A/N:As you read this, please keep in mind that I am NOT a doctor, NOT a medical student, I am NOT an anatomical genius, NOR am I Gregory House, M.D (lol), so I really have NO idea about wounds or their long-term effects. AND that I am lazy, and don't care to look up what would happen if your lung got punctured, so forgive me for using creative license. But, if you ARE any of the above, (If you ARE Gregory House, M.D., then you're fucking awesome, because you're a fictional television character and somehow managed to post a review) and you would like to tell me what WOULD be any of the long-term effects of your lung getting punctured, or can tell me how what's happening to Scorpius is possible (Which probably only House would be able to explain) then I would be very, very happy to read your comments. And, if you DO know how what happened to Scorpius is possible, and know how to fix it, I'd be very happy to hear that too.

And I DON'T own Harry Potter.

Thanks,
~gfg

Chapter Fourteen

And the Truth Comes Out

"As you wish."
~The Princess Bride

I waited outside of Scorpius's room for what felt like hours. Uncle Harry had stayed with me for a while, but eventually left, saying he had some paperwork to fill out. I don't know why I didn't just go home and come back later. I should have, it was the logical thing to do, but I couldn't. I didn't want to.

I knew he was fine, and he was with his mother, but almost losing him had shaken me. I understood now, how he felt after I got poisoned. It was a terrible feeling, coming that close to losing the one you loved. How had my parents dealt with this on a daily basis?

I now understood Scorpius's paranoia, his overprotectiveness, his desire to keep me safe. I couldn't blame him. I felt the same about him.

The door to Scorpius's room creaked opened, and his mother looked just as shocked as she had the first time to see me there. She was pale and her eyes were very red. She didn't say a word to me, and her heels clicked as she exited the ward. I heard a deep voice outside say a few words to her, and realized my guard must have arrived. I didn't really care. I just entered the room, and walked to Scorpius.

His face had been set in a grim expression, but when he saw me his eyes lit up.

I perched myself on the edge of his bed.

"What'd you do to your mum? She looked like she'd been crying."

His face turned hard again.

"My dad."

"What do you mean?"

"He's just being an ass, that's all," he said, huffing in frustration. "It's putting my mum under a lot of stress. And this, me getting hurt, it doesn't help. So she sort of snapped on me. Said I shouldn't be keeping secrets from her. Did-did you tell her about us?"

"I—" I started, looking down at my shoes. "Yes, yes. I coul—"

"Dammit, Rose, why would you do that?"

"She guessed!"

"Well why on earth didn't you lie to her?"

"It was . . . I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"You . . ." he fell into an angry silence, glaring at the bed sheet, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Scorpius!" I said, my temper rising. "I'm sorry, alright! I couldn't lie to her, I tried, but it just didn't come out right."

Scorpius put his face in his hands.

"Dammit, Rose. You've fucked things up now. Thanks, thanks a lot."

I stood, my cheeks growing hot and angry tears pricking my eyes.

"What is wrong with you? You knew we'd have to tell them eventually. You didn't even care! It was my family that was the problem! Why does it matter?"

He looked up at me, anger glaring in his grey eyes while the tears started slipping from my own. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.

"You ass! It was a mistake, an accident! It doesn't even really matter, and you're blaming me! My uncle knows about us, I don't know if my dad knows or not, and you knew, you knew!You knew it was going to come out eventually! We both knew what we were getting into when we started this mess! Not that I had much of a choice in it anyway—"

"You were poisoned!"shouted Scorpius angrily, swinging himself out of his bed to stand in front of me. "What did you expect me to do? Sit by while you died in front of me?"

"Speaking of death, you just nearly died! And now you want to argue with me over something so bloody stupid! Don't you understand how that makes me feel?"

Tears were flowing thick and fast down my face now, and something snapped in Scorpius's eyes. And all of a sudden his arms were around me, and I was pushing him away, but his arms around me were strong, and he would not let me go. And instead of hitting him now I was clinging to him, he was holding my head to his chest, tears pouring down my face and onto his hospital robe.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in my ear, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion. "I'm sorry, Rosie, I'm sorry."

"I was so scared . . . I am scared . . . Scorpius I don't want to lose you . . ."

"I know, Rosie, I know. . ."

He held me, stroked my hair, kissed my head, while I poured all my fears and worries into his chest.

"Rosie," he whispered when I had finally fell silent. I raised my head to look at him. My cheek was warm and all my tears had evaporated. He slipped a warm finger under my chin and looked down at me.

I prepped myself to hear a long speech to make all my fears go away, and indeed, he opened his mouth, but closed it again almost immediately. Instead Scorpius leaned down and kissed me, ever so gently, though I could feel the passion, the fear that was haunting both of us. And then he let go, and sat back down on his bed, leaving me standing there to wonder the mysterious ways which men's brains worked.

