A/N: Wow wow wow! This chapter; I adore this chapter! Yes, yes, I know it's very biased of me to say that since I'm the author and all but still. It's long and dramatic and pieces together some of my loose ends. 'Kay, may I also be very happy to declare that year 1 has almost finished! Yay! I'm the sort of writer who writes when inspiration hits and when writers block hits; it is a little witch! However, I do have mock GCSE's in December (eek!) and real GCSE's at the end of the school year (blegh). I watched the BFG today (because my little bro begged me to) and I must say I quite enjoyed it. Anyway, I'm rambling (sorry!).

This chapter in three words: self-realization, morons and brawl. Happy reading! :)

"What label d'you think I'd get?"

I don't look up from my chapter; I've just got to the part where my protagonist is having her whole existential-crisis stroke epiphany phase and I'm way too emotionally invested to fully listen to Diamond. If I lived in the perfect world she'd immediately stop talking and allow me to finish my page, understanding that my rudeness was only due to my amazing fictional novel. Sadly, this is not what happens when you mix a curious Diamond with a bookworm.

Her hand swipes my book away from me in a swift and sudden movement.

"Hey!" I protest. Her dark eyes probe mine, a devilish smirk pulling up the corners of her mouth. She tantalises the book in front of me, dangling it just beyond reach. I glance around the Common room, satisfied that the Troublesome threesome aren't here to join in on the 'fun'. I sigh, flip my palm at her and lean back onto the warm green armchair.

"Don't be a tease." I say to her. Diamond tosses me a faux-haughty look, making me roll my eyes in exasperation. Olivia and Kat come join us, both avidly chattering away. Diamond chucks the book back at me and I mutter a quick 'Wingardium Leviosa' with my recently returned wand to keep my book from falling to an untimely death. Kat skips over and smushes herself onto my chair. I glower at her, internally groaning at the fact that now there was no chance I was gonna get away with reading until class. Her striking blue eyes twinkle, oddly reminding me of Professor Dumbledore, his beaming smile and twinkling eyes flowing in his portrait.

"Good morning." she practically sings. I huff, a soft exhalation of impatience and tiredness.

"Is it really a good morning though? I mean it's not even bloody seven o'clock yet! Breakfast isn't until half an hour and I was torn away from a really freaking good book."

Kat's tries stifling her laugh; it fails. It spills out from behind her hand in an amused little giggle. "Ah… So it's one of those mornings." she replies. I open my mouth to ask what she means but am cut off by Diamond who repeats what she'd said earlier when I was (kinda) ignoring her.

"What label d'you think I'd get?"

"What do you mean?" Olivia pipes up, smoothing down her magically straight skirt. I look down at my own uniform, noticing the ladders in my tights, the wrinkles in my skirt and the way that my green tie is slightly skewered despite my best efforts to keep it straight.

"I mean if we all had to label one another as adjectives, what would we all be?" I stop fussing with my tilted tie and think about this for a second. I remember the way my hand is always the first up in class and somehow try and put that besides the memory, from just over a week ago, of me running down knockturn alley hand in hand with Lysander past midnight. Hmm, what would I be 'labelled'?

Kat's smile dims and because I've come to pick up on some of her little quirks and expressions I instantly ask her what's wrong. I hold my hand out and she takes it, squeezing once in gratefulness. Her palm is cold against mine.

"I think I'd be labelled as the misfit." her voice is slightly shaky. My brow furrows in concern; I don't think I've ever heard or seen anything like this from Kat before- never before has she hinted that she feels out of place or misunderstood in any way. If anything, Kat is pretty much the epitome of confidence and badass witches. She's renown for her feistiness and her sweet tooth and the way she can hold down that blue-eyed stare. Subconsciously I tighten my hand around hers. Both Diamond and Olivia lean in closer, as stunned by her admission as myself.

"How an earth can you think that? You're like the best person I know at speaking to everyone. Charlotte and all that lot like you and you always seem to get what others mean without even trying." Kat sends me a smile, she takes a deep breath and tries to explain;

"It's not that I feel a misfit as in a loner. I mean, I do have you three as well as Nick and Charlie and Maisie. It's just… Sometimes, I-uh…" She trails off. The silence stretches for a beat and then two. After about a minute, which in reality feels like an eternity, Olivia flicks some imaginary lint off of her robes and Diamond fidgets.

