah. Like a double date. But you don't have to come if don't want to, it was just an idea" he adds hastily, as Hagrid calls our attention back to the lesson.

"Sorry, my thought processes aren't great at the moment" I whisper, as Hagrid explains the various virtues of unicorn blood and hair.

Lassiter doesn't respond, just gives me an odd look and I've never been more grateful that my focus is needed in class.

So, I guess Weasley hasn't told Lassiter that she's got Quidditch tryouts on Saturday then?