I'm still not happy with the previous chapter. I'm thinking of cutting the entire last conversation. If you have any advice let me know!

Scorpius raced through the halls and up the stairs to the head's office in order to present himself to Professor McGonagall. Frantically, he banged on the door until the portal swung open and the headmistress emerged, looking quite irritated at the ruckus he was making.

"Mr. Malfoy! What on earth…"

"It's Rose Weasley! She's gotten terribly sick all of a sudden!"

"Where?" she asked him in alarm, her whole body tensing up as if preparing to panic.

"In Herbology," he exclaimed. McGonagall's face relaxed somewhat, then became more stern.

"I'm certain Professor Longbottom can handle whatever…"

"You don't understand!" he cried out and McGonagall scowled at his insolence, "She's really bad! She's passed out!"

"Has Professor Longbottom asked you to come and fetch me?" she asked him. Scorpius looked down sheepishly.

"No ma'am. Not exactly," he admitted, "He sent me here on a referral." She raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" she demanded.

"Well…I'm in trouble for talking back…and using bad language," he confessed reluctantly, "But Professor Longbottom…"

"Mr. Malfoy," she cautioned.

"I'm sorry, Headmistress," he said honestly, "But could you please go and see to Rose. She really is ill and I'm sure you can help her! I'll stay put and you can punish me when you come back!" She seemed to consider the request.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," she conceded, "I'll go look in on Miss Weasley and when I return, you and I can have a discussion with Professor Longbottom about your impropriety in Herbology class."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed in relief. He was certain that if anyone in the school was powerful enough to cure Rose, it was their headmistress. And if not, having McGonagall present was likely to speed up the process of getting Rose to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies.

"You may go up and wait for me in my office," she told him and he obeyed, climbing the spiral stairs into the head's office.

Though he was the only person present, the room seemed very busy. A quill was scribbling furiously in a ledger on McGonagall's desk. Several portraits of former heads were wandering in and out of their frames. A lively flock of tiny, golden birds circled over the desk and he noticed that most of them were carrying a golden ribbon in their tiny beaks. Scorpius collapsed into an armchair in frustration.

"Running a insolent mouth, Mr. Malfoy?" came a snide voice from behind him. Scorpius turned round in alarm, and scanned the empty office behind him. Finally, his eyes come to rest on the ill-tempered visage of Severus Snape, slouching in the corner of his frame, reading from the book he generally carried.

"He had it coming," Scorpius stated flatly and Snape snorted at the unmitigated impudence of modern youth.

"He did!" Scorpius insisted, "He practically accused me of trying to kill my classmate!"

"Well, that's to be expected," interjected the portrait of a thin, prim-looking witch in a ridiculously ornate hat.

"No it isn't!" Scorpius argued back at her, childishly forgetting that she was a portrait and not a real person, "No one expects to be accused of attempted murder!" Snape sighed and set the book on his lap, examining his old schoolmate's grandson with an unaffected gaze.

"You'll save yourself a significant amount of aggravation if you accept the fact that your family name bares a nasty reputation," he advised.

"I accept the reputation," Scorpius snapped back, "I accept that people glare at me when I go out in public. I accept that complete strangers assume the worst of me. But that old git's been my teacher for a year and a half! He's had plenty of time to realize that I'm not some sort of criminal!" Snape fell silent again, his dark, empty eyes gazing down at the pages of his book. Scorpius couldn't tell if he was contemplating how to respond or was simply tired of speaking with him and had gone back to his reading. Finally, he did speak again.

"Answer honestly, Mr. Malfoy. Have you done anything to make Professor Longbottom dislike you?" Scorpius was surprised by the question.

"Absolutely not!" he insisted adamantly, but then he remembered the scene he'd just left. "Er…that is, until just now…I rather blew up at him and I think I called him an incompetent jackass."

"You ought to take responsibility for that and avoid getting into anymore arguments with him. You don't have to like each other, you just have to tolerate each other with reasonable respect." Scoprius snorted in disgust.

"Typical teacher answer," he criticized, "What you mean is I have to respect him because he's the adult, but he can say or do whatever he pleases and I just have to smile and take it." Snape shrugged.

"A smile isn't requisite. Just avoid direct insults and keep the profanity down." Scorpius crossed his arms sulkingly and groaned.

"It's ridiculously unfair. I didn't do anything to deserve this!"

"No," Snape agreed, "And I assure you, it'd be in your best interest to keep it that way. These little eruptions are only going to get you into serious trouble."