"Alexithymia." Three blank gazes cast my way. "An inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner." I add, hastily. Kat snorts and relief soothes my jangled nerves.

"I don't have that. At least, not normally."

"Yeah, no kidding." Diamond chips in, "We all remember when you had an absolute slam-down with Higgs in the hallway." Smiles spread like wildfire.

"Why do you feel like a 'misfit' though?" I pester, ignoring Olivia's scrunched up nose.

"I don't feel the loner aspect, it's just… I suppose my short-temper kind of seems to give me a bit of a reputation." My brain whirs into overdrive.

"What's wrong with that?" I don't see the problem of her being known as the feisty girl, it didn't seem half as bad as the rumours of Scorpius being 'Voldemort's child' and me being the 'black sheep Weasley'. "Everything is relative. Something bad for one person may not seem as bad to another." My mum's voice dredges up from one long-ago memory. I seem to recall tears in her eyes when she'd said this, her eyes red and her breath smelling of whiskey. I let go of the memory, locking it up, returning to the here and now.

"People seem intimidated of my 'explosive temper'. 'Specially since that last show-down with Crabbe, Goyle and Higgs. My bat bogey hex sent Goyle into hysterics." The ghost of a smile crosses her features. This time it's me who can't suppress my laughter. Olivia smiles demurely.

"That was genius!" Diamond tries arguing, dark eyes glinting in mirth. I pick out something that stuck out to me over the whole bat-bogey reference.

"Which people are intimidated?" I query. Diamond rolls her eyes in the background but my gaze is locked on Kat. She seems a little shifty if I'm reading her right. Damn it. If only humans were as easy as books…

"The whole of our year has heard of it-" she tries saying.

"That's not my question and you know it. Us three weren't intimidated-" I wave a hand at my little band of girl friends. "Nor was Nick or Charlotte. Maisie, I doubt would care. She is sweet but with a sister as foul-mouthed as Sophie-" "You know how lowly she thinks of Hufflepuffs. Not only that but you've befriended blood-traitors." rings through my mind. I nod, steeling my voice at the memory. "- yep, having Sophie as a sister would definitely take away the intimidation element of your temper. So when you refer to 'people' you are only meaning someone who you care about. I know you Kat, you don't give a damn what anyone thinks unless it's someone who means something to you. So spill."

Diamond's eyes stop rolling and Olivia seems surprised at my deduction. Kat's tone is respectful, perhaps even a little bit wonder-struck, when she comments: "You're too smart for your own good, you know. One day that busy brain of yours will land you into something you can't smartass your way out of." I grin at her, nudging her shoulder; "I know. I also know that you're trying to change the subject. Spill." Thankfully she does as I ask and confides in us. Diamond and Olivia inch closer so we're not overheard and in conspiratorial whispers Kat tells us of how she has a bit of a crush on Liam Finnigan, who in my mind is known as the cocky Finnigan who hangs around with Se-bastard. She gushes about him talking to her the other day in the library and how he'd told her that she was 'kinda cool' but 'hard to find'.

"Why did he need to find you?" Olivia voices aloud my question, her eyes both earnest and wistful. I remember the look on Nick's face when he'd told us of how he'd completed Jasmine Patil's treasure hunt on Valentine's day and that the 'treasure' had been a kiss from her. His bubbly attitude had completely overlooked the sad glint in Olivia's eye and how she'd had to excuse herself for no apparent reason. When me and Diamond had followed her up, we'd tried levitating over a box of tissues and I'd sent Diamond to nip back down to sneak some chocolate from the kitchens. Taking in Olivia's question, I try assessing how she's dealing. Diamond jumps me to the bullet however and hugs Olivia in an inconspicuous way so Kat doesn't notice. The effort wasn't needed; Kat's focused enough on her story I don't think she'd notice if a cornish pixie flew past!

"He said he'd wanted to find me to inquire about a potion." she waves her hand dismissively, "it doesn't really matter the reason he'd sought me out. What matters is that he actually went to me! I'm not even in his class!" Kat's excitement is drowned out by the voices from my memory...

he and Professor McGonagall continue their conversation.

"-I'm sure of it, ma'am. Someone is definitely pilfering items from the greenhouses."

