Love and Glory

by GinnyWeasleyRocks

Two households, both alike in dignity... in fair Hogwarts, where we lay our scene. Weasley and Malfoy are destined to come together. But for Rose and Scorpius, it isn't exactly love at first sight - or second, or third, or - well, you get the picture. It's going to take a lot longer for these crazy kids to get together. But trust me, it's worth the wait. And there's a sequel, too!

25. All or Nothing

A/N: Hi, all! It's been a while, I know. This chapter gave me a lot of trouble and it's still far from where I'd like it to be. Plus it's been a strange few months. Lots going on. Anyway, if anyone was worried I'd abandoned the story, don't be! I would let you know if I decided not to continue with the fanfiction, I won't just leave it hanging as I know how frustrating that can be for readers, having been on the receiving end of that myself.

Hope you enjoy, anyway. It's a longer chapter than usual.

Disclaimer: Copyright to J.K. Rowling

---

Chapter 25: All or Nothing

"What do they expect me to do?" Percy Weasley twitched back the lace curtain that covered the window of his drawing room, then dropped it again, averting his eyes from the scene outside.

"Seems simple enough to me, Perce." His brother, Ron, had Flooed in a couple of minutes ago, scattering ash over Audrey's immaculate carpet and breaking a vase that stood on the mantelpiece in the process. Every time he moved – which was often, for Ron seemed to be as restless as Percy today – a dusting of ash drifted from his robes onto the carpet.

"Nothing about this is simple." Percy glowered at his brother, who was watching him with a strange expression on his face that made him turn towards the window again. He winced as a fresh bout of yelling broke out, the sound echoing through the glass until it seemed to vibrate against his skin. "I'm glad we got Audrey and the girls out of here. I've called in the hit-wizards, but they won't come unless things turn violent."

"Which they will," Ron said, with another shake of ash onto the carpet, "if you don't go out and talk to everyone."

Percy looked at him, aghast. "Are you mad? Me, go out there, when they're practically baying for my blood?"

Ron snorted. "What do you think's going to happen? They can't touch you, Percy. Most of them just want to get some answers."

"I've given plenty of those." Percy wagged a finger at his brother. "And I should remind you, Ron, that I'm not the only one who went for this. Most of the Wizengamot voted in favour of - "

"Harry and Hermione didn't." Ron's voice was quiet.

"Yes, but they - "

"Kingsley didn't."

Percy sighed, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses with one hand. "Yes, Ron, I know, but the fact of the matter is that there was a majority, and the majority ruled. Do you think I want this to happen any more than you do? Do you think I'd let this happen if I had any say in the matter?"

"You do have a say," Ron snapped, with an even more violent shake of his robes. "You're the bloody Minister for Magic, Percy."

"I won't be the Minister for much longer if I don't do something to protect my country against these Truthseeking lunatics." Percy looked at his brother hard. "My career's at stake here, Ron. Everything I've worked for, all these years…"

"Your career. Of course." Ron Weasley gave his robes one last shake, and shook his head Percy. "Because in the end, that's what you'll always choose, isn't it?"

---

(Three Days Earlier)

"So what exactly am I supposed to be looking at?" Albus Potter asked, peering around the corner of the building that afforded them a side view of the Hog's Head in all of its grimy glory. The windows were as grubby as always, the door hanging slightly off the hinges, and the rusty sign was swinging feebly in the wind.

"Patience, Al." James replied, smirking as he leaned back against the wall of the outhouse. He might as well have been lounging in the common room, for all the ease and comfort he emanated. "They should be along any minute now."

"I can tell you're trying to be mysterious, but it's just coming off as annoying."

"Oh, hush."

Albus withdrew his head from the corner of the outhouse as he heard a faint whistling in the far, far distance, beyond the village. "If we end up missing the train because of you - "

"I didn't force you to come along." James rolled his shoulders, still entirely at his leisure.

"Well, can you blame me for wanting to? Being stuck in the hospital wing for weeks on end, with only the prospect of Madam Pomfrey changing your bandages to look forward to… well, it does things to your head."

A grin had been forming on James's lips as Albus spoke, and he seemed on the point of making some returning quip, when he checked himself, and reddened. There was an uncomfortable silence, during which neither brother could quite meet one another's eye, and then James said, in a low voice, "I've broken up with Summer."

"Have you." It was not a question; Albus knew already, or at least, he had suspected. Since he had gotten out of the hospital wing, a week or so ago, he had barely seen Summer except at meals, and never when James was in the vicinity. For his part, he had not spoken a word to her since the day he was attacked. His memory of their last conversation was blurry around the edges, but he remembered the hurt, betrayed look in her eyes well enough.

"Not just because of…" James fidgeted, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps across the scraggly grass. "… what you told me. But… for other reasons, too."

Albus looked away. "It's none of my business."

"Right." James blew out his breath, and there was another pause, until the creaking of a door reached their ears, and his brother's face became animated once more. "Look," he hissed, beckoning Albus around the corner of the outhouse once more. "Look!"

A little knot of bewildered looking house-elves had emerged from the side door of the Hog's Head. It slammed behind them before James and Albus could get a glimpse of who had ushered them out, and the house-elves were shunted out of the inn unceremoniously.