"You certainly are good at telling people the exact thing the do NOT want to hear!" Scorpius growled at him, "I suppose when you were a teacher, you chose students to hate for no reason as well?"

"I did not hate my students," he responded sharply and Scorpius was surprised to detect an uncharacteristic flicker of emotion in his voice, "But yes, I certainly had those I never got along with." Scorpius' face suddenly lit up with recollection.

"My dad said you hated Harry Potter," Scorpius baited him slyly, "He said you used to torture him every chance you got." If it was possible, Snape's dark eyes seemed to lose even more light at the mention of his former student.

"I did not hate him," Snape insisted again, "I just…couldn't stand him."

"Why not?" Scopius inquired, "What was it you found so wrong about him?"

"There wasn't anything wrong about him…" Snape paused in his explanation as if it gave him pain to continue, "Rather, the reason I couldn't tolerate his presence was mostly because of what was wrong with me. I imagine it's the same sort of situation with Longbottom. You, yourself, aren't the cause of his discomfort…"

"Now, that's more like it!" Scorpius interjected, happy to hear his own opinion validated at last.

"…His problem is with the person or thing of which you remind him."

"What do you mean? Who do I remind him of?"

"The boy who bullied and humiliated him throughout his school years…The Deatheaters who supported the Dark Lord's rise to power and killed hundreds of innocents…The woman who took from him his mother and father…any number of unpleasant thoughts and memories."

"I remind him of all that?" Scorpius repeated disbelievingly and for a brief moment, he felt a passing tinge of shame and pity, followed by slight wave of bitterness.

"But I didn't do those things? Why should I be mistreated because of what someone else did?"

"No one said you 'should be', I merely suggest that is why you are," Snape explained. Scorpius considered this and then said, "Well, that is simply not acceptable." Snape shook his head dispassionately.

"It is what it is. Whether you accept it or not won't change it. Just as you didn't cause Longbottom's aversion to you, there isn't very much that you can do to dispel it and you're only likely to get yourself into real trouble if you try to battle with him. As you said before, Mr. Malfoy, he is the adult… and for now, you are the student."

Scorpius grunted again and fell back in his chair. What Snape's portrait had said made sense, but it certainly didn't make him feel any less aggrieved. What he really wanted was for a grown-up to take his side and then go and shake Professor Longbottom until his teeth rattled. However, he was beginning to see the chance of that getting fainter and fainter.

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the headmistress.

"Is Rose alright, Headmistress?" Scorpius asked her anxiously. Her expression was grim and Scorpius dreaded her answer.

"We're taking her to the hospital right now. You were right to be concerned, Mr. Malfoy. There's no doubt she's been cursed."

"Is she going to die?" Scorpius asked in a horrified voice.

"I don't believe so," she responded softly as she gathered her overcoat and scarf from the cupboard behind her desk. Then she turned and approached Scorpius with much seriousness.

"Professor Longbottom seems to think this curse might be the result of some sort of prank," she told him. Scorpius hated the fact that anyone was accusing him but he was grateful that McGonagall seemed to have very little confidence in the truth of the allegation. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his wand.

"Here," he offered, "See for yourself!" McGonagall muttered the incantation and gave it a light shake. The faint figure of a crane emerged from the tip of his wand and fluttered around the room. It was wispy looking, as though it was made of smoke.

"That's from Transfiguration Class," Scorpius explained, "We were meant to turn a paper crane into a real one."

"Well, this certainly was a good one!" she replied admirably as the smoke bird flew into the wall and dissipated. Scorpius smiled shyly.

"Actually, the hardest part for me was folding that little bit of paper so many times to make it into the crane!" McGonagall gave a faint smile and handed him back his wand.

"At any rate, I'm confident in your innocence regarding Miss Weasley." Scorpius beamed in relief.

"Thank you, Headmistress!" However, her face was still stern and Scorpius knew the conversation wasn't quite over.

"However, your outburst in class today was completely intolerable!" she chastised him, "Students at Hogwarts are expected to conduct themselves with a certain level of decorum…"

"But…" Scorpius interrupted defensively.

"Even when they are disputing an injustice, Mr. Malfoy!" Scorpius sighed in defeat.

"Yes, Headmistress."

"What would your mother say, young man, if she heard you addressing your teacher with that sort of language?" Scorpius' eyes widened.