"And you're sure it is not the students?" Minerva responds, elegantly striding next to the boy she'd once taught and keeping a firm expression on her face.

"There would be no point," Neville Longbottom answers, "The herbs and vegetation that have been taken are only useful when casting dark spells, which no student at Hogwarts has access to. At least not without access to books in the restriction section."

"What potion was he asking you about?" I question. My tone is sharp, drawing confused looks from the others; I know that it's odd for me to ask this when my best friend has just admitted she likes this boy and that he may like her back but I can't help the feeling that something isn't quite adding up. The early morning start seems to be pulling together fragments of my experiences over the school year and my mind keeps chiding me that I'm missing something. Something is off. Something beyond my encounters with the mean girls and dealings with the moronic three (Crabbe, Goyle and Higgs).

"He didn't say." Kat informs, a little defiantly. I squint my eyes in suspicion.

"He came to find you to ask about a potion but then didn't say what potion it was?" I try and fail to sound as suspicious as I look. Diamond shoots me a classic 'what are you talking about look'. I try ignore it. Kat's face flushes. I can tell she's unhappy with me for being so persnickety. She twirls a lock of her hair in agitation.

"He came and asked me where I could find some ingredients- Boomslang skin and fluxweed- because he said he needed it for some potion in class." Boomslang skin? What's that? And Fluxweed… I'm sure I've heard of that before... I make a mind-memo to research it later, I have a sneaking suspicion that it could tie in with the conversation I'd overheard about someone stealing school supplies. But for now I'm currently being bombarded with three irritated stares ranging between mildly concerned (Olivia) to pissed off (Kat).

"Sorry," I try assuming a sheepish look by smiling slightly and lowering my gaze. "I was just curious because if he's getting extra credit in potions class, he could take my place on the scoreboard." Kat rolls her eyes, Diamond scoffs and Olivia giggles. With much relief, I have one of those classic 'lightbulb moments' and come up with the perfect labels for my friends. It is a double whammy for me as it both veers from the conversation of Liam-the-possible-thief and also answers Diamond's earlier question.

"I've got them! The labels you were searching for. You're the skeptic," I tell Diamond with an affectionate smile- "You're mean but soft under all the prickles. You're smart but you don't really seem to want to try. You're a daddy's girl." Zabini tilts her head, neither confirming nor denying my presumption. I point a finger at Olivia- "You're the sweet one. You have a big heart and a bigger smile. You giggle a lot, have just enough perfectionist traits to make you a Slytherin and not a Hufflepuff, and you sometimes slip into Italian when you're really sad or happy." Olivia predictably beams at her label. I turn to Kat, matching cobalt with hazel. "And you…"

"Me?" she prompts, arching a 'brow.

"To quote what Halsey once said about herself: you're a fucking hurricane. You're intense and a mixture of breath-taking and explosive and spontaneous and crazy." She grins at me, I grin right back at her. She understands what I mean.

"What about you, Rose? What are you?" Olivia wonders aloud. Esmeralda strides in, flooding our group and telling us that it's time for breakfast. I let the question hang, rushing among the morning stream of people to travel down to the Great Hall, towards my porridge and pumpkin juice (I was currently taking Nick's advice and easing off the caffeine).

My mind keeps clamouring at my though, I'm not sure what exactly it is that I'm missing but I know two things for definite; 1) That it's important and 2) That it's right in front of me. I dim out against the coiling multides and will myself to focus. Think, Rose. Think! The conversation between Professor McGonagall and Professor Longbottom about how ingredients were disappearing from the greenhouses match up with the scene I'd witnessed in Borgin and Burke's, when that foul man had demanded that he needed more of something and that the teachers were sure to find out if he kept using the ones up at school. But where does Liam tie into all this? Are his potions ingredients linked to the two memories?

A tap on my shoulder jolts me from my internal dialogue. Grey eyes, black hair and small smile. I mumble a 'good morning' to Keiran, not quite present enough to muster up anything more. I follow him over to the table where I sandwich myself between him and Nick. Almost immediately I start fixing Nick a tall goblet of juice and some jammy toast while he does he same.

"It's kinda freaky, you know." Diamond's voice quips, she waves a hand between the two of us.

"What is?" I question sliding him his plate while he does the same with my dish.

"How y'all have fallen into the pattern of making each other's breakfasts." I accept the porridge, and share a wry smile with my chocolate-eyed friend. Turning back to Diamond, I shrug; "I don't usually notice that I'm doing it."