"They're wearing the school crest," Albus muttered, shrinking back as the house-elf in front stared around with great, bulging eyes. "What are they doing out here?"

"Keep watching," was the only reply James gave.

A few seconds later, the house-elves vanished from the deserted street with a loud crack, and Albus blinked. "Where have they gone?"

"Back to the castle, I expect," James said offhandedly. "Right, nothing more to see here. Let's go."

"Hang on!" Albus protested, hurrying after his brother as he strode back towards the main street of Hogsmeade. "What was all that about? James."

James gave a cordial nod to the witch who owned the post-office as they passed her establishment, which was just opening for the day, then shrugged at his brother. The train-whistle sounded again, much closer by, and the two wizards sped up their pace. "You tell me, Al."

"Now is not the time to be coy," Albus said firmly. "You've had your fun, James. Why did you bring me along if you were just going to - "

"I wanted a second opinion." James finally turned to look at his brother properly, and his brown eyes had a savage gleam in them. "I've had a thought, and I want to know if it's completely mad or not."

"I can't really help unless I know what that thought is," Albus said, rolling his eyes. "Much as I'd like to…"

"Where do you think those house-elves came from?" James questioned him.

"Er, the castle?"

"Yeah, but how did they get to Hogsmeade?"

"They walked? I dunno…"

"Don't you remember Dad's stories?" James seemed to be about bursting with impatience by now. "About the D.A, during the Battle of Hogwarts?"

Albus's expression cleared. "There was a passageway to the Hog's Head from the castle… but that was destroyed, wasn't it?"

"Everyone thought so." James smiled to himself. "But over the past month, I've been watching house-elves enter the Room of Requirement and resurface here. Every few days, as though someone's been testing out the passage."

"And how is this a good thing?" Albus looked at his brother, perplexed. The station was in sight now, and they could see students lining up with their luggage on the platform. A column of steam rose into the air as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station with another whistle. The sound was full of promise.

James brought a hand down on Albus's shoulder. "Because whoever's using that Room – and that passage – doesn't want to be found. And since those Slytherin bastards who attacked you went on the run, I've an idea it might be them hiding out in the Hog's Head."

"That is mad," Albus said quickly. "James, if you start running after these people, making trouble for yourself, I swear I'll - "

"I don't plan on going after them alone, Al." James hefted his bag off the platform where he had left it and grabbed Albus's too before he could object. "Besides, you're missing the best part."

"And what's that?"

James Potter's smile widened as he stepped onto the train. "If they can use the Room of Requirement, that means that we can, too."

---

"Thanks for seeing me off." Rose smiled up at Tony Mason as they stood together on the platform of Hogsmeade station. She was dressed in her school robes and cloak, her red hair fluttering behind her on the wind.

"My pleasure." Tony sighed, shading his eyes with his hand as he cast a glance around the station. The crowd of students was thinning around them, and the whistle had already blown once. James and Albus had passed them a minute ago, the former bestowing a suggestive smirk upon Rose as he boarded the train. "It's going to be pretty boring around here for the next fortnight."

"Wish you were going home for Easter too," Rose said, and Tony shrugged.

"Oh, well. Maybe I'll get some work done here." Catching her eye, he added, "Don't laugh."

"Rose!"

They both turned to see Penny Alderton hurrying along the platform towards them. Her cheeks were flushed and she was hauling her trunk along with some difficulty. "Do you – er - " She broke off as she saw who Rose was with, and cast her eyes down. "Do you know where the others are?"

"I think they're two carriages down," Rose said, pointing, and Penny sighed, adjusting her grip on her cat carrier as its occupant gave a yowl from within.

"Do you need any help with your things?" Tony asked her, and Penny started on being addressed by him, glancing up and then looking away again, quickly.

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

"You're sure?" Tony exchanged a glance with Rose. "Because it's no trouble - "

"I'm fine," Penny repeated, a slight edge to her voice, and hurried past them without another glance.

"That was a little rude," Rose mused, looking after her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she has a little crush on you, Tony."

She expected him to laugh at that, but he didn't. Instead, a deep frown creased his brow, and his eyes were suddenly distant, almost as though he had forgotten that Rose was there. "I don't think it's that…" he murmured.

"Well, what is it, then?" Rose watched him for a moment, then reached for his arm. "Tony? What's wrong?"

He shook himself, just as the whistle blew again, and met her gaze. "Nothing, Rose. Nothing at all. Go on; I'm holding you up."

She stayed where she was, looking at him uncertainly. "You're sure everything's OK?"

"Sure." Tony smiled at her, though it did not quite reach his eyes, and leaning forward, gave her a quick kiss. Then, they heaved her bags into the nearest carriage. Rose stepped in herself, still frowning, and had closed the door behind her when she heard her name.

"What?" She turned back to him, leaning out of the window.

From where he stood on the platform, Tony reached up and grasped her hand in his. "I should have said this before. But what you did for your cousin, after he was attacked…"

Suddenly uncomfortable, Rose avoided his gaze. She had heard enough praise from people over the past month for that to make her thoroughly feel that she did not deserve any of it. But he continued,

"That was special, Rose. And - " Tony paused, then raised his voice over the sound of the conductor shouting. His brown eyes locked on hers. "After what happened to me, it makes me feel braver. To know that you're around."