"Well, she'd probably use the scourgify spell on my mouth," he confessed, "Once, I used a bad word at my grandfather and I was spitting up soap bubbles all night!" He glanced at his headmistress anxiously. He hoped she wasn't going to serve him soap for dinner. He was cautiously relieved when he saw that she looked more bemused by his story than inspired.

"Your teacher will be arriving here in just a moment," she told him, "You are to apologize to him for your deplorable behavior and then you are to go to dinner."

"Yes, Headmistress," he agreed. He wanted to ask her if he'd lost house points or gotten a detention, but he didn't want to give her any ideas.

McGonagall disappeared quickly into the portal and Scorpius was left alone in the office to worry about his friend. Several minutes later, he heard the portal opening again and he got up from the chair to face his teacher. Professor Longbottom's head emerged from behind the door and he looked about the room until he caught sight of Scorpius. He examined him sternly and gestured for him to come closer. Scorpius took a deep breath and strode over to the corner where his teacher was standing. Snape's portrait emerged curiously from his book in order to witness the transaction. After several agonizing moments of silence and no eye-contact, Scorpius began, stiflly "Professor Longbottom, I apologize for my…deplorable behavior." He glanced up at his teacher, who's reaction was incredulous.

"Do you, Mr. Malfoy? Why?"

"The headmistress said I have to," Scorpius thought disdainfully, but he had sense enough not to say it.

"Because I broke the rules?" he offered. Professor Longbottom didn't seem to be satisfied with his response, but he didn't look as though he knew what exactly to say. The silence was becoming suffocating. Scorpius glanced over at Snape's portrait, which was regarding them with more interest than Scorpius had ever seen the painting pay to anything. His dispassionate expression betrayed no feeling and Scorpius found himself wondering which of them Snape was more sympathetic with. Then he had to wonder if the portrait even had any sympathy to offer at all.

Professor Longbottom noticed his student's distraction and followed his gaze to the portrait of his old potions master. He clearly found the sight distasteful. He'd always considered Snape to be a cruel and, at times, terrifying individual when he was alive. His potions classroom had been a torture chamber during his first six years of school and Snape's short career as headmaster had been the worst year of Neville Longbottom's life. Scorpius looked back at his teacher.

"May I go to dinner now?" he asked, forgetting to address him properly. Professor Longbottom nodded, still keeping one eye on the cold, soulless-looking man in the portrait. Scorpius skirted around his teacher quickly and bolted toward the door.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Longbottom called and Scorpius cringed and turned around slowly.

"I also apologize for accusing you unjustly."

Scorpius' jaw dropped. He was entirely unaccustomed to adults who apologized to children. He didn't know at all what to say.

"I…I…" he stuttered.

"Do you accept?" Professor Longbottom asked and Scopius nodded quickly.

"Grown-ups never apologize to kids!" he exclaimed in an amazed and somewhat skeptical tone.

"A man should always apologize when he's done harm," Professor Longbottom told him, "Regardless of whether the one he's harmed is his master or his servant…or even a child. The ability to show remorse for one's actions isn't a weakness, it's a strength."

"I reckon I've never heard it done before," Scorpius explained, "I mean, kids are always being made to apologize if they make a wrong move, but not the other way around."

"Your parents have never apologized to you before?"

Scorpius thought about it.

"Not that I recall," he concluded, "But they are my parents. I mean, I'm their son and they take considerable pains trying to avoid harming me in the first place."

"Well," responded Professor Longbottom, "In the furture, I shall try to do the same." Again, Scorpius didn't know what to say.

"Thank you, sir," he finally responded, though that didn't seem quite right either.

"You may go to dinner, now," he told him and Scorpius nodded and departed for the great hall, his face still slightly puzzled.

Now alone, Neville looked again at the portrait of Severus Snape, which had buried itself back into the pages of the book.

"Well?" Neville demanded from him. Snape continued to stare at the pages over his hooked nose and didn't bother to respond.

"Don't you have anything to say?" he asked again angrily.

"Are you addressing me?" Snape asked languidly, without even looking up.

"Yes, I am."

"I have nothing to say." Neville glared at him and shook his head in disgust.

"You great tyrant!" he accused, and he stormed out of the office leaving the room in relative peace. The quill had finished its accounting in the ledger. The golden birds orbited slowly around the desk, almost as if flying while asleep. Most the other portraits had left their frames or were dozing off quietly in the absence of the headmistress. Snape's portrait slowly turned the pages of his book. No one was there to notice the sorrow brimming in his eyes.