"But why did you start doing it-" she cuts a glance at Nick, warning him with a glance that if he opens up his textbook in front of her, she'll rip out the pages. Slowly, he closes the book, placing it back in his bag with reluctance. He looks at me for a second, then looks away.

"I guess I started it when I started giving her pumpkin juice instead of coffee."

"Coffee is the nectar of the Gods." I protest, nudging Nick in false scorn. He ignores me.

"And then she started making mine after that time I forgot to eat." He smiles at the memory. It was a funny memory, actually, although it wasn't at the time. I remember the way I ranted on about how eating breakfast kick-started metabolism in the body and reduced fatigue by a statistical amount. He'd just hovered there, torn between edging out of the Hall and sitting the flip down and stuffing his mouth full of toast, despite lessons starting. Unfortunately, he didn't get to do either because I'd spelled an apple to be stuffed in his mouth and dragged him by his robes out of the Great Hall, oblivious to the odd stares we'd received.

Marissa appears in my peripheral vision and strolls languidly towards her brother. Her crimson lips smirk as she speaks, too low for me to catch what she's saying. Keiran waits stone-faced until she exits the Hall. Only then does he tug on my arm, leaning towards me and whispering.

"Rose, there's something you need to see." I swallow my food and furrow my brow.

"Can it wait?" I ask, thinking back on my History of Magic essay I needed to complete by this Friday and the puzzling memories that still didn't add up. Keiran's voice is grim, his eyes serious.

"No."

Sensing the urgency, I stand up, waving a goodbye to the table and following him out of the Great Hall and through the winding corridors to the East Wing courtyard. There I notice what I hadn't before, Krum leaning over Albus who's hunched over onto the ground. Blood gushes down from Albus's nose, his glasses lie broken on the ground next to him and his shaggy mop of hair is encrusted with dirt and what-looks-to-be slime. His arms have purple splodges where his shirt sleeves have torn. The sight, brutal and harsh under the cold light of the sun turns my stomach and makes me break out into a dead sprint. My anger flares up, my nightmare of seeing Albus broken and bloody repainted in bright colours before me. I rush towards the two, Krum's head turning up too late, as I shove him forcefully away. He stumbles back a few steps, those damnable bushy eyebrows shooting up in surprise, "Rose!" he exclaims. I stalk, closer to him, too angry to speak. Feeling like one mystery had been solved but too late… Too late.

I curl my fingers into my palm, enclose my thumb over them, making a fist as James had taught me to. Drop your stance Rose. That way, when you swing with your fist the motion is propelled from your hips, giving more weight to the punch. CRACK! My punch lands with a definite blow to Krum's square-ish chin. The jaw dislocates and he staggers backwards, raising his arms in the universal 'Calm down' gesture. His words are incoherent, strung together in a desperate rush and not doing a damn thing to help cool down the flame burning inside me. Some sort of primal instinct has me seeking more pain from the Krum heir. I want him to hurt just as badly as my cousin was hurt. I want him to flinch like Albus had done, every time someone touched his arms. I want him to wince whenever someone calls his name, dreading the outcome of those words. I want him to feel the pain of having tormented nights, distrust blooming, feeling isolated and alone and in pain. I want it… Because I know now that I've been ignorant of the signs. Dom had warned me that Al may've been getting bullied. She told me that it could be a result of him not fitting in. Yet, instead of finding a way to coax him through his school life, I'd been so fucking absorbed by my own problems and my own life that I'd swallowed his bullshit about 'adjusting to school life' and not looked any further, despite my subconscious urging me to. This all had amounted to this explosion of anger and guilt and shame, which I was taking out on Krum, his tormentor.

"Rose, no!" Albus shouts. My fist is already mid-way onwards Krum's stomach. However, he's taller and brawnier than me and he stops it before it lands. His eyes, flinty and wide, plead with mine to stop and listen to my cousin. I jerk my arm back and snap my mouth at Krum, sending him an implicit warning. Albus stumbles up from the ground, waving his arms to keep my eyes on his, rushing out an explanation; "Stop, Rose! It's not Krum who hit me, it's not his fault." I scoff at this: "Oh yeah? Then who was it?" Albus' hand encircles my wrist, he yanks me away from Sebastian, who's cradling his busted up jaw. His green eyes pierce mine- so full of an ocean of sadness and shame. I lower my voice, retracting my burning fury to a cooler, more empathetic tone.