"I want to invite him for dinner."

Ron looked up at his wife over his morning paper, whose front page headline screamed "MINISTER TO RETIRE!" Ron looked completely baffled. Hermione sighed in irritation.

"Scorpius Malfoy. I want to invite him for dinner."

Ron choked on a piece of bacon.

"Have—you—gone—mad?"said Ron when he had cleared his airway.

"No, I haven't," said Hermione, glaring at her husband. "And I would appreciate it if that wasn't your first reaction every time I suggest something you don't like."

"I'm not having him in my house," snarled Ron.

"Our house," corrected Hermione angrily.

"I'm not having it. Put it out of your head right now, I'm not going to allow it."

"I wasn't asking your permission," fired Hermione, standing up and bristling.

Ron scowled at Hermione, making her feel the need to defend her decision.

"It's the decent thing to do, Ron! He's saved our daughter's life, and Rose hasn't left the hospital since he got injured except to eat and sleep, and not even then sometimes. I don't care what you think, I want to invite him for dinner."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!

"NO!"

"YES!"

They had both stood up, their hands angrily planted on the table, glowering daggers at each other, when Hugo walked in and rolled his eyes, well used to his parent's bickering, and opened the fridge.

"Glad to see you two aren't that worried," said Hugo, taking out the milk and chugging it straight from the carton.

Hermione stomped over to her son angrily and ripped the milk from his grasp, spilling some of it on the floor.

"Hey!" said Hugo incredulously.

"Oh, get a glass!" said Hermione, shoving the milk back to him. Hugo scowled, and, instead of getting a glass, stuffed the milk back in the fridge, and stormed out of the room.

Hermione turned back to her husband.

"Now, Ron, you might be ignoring what's going on—"

"At your request!"

"Fine!" she shouted angrily, "Fine! At my request, I stopped you from killing the poor boy, or punching him, and stopped you from getting in a fight with your daughter which would probably tear our family apart!"

"Now that's a load of cockamamie bullshit! Rose is just being stupid and stubborn—"

"No, Ron, she's not! YOU'RE the one being stupid and stubborn! Don't you see what's going on here?"

"Of course I do! She's run off with the enemy's son just to piss me off! If I call her on it, she'll dump him and come back to us!"

"No she won't Ron," said Hermione in a pleading voice which caught Ron's attention. "No she won't."

Ron lowered his arms and stared at his wife, baffled again.

"Why wouldn't she? She's our daughter."

Hermione looked up at Ron, biting her lip to hide its' trembling, hoping he would understand.

"Because she loves him, Ron."

Ron's eyes went wide in horror.

"What? Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you said."

"I did, Ron. You have to understand. Please try to understand. She loves him; she loves him like I love you. And nothing we can say or do will make her leave him. I know our daughter, I know how she thinks, how she feels, and what she would do, which is exactly what I would do. And I would never leave your side, even if my parents hated you."

Ron's shoulders slumped, and he slumped back into his chair. Hermione's heart sank at the sight of her defeated-looking husband.

"No," he whispered in denial. "You're wrong."

Tears pricked her eyes, and she wished she could give Ron a different answer.

"No," she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and concealing her tears in his robe. "No I'm not."

"I'm not going to lose my only daughter to a Malfoy."

"We already have, Ron."

"No," said Ron, but his voice sounded so defeated it made Hermione want to run to the hospital herself, drag their daughter home, and forbid her from ever seeing Scorpius again. But she knew it wouldn't do any good at all. It would only tear their family apart, and she didn't think she could bear that burden, ever.

"They want me to do what?"

"It's just dinner, Scorpius."

"No. No. Absolutely not. I'd rather get blown up again."

"Don't say that, please."

I sighed, pacing my hospital room. I was quickly growing bored and if the Healers didn't say I could leave soon, I was going to walk out no matter what they said. I felt perfectly fine. Aside from the occasional paralyzing spasm of pain in my chest, perfectly fine. Really.

"Why on earth would they invite me to dinner?"

"Because . . ." Rose hesitated, and I knew she was getting ready to drop a bomb. Er, not a literal bomb, or course. Metaphorically speaking. "Because I think they know about us. Hugo overheard them the other day, arguing about whether or not they should invite you to dinner. Mum was all for it, but dad wouldn't hear a word of it. Of course, they know I've come over to the hospital to visit you, but I hoped . . . I hoped they'd think we were just friends or something, break it to them slowly . . ."

"But?"

"But Hugo . . . Hugo overheard mum say that I . . . that I loved you, like she did dad, and I wouldn't leave your side no matter what they said."

I stood in shocked silence, a strange warmth flooding my heart and to the tips of my fingers. Rose was avoiding my eyes completely, her cheeks glowing bright red. I thought I had known the depth of her affection for me, but hearing it spoken out loud in that context, as someone else's words. Her mother's words. It was strange, but it felt. . . very good. Especially considering her reaction telling me. It meant it was true.