Rose blinked at him as he let go of her hand. "Th-thank you."

Regarding her warmly, Tony simply lifted a hand in goodbye as the train began to move. Frowning, Rose kept her eyes on his figure, until it and Hogsmeade were obscured by the trees of the forest.

---

Since his attack, Albus had not been inclined to walk any substantial distance alone. His friends had been solicitous in accompanying him to meals and classes without making it seem too obvious, but for such an independent person as Albus, who was additionally fond of his own company, this necessity for constant companionship was more than a little frustrating. Nonetheless, the fear of being on his own for any extended period of time prevailed, and he had been obliged to go along with it.

Now, finding himself unaccompanied for the first time in weeks as he stood in the aisle of the Hogwarts Express, he felt a trace of that familiar unease, prickling the hairs at the back of his neck. The sound of someone's quick step behind him momentarily increased the sensation, until the pursuer overtook him, and he saw who it was.

"Summer," he said, as placidly as he could manage, "How have you been?"

Summer did not reply right away, simply staring at him. It gave him some measure of unfair satisfaction to see that she was not looking her best. Her blonde hair sat limp and unbrushed on her shoulders; the pallor of her complexion indicated that she spent much of her time indoors these days, and the skin around her watery blue eyes seemed to be in an eternal state of puffiness. But when she spoke, in a voice laced with a sarcastic venom that he had never heard her use before, it was not quite so satisfying.

"I've been great, Albus. Just great. Getting dumped by James was the highlight of my month, as you might guess."

"And getting attacked was the highlight of mine," Albus retorted glibly. "So, between the two of us, we've had quite a time of it."

"You've been avoiding me," she stated blandly, ignoring his flippancy. "Since it happened."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged, stepping back to allow a nervous first-year to pass them. "I've had things to do. Returning from the brink of death and all that."

"You sound like your brother." Summer looked pained. "When did that happen?"

"Maybe we're more alike than you realised."

She shook her head. "No, you're not."

"If you say so." Albus started forward, making his way up the aisle again.

"I wasn't finished," she protested, catching up with him as he reached the door of the next carriage.

"Finished doing what, exactly?" Wearily, he turned back to her. "Trying to make me feel guilty? It's not going to work, Summer. I meant what I said to you that day, in the library. You had to hear it."

Summer folded her arms. "No, you decided that I had to hear it. All I was trying to do was be a good friend to you - " He snorted, but she continued, her voice hard, " – and you threw it back in my face. You made me feel awful. And for what? For not knowing how you felt about me? How was I supposed to know, Albus?"

Albus laughed bitterly. "Oh, I don't know, Summer. It's not like I gave you any hint…"

"James was the one I had feelings for," she said, in a low voice. "It was always him. You were a good friend to me, and I never treated you as more than that."

"Oh, really?"

Summer Birchgrove looked at him for a long moment, without answering. The train juddered slightly, and she reached out a hand, gripping the side of the door. "You know something?" she said at last. "After you were attacked, people started talking about how you had a big argument with James, on the day it happened. I thought it was just a rumour, but then James told me it was true – that you two had really laid into each other. And when I asked him what you had fought about…" She broke off, then resumed, "He told me. Some of it, at least. Then I understood why you had acted the way you did, in the library."

Albus looked away, and did not say anything. They heard a burst of laughter as a group of third-year students moved past them, on their way to the lunch trolley.

"I wasn't really important," Summer said, once the other students had passed out of earshot. "Was I? Yours and James' fight was never about me, was it? It was about other stuff. Family stuff." Tears sprang to her eyes for the first time, and her voice cracked as she said, "But I was the one to get hurt."

Albus adjusted his glasses, though they were already secure on the top of his nose. "I don't know what you expect me to say."

"I never thought of you as anything but a friend," Summer said quietly. "If I ever made you think that I saw you as more than that, I didn't mean to. I don't see how being nice to you makes me to blame, and I'm sorry you got hurt. But, you know - " with a sigh as she turned away, " – so did I."

Albus stood still for a moment after Summer left, listening to the sound of the trolley witch's voice in the next carriage over with only a little interest, for his appetite appeared to have evaporated.

---

The train was passing Preston when Rose retreated to the bathroom to change into her Muggle clothes. She stared into the shaking mirror, flicking her hair over her shoulders and straightening the sleeves of her blouse. Through the glass of the window, which was tightly sealed, she could hear the rushing air outside.

And, for some reason, when she closed her eyes, she could see Tony again, with that distant look in his eyes as he had stood on the platform that morning, after Penny had passed them. I don't think it's that…

It took considerable effort to force the image from her mind, unlock the door of the bathroom, and step out into the aisle of the train. Just as she was collecting herself, the train gave a jolt, and she was pitched forwards into someone who grasped her shoulders, steadying her.

"Hi."

Rose looked up at Scorpius. "Hi."

He stepped back, letting go of her shoulders in the process, but there was something in his eyes as he looked at her – something that was utterly different from Tony's warm glance, and only served to disorient her further. It didn't help that his blond hair was tousled in a way that made him look much younger than Rose was used to. To cover her confusion, she said briskly, "Have you heard anything?"