"Who hit you Albus? You know you can tell me anything. We're family." It's just the three of us in the courtyard; Keiran has mysteriously disappeared. Perhaps he has an aversion to violence.

His melancholy gaze is hidden behind long, dark eyelashes. He licks his cracked lips, pinches his bloody nose, staunching the flow.

"I'm sorry Rose. I should've told you earlier, I was just… Scared. Not that you'd be bullied, hell no one would dare bully you, cousin. But that you'd tell James or someone who'd tell my parents. I thought I could handle it myself. Y'know? Each time, before every encounter, I'd say 'I'll tell them to stop. I'll prove to myself that I'm as strong and brave as Dad was, when he was at school.' But…" his strained voice trails off. Krum inches forwards and when I look up to him, I see what I hadn't earlier: concern for Albus.

"But?" I'm almost too scared to pick up the conversations, apprehensive of where it was leading.

"But I'm a coward," he sighs, "The reason that I was so horrible to you and your House is because I envied the way you could deal with the rumours and the meanness and the jinxes. I should have never been put into Gryffindor," he hangs his head, seeing assurance from the inanimate leather on his shoes. "I can never become half of the person my father was. And still is." I draw my wand, with a twirl I clean up the blood and fix his glasses. I crouch down, feeling the thin-wire for a moment of contemplation, knowing full well how hard it was to live in the shadow of your parents and their achievements. Always being compared to what they achieved and how they strived and the legacy too full and amazing to even contend with.

I look at Krum, still holding the repaired glasses, taking in his crooked jaw and darkened eyes.

"If you weren't the perpetrator," I drawl, elongating the words in thought, "-then why are you here?" Without his lackeys as well, I add in my mind. Sebastian shuffles his feet but keeps his lips tightly sealed. For a boy who never seems to know when to shut up, he doesn't seem to be able to make a sound right now. I wonder if it's because of my punch. I remember my Dad telling me the tale of when mum had hit Draco Malfoy and his remark on how 'it scared the ferret shitless'. Is he scared of me now? Is that why he refuses to talk? Albus, with his timid voice, intervenes: "He witnessed the fight and he ran out to help me. He scared them off by threatening to tell McGonagall- they freaked, Krum was helping me when you arrived." Oh. I walk towards Krum, he steps back as I step forwards so hold my hands up in the gesture he'd done earlier. He hesitates; "I won't hurt you." I promise. He stills, eyes squinted in suspicion but trusting me enough to not move away.

As though he is a Hippogriff, I approach slowly and respectfully, trying to keep him from running or fighting. When I'm only a couple of feet away, I raise my wand and murmur a healing charm. The crack as the jaw relocates is like the snap of a whip. He winces while I flinch at the sound. Following my impulse I trace my fingers across his jaw, mouthing 'sorry' and then 'thank you'. His jaw is strong and firm beneath my touch and I shiver. He notices and his eyes seem to darken even more, their intensity too much for me to handle, so I step back and mentally draw up my shiver to the slight breeze in the air. Mentally chiding myself for being so close to the Krum boy I blush a dark red and step hurriedly away. Albus' is wearing his 'I saw that' look and I send him a scowl. When I turn back to glance at Krum, he's spun on his heel and is striding out of the courtyard. My breath is shaky when I exhale.

The bell rings for class and the moment is broken, the illusion shattered; it's time to go back to reality. And the reality is that my cousin was being bullied and now has nasty bruises, ripped clothes and a broken nose. He quickly hides his battered body under his crumpled robe and makes for the door, leading back into a school hallway.

"Where do you think you're going?" I say, jogging to catch up with him, hooking my arm around his. "To class," he replies, sending me a 'duh' look. I frown at him, forcibly making him stop.

"No, you're not. You are going straight to Madam Pomfrey right now or else I'll be writing a letter myself to Auntie Ginny and Uncle Harry, is that understood?" His face morphs into the picture of that famous painting: Scream.

"No! Rosie, please. You can't do that-"

"-yes I can."