She glanced up at me very quickly, but did a double take and watched me closely.

"What?" I said softly.

She looked at me, reading my face.

"Nothing," she said, smiling. "You just looked . . . nothing, nevermind."

I shrugged, nonplussed.

"Okay," I said. I hugged myself.

"Are you cold?" she asked me.

"A little. I've been getting cold flashes since . . ."

Rose stood, took a thick blanket slung over the chair, and draped it over my shoulders. She stood in front of me, fussing over the arrangement of the blanket, avoiding my eyes.

"Thanks," I said, taking her hands, stopping her from fussing over me, watching her face carefully. She was still flushed from embarrassment, making her look very pretty. I pulled her to my chest, wrapping the blanket around us both. She pressed her hands to my chest and I rested my chin on her head.

"Hugo also said . . ."

She stopped, though, and still would not look at me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her nose into my chest.

"What?" I prodded gently. "What else did Hugo say?"

"That . . . that dad said," and now her voice was quivering, her arms tightened around me, and she could barely choke out what she said next. "That he wasn't going to lose his only daughter to a Malfoy."

I pulled away from her, stung by the words. She looked up at me, searching my face. I didn't want her to see how deep those words cut, so I held her head to my chest again, where undoubtedly she heard the loud thumping of my heart.

"I—I'm sorry, Scorpius?"

It was more of a question, she didn't understand why those words hurt so much.

But then, she wasn't a Malfoy.

"Scorpius?"

I was a good person! Wasn't I? Why did it matter if my last name was Malfoy? Who was Ronald Weasley to judge me, anyway? All he'd ever done was hate my father, hate me, irrationally and unreasonably. Sure, my father had been a Death Eater, and his father, but I had never met my grandfather, he had been in Azkaban until the day he died! My grandmother had hardly spoken to him of me, and my dad pretended like he had never existed!

"Scorp . . . ?"

And yes, my dad had been convicted as a death eater, but Harry didn't believe he had anything to do with what was going on! For Merlin's sake I was working for the Auror office! Didn't that mean anything to the man? Why couldn't he just-?

"Scorpius!"

Rose had been shaking me as I zoned out. I looked down at her concerned face and barely registered it. I gently pried her away from me, my anger rising. Why, why, WHY did I have to be a Malfoy? Why did my father lack the power to say 'no!'

I gripped the end of the bed frame tightly, my knuckles going white. I felt Rose's eyes on the back of my head.

"Why me, Rosie?" I asked, my voice not betraying the anger I felt.

"What?"

"Why me?" I asked, my voice rising. "Why do I have to be a Malfoy?Why can't I just be someone with a last name that doesn't strike anger or pity in everyone? Why can't I be someone else? Someone who could love you without all these stupid complications, someone your parents could like, someone who wouldn't tear apart your family by loving you."

"I . . . you don't . . . it's not—"

"No!" I growled, whipping around to face her. "Don't say stuff to make me feel better about it that isn't true, that can never be true!"

"Scorpius, what—"

"It's not—bloody—fair!"

My anger, my temper, was fast consuming me. I ran to the wall, and punched it, hard as I could, but before my fist made full impact, pain flared in my chest, and I fell to the ground.

"Scorpius!" I found myself shouting, rushing towards him, rolling him over as he clutched his chest, his eyes like ice from his pain.

"Help!" I screamed, knowing my guard outside the room would hear. The door banged open, and in rushed my guard, who had seen this scene more than once over the past couple of days, and immediately called in a Healer.

People were rushing about me, saying things that I didn't care to listen to, pulling me off Scorpius, dragged him away from me to his bed, forcing a potion down his throat. All I saw was his eyes, so full of pain, never leaving my face, making me irrationally panicky, until his breathing calmed, and those ice silver eyes closed, and he passed out on the bed.

The Healers rushed about his unconscious body, waving their wands, checking who cares what, while I fell into the chair across the room, staring, horrorstruck, at Scorpius with tears in my eyes. I barely registered that there was only one healer left in the room. The good-looking one that had patched me up, who was the Healer in charge of the ward, and he was now looking at me stoically.

"Please," I begged him. "Please, can't you do anything to help him? Can't you stop this?"

"I'm trying everything I can, Miss Weasley, but you have to be patient."

"My patience is wearing thin!" I shouted, stomping my foot. "I can't bear seeing him like this! You have to do something! You have to help him!"

There was something like pity in his handsome face, and . . . something else.

"I will," he said, "I promise."

Then he left the room.

I staggered over to Scorpius, blinded by my tears, and sat down in the chair, pulling it up to his bed and plopping my head down in my arms by his side, and cried my heart out.