"From Orchid and Torrance? No." Scorpius's smile dropped away.

"So they haven't written to you?"

He exhaled. "No, they haven't written to me, Rose. I would tell you if they had."

"Would you?" Catching his look, "I mean, they used to be your friends, I wouldn't expect you to - "

"Rose, give it a rest, would you?"

"I'm just saying…"

"It's all you've been saying to me for the past month." Scorpius put a hand to his forehead, pushing back his hair, and shut his eyes for a moment. She watched him for a moment, then said, more gently,

"I know this can't be easy for you."

He snorted. "Oh, do you?"

"Yes." Rose glared at him. "I happen to have some experience of being betrayed by people who I thought I could trust."

"What happened with Andromeda was different," Scorpius said, as he moved to lean against the wall. "She was a friend of your parents, more like family to you. It's not the same thing, Rose."

"Fine." She shrugged. "I'm sorry for trying to help."

"Help?" he repeated, lifting his eyes to hers again, one hand still clenched against his forehead. "You think this is helping? You're rubbing it in."

"I am not." Rose took a step backwards. "It's not my fault your friends turned out to be evil."

His face blanched. "Evil? Don't you realise things are a bit more complicated than that?"

"They cut up my cousin with Dark Magic. I don't see what's complicated about that."

"Well, let me enlighten you," Scorpius replied, lowering his hand. "Orchid and Torrance are much too clever to have exposed themselves like that for good reason."

"You're saying they had good reason to attack my cousin?"

"I'm saying that they wouldn't have just thrown away their time at Hogwarts unless it was for something very important to them. Your cousin must have posed some kind of threat to their plans – maybe he knew something."

"If you're suggesting that Albus was somehow to blame…" Rose began, her voice low, but Scorpius sighed, shaking his head.

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Maybe your friends just didn't think about consequences. Maybe they don't care."

"I keep telling you, Rose," Scorpius said, frustration rising in his tone. "I know them better than you do. I've known them since first year. Will you just trust me?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "I don't feel like arguing about this." As she made to move away, he reached out and put a hand on her arm. She spun around again. "Why do you always do that?" She shook him off. "It's really annoying!"

Scorpius was frowning at her. "Are you… feeling all right?"

"Yeah! Fine! I just wish you wouldn't grab my arm all the time!"

"OK," he said slowly, "Duly noted."

"Good." She glowered at him for another few seconds, then turned away again. He did not reach out this time, but he said, more softly than he had spoken before,

"Will you just do one thing for me, Rose?"

"What?"

"Will you keep your eyes open? Don't make any assumptions until you've got all the facts. Just… be alert."

---

"Lily won't even look at me." Carlos Santini threw his head back against his seat and sighed loudly. "I don't know why she's being so stubborn."

"I don't know why we're even talking about this," Nina said flatly, not looking up from her book.

"And I don't know why he's even here," Scorpius added, with a glower in Santini's general direction. His gaze had been fixed on the bumpy, hilly land visible through the train windows, his mind on his conversation with Rose earlier.

"Because Torrance isn't," Jem said, from beside Santini. "He doesn't have anyone else to share a compartment with."

"I do," Santini said, annoyed. He lifted his head. "I just chose you lot."

"Well, lucky us," Scorpius murmured.

"Not a word," Carlos resumed morosely. "Not since Valentine's Day." His eyes found Scorpius's. "I was honest with her; I told her I was sorry, that I loved her."

"Do I look like I care?" Scorpius replied.

"I just figured you'd understand." Santini cast his eyes upwards, rolling his head back again. "Since you spend so much time with that Weasley girl…"

"Rose is our friend," Nina snapped, before Scorpius could form a composed reply. "You seduced Lily Potter to win a lousy bet."

"Seduced?" Jem repeated, with the smallest of smiles. "We're not in a nineteenth century novel, Nina. Lily had her own free will. She wasn't Imperiused. She didn't have to go out with Carlos. She didn't have to, well…"

"She's fifteen," Scorpius interrupted, his eyes on Santini. "And he took advantage of her."

"I love her." Santini glared at him.

"If that were true, you wouldn't have deceived her like that," Nina argued.

"I told her the truth!"

"Yeah, when you had nothing to lose," Scorpius pointed out. "When you'd already gotten what you wanted."

"You don't get to lecture me about withholding the truth, Malfoy," Santini shot back. "I'm not the one who goes sneaking off to Hogsmeade all the time without telling anyone where I'm going."

"It's true, you do that," Jem said, with a glance at Scorpius, who simply leaned back in his seat.

"Not the same thing, I'm afraid, Santini."

"What about you not telling anyone that Blaise Zabini is your uncle?"

"Still not the same thing."

"You're a bloody hypocrite, Malfoy," Santini snapped.

Scorpius raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you know such a big word."

"Watch it." Suddenly, Santini had risen to his feet, his wand pointing at Scorpius, while Jem and Nina stared. A vein was throbbing in the Slytherin captain's forehead, and his dark eyes were flashing with anger. "Maybe I should remind you that I've been approached by quite a few players who would be happy to replace you as Seeker: players who wouldn't mistake a wristwatch for the Snitch."