"-they'll get the teachers involved and it'll be a nightmare-

"-Albus-"

"-it'll be so humiliating-"

"-Al-"

"-the whole school will find out and I'll be known as-"

"ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER!" I shout. Students faces whip towards me, whispers arise and eyes cut side-glances. I don't give a damn. I frog-march Albus straight to the infirmary, rambling on about the importance of medical care and how if he's not seen to this exact minute I will make on my promise and tell his parents. Once we arrive, I throw open the doors, and inform him in hushed tones that no- I will not tell his parents although by Merlin's name I will hunt down the bastards who did this to him and make them stop or else. Not once does Albus tell me their names but I already know. I remember too vividly that time in the hallway when he pulled Mr Invisible onto me and I had a hexing match with the offenders in question. Madam Pomfrey scurries over, her heart-face frowning and worried.

"Oh, my poor dear, what happened?"

"Albus here bumped into a wooden beam and bust his nose, then took a rather nasty tumble down the stairs." I lie smoothly and effectively. The matron, who I'd met before when I'd suffered that migraine months ago, looks rather disbelievingly at the older bruises.

"And where was this beam from? Here at Hogwarts I have not heard of a student being harmed from a wayward plank before." She doesn't believe me, I can hear it in her tone. I ramp up the innocent factor, feeling only a tad guilty when I shift the blame.

"Peeves was carrying the wood." I add. The matron loses her suspicion, Peeves is renown for rather random and mischievous acts- how should this one be any different? I leave Albus into Madam Pomfrey's capable hands and stalk off to deal with his bullies. I'm late but I do not hurry. I know with detached acceptance that by the time the class end I'll be in much more trouble than tardiness.

The hallways are practically empty, there are only the odd few upper year students milling about during their free period. The portraits watch with curious eyes as I meander by, clutching my satchel strap, jaw clenched and fists ready. I'd misjudged Krum, that was for sure. I'd made him out as some big bad villain when in reality he was just a rich boy living under a similar shadow to me and Albus, protecting his human heart with prickly arrogance. I recall his rose for me on Valentines, the mocking poem might've been just for show, him conforming to the label he'd been placed under. I'm a ball of energy; raw emotions. I'm furious and guilty and upset and sympathetic and confused and scared. My hands are shaky from where they clutch my bag and despite my rage, I feel ice cold. Is this what it means to be a Slytherin? I question myself, Learning to observe people and emotions and the harsh reality in the weak light of the sun?

Without realising it, I've made my way to the bottom of the stairway, I'm at the entrance of the Potions dungeons. I take a deep breath, taking a moment to compose myself and reign in the nervous fluttering at the bottom of my tummy. Shaky fingers tracing the intricacies of the wood grain, the way some parts are chipped off due to old age and the swirls and dots which mark having seen generations of children before. I watch the door with trepidation, it watches me with blank eyes. It's eyeless yet all-seeing. You're hesitating. My mind reminds me. I set back my shoulders, shoulder open the door and walk in…

My peers, emerald and crimson, are working alongside one another, deep into their practical. The professor is absent from his desk but I'm much too preoccupied to give it much consideration; if anything, it helps with what I'm about to do. I spot one of the three, then the other two appear- my luck is adding up when they sidle up to him and start chattering away about how they snuck out of lesson under the pretense of library work. Bullshit, as if any of them is smart enough to read! Keiran spots me first, he always does seem to be the one who notices things first, and his grey eyes see right through me. I turn from him and storm my way up to Crabbe, Goyle and Higgs. Without any pretense, I whip out my wand and mutter under my breath a complex spell which causes tiny papercuts form wherever the wand is pointing. Crabbe's bulbous eyes bulge and his words cut off into a howl of pain. I trace my wand surreptitiously across both his arms, knowing that my time is limited now that one has been hurt.

"Expelliarmus." I speak in a moderate-volume tone. Higgs gets launched backwards his wand flying into my grasp. Jasmine and a few Gryffindorks stop what they're doing noticing the duel at this side of the classroom. Goyle shouts a hex, I shield it and dodge to make sure I don't get harmed. I roll out of the dive, knocking over someone's cauldron and spilling some of the 'see clearly' brew inside. The lilac liquid trickles idly over the floor, oblivious to my red-hazed anger. Someone screams and the classroom erupt into chaotic yelling and shoving as people rush from the room.