It wasn't long before I felt his hand in my hair, his soft shushing noises, his calm voice telling me it was okay. But it didn't help. It couldn't, not when I felt like this. Not when he was hurt, not when my whole world felt like it was collapsing around me. He sat up, grimacing from pain, and pulled me into his chest.

Half blinded as I was from emotion, I didn't bother protesting, didn't care to hide the tears, and didn't tell him to stop holding me and lay down because it was hurting him. I didn't care. I was such a selfish bitch.

"I'm s-sorry!" I stammered, none making much sense even to myself. "Sorry . . . sorry . . . I'm selfish. . . selfish bitch, sorry, sorry, sorry . . ."

I was so stressed, so scared, so everything that it exploded from me in such a display of selfishness that even Draco Malfoy would be ashamed of. Stupid tears. Stupid me. Stupid world. Why did that asshole have to hurt Scorpius in the first place?

"Stop," said Scorpius, his voice filled with emotion and pain as he pulled me away from him, holding me up by my shoulders. "Stop, stop blaming yourself. You're not being selfish, and you're not a bitch. You're the kindest, strongest, most intelligent woman I know. Don't blame yourself. This wasn't your fault. It's not your fault I am who I am, it's not your fault I got hurt."

I shook my head, feebly protesting his valid arguments.

"You're scared, Rosie, I know you're stressed because of that and all this other shit. I'm scared, too. I don't want this guy to hurt you, or hurt you through me. I don't want to hurt your family. I didn't want any of this to happen, except to be with you. But being with you has consequences, and I don't like them. They all end up in you getting hurt."

"Don't—Scorpius . . ."

He gave me a long, searching gaze, a look that scared me. He swallowed, and closed his eyes, once again pulling me into his chest, holding me tightly. And it seemed he needed that embrace as much as I did.

"Why are you here?" he whispered into my hair. "Why are you with me? Why have you stayed with me all this time, knowing what it would cost you? Why didn't you just tell me to sod off?"

"Because I love you," I sniffed. "Because I can't bear to be without you. Because I'm terrified of losing you. Because you're worth any amount of pain."

"I don't see how," he said numbly, making me feel the need to set him straight before he got all I-don't-deserve-you on me.

I pulled away from him, cupped his face in my hand, and looked him good and proper.

"Because you're the bravest, kindest, most selfless man I know, because of the way I feel when I'm with you. Because you're the only one who can understand what I'm talking about half the time, because you care about me, you're so very, very patient with me, and you hold me when I cry. Because of the way you're eyes light up when you see me, because making you smile is better than any feeling in the world. I'm with you, Scorpius, because being with you is a thousand times better than being without you."

I looked at her in amazement, my heart racing, not knowing what on earth to say to that, but such a strong feeling lifted my heart and my head out of the deep place it had buried itself in, and was now basking in the sunlight.

I opened my mouth, stunned and moved beyond words. She seemed to know this, and before you could say "cheesy" she was kissing me, like we had never kissed before, like it could change the world. I felt like we understood each other just a bit better, and our relationship with each other was just a bit clearer.

That kiss made me feel like a new man.

We broke apart when I started to feel light-headed. He looked as dazed as I felt. We were staring at each other, our breathing labored.

"I could go for another one of those," I voiced breathlessly, and Scorpius nodded enthusiastically, his eyes dancing, and leaned in for another passionate kiss that was slightly less incredible, but still amazing none the less. His hands became tangled in my hair, and we held each other tightly, him pulling me down on the bed. I kicked my shoes off and jumped on him. He had on only his thin hospital robe, but I had on way too many articles of clothing.

He seemed to agree, and could not get my shirt unbuttoned fast enough. I pulled open his robe to expose his chest, and ran my hands over his deliciously ripped body, while he gazed at me starry-eyed. I leaned down to kiss him again, and he moaned in pleasure or impatience, I couldn't tell, but when I broke away from him, his eyes stayed firmly fixed on my chest, so I think I'm going to have to go with the latter.

He rolled on top of me, placing one leg between mine. I gasped. It took all my self-restraint not to rip off the rest of his robes right then and there and . . . and . . .

I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting my brain to catch up with the place my imagination was taking me. He stopped, feeling me freeze up. Scorpius whispered my name, brushing my hair out of my face, kissing me tenderly.

I groaned, opening my eyes to meet his, filled with concern.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "I'm taking advantage. I'll—I'll stop . . . i-if you want me to."

"No," I gasped. "No, you're not, it's wonderful. Don't stop. I just . . . just to second base, okay?"

He kissed me again, ever so softly.

"As you wish," he whispered. My heart skipped a beat.

A/N: So . . . I hope that wasn't too graphic there. This chapter was a little fluffier or . . . soppier than I'm quite comfortable. I'm finding it a bit difficult to juggle the romance and the action/adventure/mystery aspect. I'll get it there eventually. I hope. . . . anyway.

Please review! Thanks for reading!

~gfg