Scorpius regarded him with a calm that he did not feel. "Maybe I should remind you that happened in the same match that you knocked Lily Potter out with a Bludger."

"You – how dare you – that was before I knew her!" Santini said, furious. "Before I loved her!"

"Yes, that was the day that you hatched your diabolical plan to win her heart, if I remember," Scorpius said dryly. "Except, hang on, it wasn't really to win her heart, was it? It was to win something else…"

Santini made a surge forward and would have struck Scorpius, had Jem and Nina not moved to restrain him on either side. He struggled against their hold, his eyes fixed on Scorpius all the while, who had at this point reached for his own wand. "You have no right," Santini snarled. "No right."

"Give it up, both of you," Nina said sharply. "This is stupid."

With one last glare at Scorpius, Santini swung towards the door, shaking off both of his companions. It slammed behind him a moment later, the sound reverberating in their ears, and Jem raised his eyebrows at Scorpius. "Happy now?"

"Yes, actually," Scorpius said, quite honestly.

Jem sighed. "You know, Carlos really isn't as bad as you make him out to be. If you just tried to get along…"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Not this again, Jem."

"He's really been there for me," his friend continued doggedly, "after everything that's happened with my dad."

There was a heavy silence, during which both Nina and Scorpius exchanged looks and then glanced at Jem, who met their gazes calmly. The implication of his words hung in the air, but neither of them felt justified in challenging it. Carlos has been there for me. You haven't.

"Good for him," Scorpius said eventually. Then, awkwardly, "And you know, if there's anything you need…"

"I know," Jem said quietly, looking down. "I've got you lot."

---

Keep your eyes open. Rose sighed, leaning her chin on her hand. What great advice. As if she went blundering around the place half the time with them closed. She was the one who had found out about Carlotta Pinkstone, wasn't she? She was the one who had figured out that Geoffrey Alderton was responsible for the poisoning at the wedding. So where did Scorpius get off telling her to 'be alert'?

"Cheer up, Rose," Albus said wearily. "It might never happen."

"You're one to talk," she said, scowling across the compartment at him. "You've been grumpy all afternoon."

"But I'm allowed to be grumpy," he returned, with a glance at Cassie and Rory, who were chuckling over Penny's copy of The Quibbler together. "Isn't that right, you lot?"

Cassie and Rory both made noises of assent, while Penny remained silent in the corner. Rose rolled her eyes, though Albus's words made her shiver a little. "You can't use what happened to you as an excuse to be grumpy."

"Can't I?" Albus raised his eyebrows. "You try being hit with the Sectumsempra Curse. It isn't much fun. And the scars are a bit of a drag, too."

"You shouldn't joke about that," Rose said sharply. Unbidden, her eyes fell on the faint red line slicing down the side of Albus's neck, barely visible in the dimness of the compartment.

"Why not?" Albus asked. The others had fallen silent, watching the exchange. "Because it makes you uncomfortable?"

"Well, can you blame me if it does?" she spluttered.

"It helps," he said quietly. "Joking about what happened. When I do it, I feel like… like…"

"Like things could be normal again?" Penny said tentatively.

Albus turned to her, and after a moment, he nodded. "Yeah. Exactly."

Rose looked down, her hair obscuring her face. "I'm sorry, Al. It's just that I was there afterwards, and I saw – everything – and - " And I still have nightmares about it. Standing there, so helpless, covered in her cousin's blood…

"I know what you did for me, Rose," Albus said gravely. "I'll never forget it."

Rose shook her head. "No… that's not what I…" She could sense everyone's gaze on her, and her shoulders sagged. "I didn't mean…"

"You're a hero, Rose," Cassie said, her voice hushed.

"I'm not," Rose said emphatically. "I'm really not."

"You're a hero," Albus reiterated, firmly. "And an exhausted one at that. Heroes deserve rest." Glancing out the window, "We're still about an hour away from London. You should get some sleep."

Though Rose took issue with some of her cousin's speech, she could not argue with the latter half of it. Having lain awake most of the previous night in anticipation of the journey, her lids were heavy with weariness.

So, curling up against the window with her cloak draped over her, she emptied her mind as best she could, letting the motion of the train lull her into an uneasy doze. The sound of her friends' voices floated in and out of her ears as she drifted off. Nonsensical words and sentences and names meshed themselves together in her mind, and dappled sunlight struck her eyelids at intervals.

At one point, in the limbo between sleep and wakefulness, Rose squinted out of one eye and saw Penny staring across at her from the other end of the compartment. The space between them yawned much wider than Rose had thought it possible, and Penny's eyes shone like two half-moons, imprinting themselves on her vision even after her eyes had closed again.

When next Rose opened her eyes, the compartment was empty. The countryside still flashed by the windows before her, but it seemed different, somehow – vague and unfamiliar and much too large. She put her hand out to the glass of the window, but could not reach it. It was frustrating. Her fingers brushed nothing, and she could hear someone talking, in her ear, even though there was no one in the compartment with her.

And then there was someone. Penny was sitting in her old place again, but she was not looking at Rose this time. She stared fixedly out the window as the light played over her sweet, heart-shaped face, and she did not turn, or say anything. And Rose knew, somehow, that though they were still on the train, they were also back in their dormitory at Hogwarts, in Gryffindor Tower.