"Petrificus totalus." I curse. Goyle's whole body freezes up and drops like a dead weight. Crabbe hits me with a Rictumsempra, the tickling charm and I countercurse it so the charm is neutralised.

"STUPIFY!" I scream, hitting Higgs and knocking him unconscious. Two down, one to go. Crabbe looks despairingly down at his fallen friends and tries to run away like the coward he is. I remember the sadness and shame of Albus when he confessed that he'd felt like a coward. Olivia and Diamond are crying for me to stop, yelling and hollering about expulsion and how they're not worth it. I'm deaf to their cries. Keiran and Krum are trapped between the student body, though their struggling their way over to me. I stalk towards Crabbe like a predator seeking prey. My eyes are ablaze my voice is a hiss. I don't notice the professor's return.

"You motherfucking coward!" I spit behind clenched teeth. I grab his robes, punch him in the stomach, stealing his breath. "You fucking thought you could screw with my cousin and get away with it!" I chuck him onto the ground, him scuffling as far as his plump legs can get him. I tower over him, a dark force that cannot be sheathed. I kick him as if I'm striking a ball, fracturing his ribs, making him howl. I smirk at the sound, feeling justice for my cousin. I lunge, landing onto those fractured ribs and raining down blows onto him as he covers his face.

"I- I didn't… Mean… To." he sputters through desperate pants. The sight of his sweaty, spotty face disgusts me. I wrap my small hands around his thick neck. Between each word, I thump his head against the marble floor.

"Lie… To… Me… Again... I… DARE… You." His eyes flutter, his hands scrabble at his throat, trying to stop me. Arms wrap around my waist, firmly wrenching me off of him against a very solid chest. I wiggle and squirm and claw and kick, wreaking havoc to the already chaotic scene.

"Let me go!" I growl.

"Not a chance." says the boy with the French accent. His voice is low but commanding. "Rose, you're cousin wouldn't want this." he looks at the fallen three. I stop fighting him and my eyes fill with tears. I turn in his circle of warmth so that I can meet his silvery eyes with my glistening hazel ones. "They hurt him." I inform him, "My family, my responsibility, yet I let him get hurt." His hand tuck a lock of my red hair behind one ear. "You did not let him, Rose. It is not your fault." I do not believe him, he knows this as sure as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow. He strokes my hair once, then releases me. Holding me close, just in case.

Professor Van Der Birg assesses the scene laid out before him. All the other students had fled except Diamond and Olivia who were sobbing next to a wild-eyed Nick, close to Keiran who'd crouched over Higgs and Krum who was hesitating, unsure what he could do in a situation like this. The lilac potion was spattered across the polished floors and reeked of chamomile and menthol. Stools had been upturned, potion bottles smashed and dribbling chemicals around the room. His intelligent eyes are sharp and beady over his spectacles. He scratches his goatee in a familiar way. His expression is inscrutable.

"Miss Weasley. You have surprised me. I did not think a Weasley could ever have acted as… Savagely, as you have just shown. Your uncanny resemblance to someone who would be quite intrigued to know of this little episode is consequential to me not informing the Headmistress of this particular mishap. You, with Scorpius here, will serve detention until the end of the year because despite my goodwill, your actions have to be punished. Noone here will speak of this to anyone else, is that understood?" My jaw drops. I'd been sure I was to suffer isolation or, Merlin save me, expulsion! And yet here Sir was telling us that I'd only have to serve detention all because of… A resemblance to someone he knew? It was ludicrous! Absolutely, undoubtedly, utterly astonishing! However, whatever the reasons for me easy punishment were, I wouldn't dare to question it.

"Is that understood?" he repeats to our blank, gaping faces. We nod, mumble affirmatives.

"But sir?" Diamond pipes up, clearing her throat nervously under his gaze, "What about the other pupils? They saw most of what happened as well." His eyes turn darkly bright.

"Do not worry yourself, I will deal with them." He sniffs haughtily then strolls out of the classroom, telling us to make a start on clearing up and 'get those dead weights to the infirmary'. The others make to come talk to me. In quick whispers I meet Scorpius's gaze and joke: "Looks like you seem to be becoming my knight in shining armour. Will you always be there to save me?" A tear slips from my eye. I'm exhausted and dry humour is weirdly not helping the situation. He catches my tear of his finger. His voice is low and surprisingly solemn.

"Let's hope so."