She heard the voice in her ear again, more distinctly, and it was Cassie's. She said, in a sing-song voice, Penny's getting up to some mischief.

"Penny," Rose said mildly, as they sat in their compartment-turned-dormitory. "Are you getting up to some mischief?" But Penny did not turn, or say anything.

Scorpius's voice was buzzing in her ear now; she batted it away as she would a fly. Keep your eyes open.

There was a cat in Penny's lap now, a black cat, and it was hissing at her as she pulled at its tail. Rose gasped as it hurled itself out the window a second later, but there was no shattering of glass; and when she reached out her hand again, it still passed through nothingness.

She looked back, and the compartment had faded away entirely; now they were in the old runologist's shop in Knockturn Alley, in the room where the walls had been papered with symbols, looming symbols in hideous black ink, and Penny was gazing up at them, her eyes alight with curiosity. Finally, she turned around and looked straight at Rose. "Maybe it's just a prank."

"Maybe," Rose replied, a lot more doubtfully. Penny did not seem to hear her, anyway, even when Rose repeated herself. Her head tilted to the side, she took a step forward, reaching a hand up.

"Penny, don't!" Rose cried. "Don't touch them!"

Still, Penny ignored her. She took another step forward, and then her fingers brushed the paper and she was swallowed into nothingness.

"Penny!"

Rose jerked upwards in her seat, wide awake. The compartment was darker than it had been, and the others had broken off their conversation, staring at her. She blinked back at them. "Where's Penny?"

"She went to get changed," Albus said, perplexed. "We're pulling into King's Cross now."

A little unsteadily, Rose got to her feet, staring at Penny's corner. "Her things are gone."

"Yeah, she took them with her. Why – "

Rose didn't hear the rest of her cousin's sentence. In the next moment, she had flown out of the compartment, slamming the door behind her and breaking into a run. Glass doors flashed past as she careered down the aisle. Alarmed faces were there in one instant and gone the next – and none of them Penny's.

If anyone had asked Rose, she would not have been able to tell them why she was running – why she was so frightened all of a sudden – why it felt so important that she should find Penny, and find her now. But she felt it, viscerally. It kept her feet flying and her heart thumping hard in her chest, as she ran the length of the train.

The Hogwarts Express was slowing down now, and students were emerging from their compartments, luggage in tow as they chattered loudly to each other. Rose narrowly avoided slamming into a broad fifth-year boy and skidded to a halt as she reached the last carriage. The door was just beginning to slide open. She pushed to the front of the crowd that was already there and was among the first to step onto the platform.

A blast of steam from the train obscured her vision for a moment, and then through it, she saw a flitting figure, and a flash of blonde hair. Waiting families loomed out of the steam and then faded away again; Rose dodged around them, following the figure that ran only paces ahead of her. It disappeared into the stone barrier, and she hurtled after it, bursting out into the throng of Muggles in King's Cross Station.

"Watch where you're going!" a man with a briefcase snapped at her, and Rose spun around, almost tripping on the concrete, which was slippery with footprints. Her hand landed on the shoulder of a blonde woman in a parka, who gave her a frightened look.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I thought you were…" The woman had already hurried past her. Desperately, Rose stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the Muggle's heads, and then the surge of the crowd knocked her to the ground. Her hands groped for purchase on the slippery concrete, and she swore savagely. By the time she had found her feet again, Penny Alderton was long gone, lost in the din and dirt of the station.

---

"How can you be so sure, Rosie?"

"I can't explain it." Rose looked down at her hands, folded before her. She could sense her parents' worried gazes across the kitchen table. The sea was roaring outside their house, sounding as though it would engulf them all at any moment.

"I believe you," Hugo said loyally. "If you say that Penny girl had something to do with what happened to your boyfriend, I believe you."

"Boyfriend?" Ron Weasley repeated, his eyes swivelling from his son to his daughter. "What boyfriend?"

"Thanks, Hugo," Rose said dryly, while her brother grimaced in apology.

"How many secrets have you been keeping from us this year?" her father demanded, pointing a finger at her. "First Andromeda, and now this?"

"Ron," Hermione said, "Is this really the part of Rose's story that you're choosing to focus on?"

"He's just a Hufflepuff," Rose said impatiently. "I've gone on a few dates with him. It's not important, Dad. What's important is that he was attacked a few months ago, after a match - "

"Oh, Tony Mason," her mother said, nodding. She was still in her Ministry robes, having just come from work to collect Rose and Hugo from the station. "We heard about what happened to him." Lowering her voice, she added, "He's lovely, Rosie."

Despite herself, Rose smiled a little. "I know!"

"I don't think I'm the only one getting sidetracked here," her father interrupted, and they both turned back to look at him.

"Right," Rose resumed, more seriously, "So Tony was attacked after the match, and I think Penny and a couple of Slytherins might have been involved."

"But Penny's your friend, Rosie," her mother cut in, frowning. "Isn't she?"

"Her brother's a bad egg," Ron pointed out, with a shrug. "Why not her?"

"It's not fair to judge the poor girl by her brother," Hermione argued, but Rose held up a hand.

"Just hear me out," she entreated. "I think Penny might have been Imperiused. Orchid Ottelby – the Slytherin girl who attacked Albus – was talking to her in the stands during the match; I remember seeing them together. She could have cast the curse then, and gotten Penny to carry out her dirty work."

"Why?" her father asked.

"I don't know why," Rose admitted, "But I do remember that Albus was worried about Penny that day. If he somehow found out about what had happened, wouldn't that explain why he was attacked by Bole and Ottelby? Because he knew something?"

Her parents were both silent for a moment, exchanging a glance that was meant only for each other.

"They're so young," Hermione said softly. "Just children. I bet those Slytherins are barely of age. To be attacking each other like that, using Unforgivables..."

"I don't know," Ron said sourly. "Malfoy was fairly comfortable with his Unforgivables when he was that age, remember?"

"But that was different," Hermione reminded him. "Times have changed. They're supposed to be safe from that." With one long look at her children, she pushed to her feet. "I'm going back to the Ministry."

"You only just left!" her husband protested, but Hermione just gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Send an owl to Ginny and Harry, let them know what's happened. I mightn't be back till late." With a squeeze of Hugo's arm, she left the room. Rose followed her to the fireplace in the parlour.

"So do you think I'm right?"

Her mother took the box of Floo Powder from the mantelpiece and turned to look at her. "I don't know, Rosie. That's what I intend to find out. You've been right about a lot of things before this…" She paused. "I'm glad you told us about this as soon as you knew."

"Of course," Rose muttered, looking down, but her mother gently took hold of her chin, raising it so their faces were level.

"I hope it can be like that from now on." Sternly, "No secrets. And that includes this business with Tony Mason."

Rose simply nodded, finding it hard to do anything else under her mother's scrutinising gaze. "No secrets."

"Good," her mother said, letting go of her chin and taking a pinch of Floo Powder from the box. She scattered it over the flames and stepped in.

When she was left alone, Rose wondered why she had felt that old, familiar heaviness at her mother's words, as though her limbs had been replaced by lead.

---

"Mother, will you be so kind as to pass the butter?"

Ginny Weasley seized the dish and slid it down the table to her son. Sunlight was spilling in through the windows of the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow, falling upon the faces of the family as they sat at breakfast. "I'm glad to see you're not too reliant on magic when you're at home, James."

"But next time use a Summoning charm," his father added as he lifted a forkful of scrambled egg to his mouth, prompting a ripple of quiet laughter at the table.

"I was thinking of paying a visit to Mrs. Alderton this morning," James announced, once it had died down.

The Potters were silent for a long moment. "I don't think that's such a good idea," Harry said at last.

"Why not?" Lily asked curiously, and her parents exchanged a glance. "What's wrong with the Aldertons?"

"What a question," Albus murmured.

"Sophie Alderton is a fine witch, and a good neighbour," Ginny said firmly, a moment later. "She has been for years. But - " hesitating " – I'm not so sure about her children."

"Penny's one of the sweetest girls in school!" Lily protested. "She's a friend of Rose's." Then, with a glance towards her brothers, both of whom were suddenly very occupied by their food, she frowned, setting down her own toast. "What do you all know that I don't?"

It was her father who answered this time. "Lily," he said gently, "I think it's best if you just stay away from Penny Alderton for now. We will tell you why, but at the moment - "

"I'm too young to understand?" Lily rose from her chair and pushed it back from the table so violently that even James flinched. "Don't give me that. You never keep things from Albus and James. But because I'm the girl - "

Fire flashed in Ginny Potter's eyes, and she stood from the table as abruptly as her daughter had. "It's not because of that, Lily. Your father and I have often had to keep things from all three of you, for your own protection - "

"Well, that's comforting," James said in an undertone, then he shut his mouth as his mother shot him a glare. Lily, meanwhile, gave a snort of derision and stomped out of the kitchen. Harry closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead as the door slammed behind her. Instantly, Ginny was at his side, holding his shoulder while James and Albus stared. "Is it your scar?"

"No," Harry said wearily, his hand sliding from his forehead and gripping his wife's for a moment. Then he opened his eyes again, fixing them on James. "Why did you have to bring up the Aldertons?"

"Can you blame me?" James demanded. "After what the Weasleys told us a few days ago?"

Harry sighed. "We told you that we're taking care of that, James. The search for Geoffrey has been expanded to include his sister. There's no need for you to get involved, but you always do! Why?"

His son blinked back at him, without forming a response. Harry went on, "You know what I do for a living, James. I'm head of the Auror Office." He glanced at Ginny, then put a hand to his forehead again, pushing back his hair so that the lightning-shaped scar was visible. It stood out against his white skin. "You know that they've called me names in the past, during the War. Names that make me out to be a hero, some kind of saviour. The Chosen One. Well, I'm not any of those things, but…" He let his hair cover his scar again, and looked at James again, struggling with his words for a moment. Finally, "Your mother and I both fought in Dumbledore's Army. In the war. Don't you trust us to keep you safe? To keep all of you safe?"

There was a pause, and then his son said quietly, still staring at his plate, "No."

Ginny was the first to speak. "James. You don't mean that."

His head shot up, and he comprehended both of them in his glance. "I do." Slowly, he got to his feet. "All year, things have been happening. Not just in the school, but all over the country. And every time, you and Hobspawn says the Aurors are looking into it, or that there are search teams out, or that the matter is being investigated. Well, you know what I think?" No one replied, and he continued, his voice cracking a little, "I think you don't know how to stop it. I think you're too terrified to admit that these people – Blaise Zabini, and Carlotta Pinkstone, and the Aldertons, and even a couple of Slytherin students – that they've got the better of you." More silence. "You weren't able to stop Andromeda being killed. You weren't able to stop Albus getting Cursed within an inch of his life."

"James, don't," Albus said in a pained voice, but his brother ignored him.

"I'm going to go look for the Aldertons now," he said, his voice cracking again as he rounded the table, "and you can't stop me. And who knows, maybe I'll actually do what you couldn't and find them."

For the second time that morning, the kitchen door slammed shut. Albus, Ginny and Harry were left at the table, staring at each other.

"We should stop him," Ginny said, almost more to herself than to the other two.

Harry was pale. "Let him do what he wants."

"Harry, come on." Ginny looked up as her husband rose from the table, mechanically producing his wand and sending the dirty dishes flying from the table to the draining board.

"What? James has always been good at taking care of himself." Harry's words were clipped.

"That's not what I'm worried about," she replied, sharply. "He shouldn't be allowed to get away with speaking to us like that. That's what I mean."

"Why not?" Harry Potter shrugged his shoulders, his glasses shifting a little on his nose as he did so. "He's right, isn't he? We don't know how to stop these people. Our own children don't even trust us to protect them anymore."

"I trust you," Albus said quietly, but this went unnoticed by both of his parents.

"What's the good of any of it?" Harry went on, just as dispiritedly as before. "What can we do?"

"We can fight," Ginny said, the blazing look in her eyes again. "Like we always have before."

But her husband simply shook his head. "It's no good, Ginny. Now, I'm off to work, where I'm going to sit around and watch more people get hurt because of me. Like I always have before."

---

A knock came on Lily Potter's door, and she raised her head and glared at it for a minute before reluctantly calling, "Come in."

Her mother entered her bedroom. She had changed robes since breakfast, and there were worry lines in her brow that had not been there before. "I'm heading to work now, love."

"All right." Lily adjusted her position on the bed and looked down at her book again, pretending to read on, while her mother lingered in the doorway.

"About this morning…"

"Yeah?" Lily looked up, suddenly eager. "Are you going to tell me about the Aldertons?"

"You weren't yourself," her mother went on, as though she hadn't spoken. "You haven't been yourself since you got back."

"Just tired from school," Lily muttered. "I've had so much work to do…"

"Yeah, you know I'm not thick, Lily." Ginny smiled a little, moving into her room and shutting the door behind her. "Mind if I sit?" On her daughter's vaguely affirmative grunt, she seated herself on the white bedspread, a little distance away from Lily. "So, is it boy trouble?"

"No."

"Funny, because James and Albus mentioned something about a boy…"

Lily set down her book. "I'm going to kill them." Then she caught her mother's eye, and narrowed her own eyes. "Hang on. They'd know better than to say anything about it."

"Absolutely right." Ginny folded her arms. "I'm afraid you just blew your cover, Lily."

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Lily said in mock severity. "Tricking your daughter into revealing her secrets like that." Then she sighed. "There was a boy, a little while ago."

"And?"

"No names," Lily said steadily, and her mother pouted a little in disappointment. "I really, really thought I liked him, but he… er… wasn't who I thought he was. So I ended things, but I ran into him again on the train yesterday, and it… wasn't easy."

Ginny looked down, frowning. "I'm sorry to hear that, Lily."

"You're thinking what kind of hex you would use on him if you could, aren't you?" her daughter teased. "I'm glad I didn't tell you his name." Then her face grew more serious. "I shouldn't have trusted him so much. It was stupid."

"We all do stupid things from time to time. Particularly when a boy's involved." Ginny gave her daughter a sidelong glance. "I happen to have some experience in that area."

Lily cocked her head in confusion for a moment, then she gave a slow nod. "The diary. Of course."

"Yes, the diary." Ginny folded her hands in her lap, looking around the fresh, pretty room, whose corners still held piles of toys and abandoned dollhouses. It was still a child's room. She drew in a deep breath. "I trusted a piece of paper, and a lot of people got hurt because of it. Almost killed. And remembering that nearly killed me, for a long time afterwards."

"How did you get over it?" Lily asked in a small voice.

"To be honest with you, I never did, entirely." Ginny gave a weak smile. "When I was hired by the Prophet, and they advised me to keep a work journal, it bothered me a bit at first. But I did it, all the same. I've kept it strictly business over the years, nothing personal. If my first year at Hogwarts taught me one thing, it was that." She looked thoughtful. "There was something your father said earlier, Lily. About the mistakes we make, and how we often find ourselves repeating them."

"You and Dad don't," Lily said at once.

"Believe it or not, we do." Ginny rose from the bed in a swish of robes, and rested a hand on her daughter's shoulder for a moment. "But that's OK, Lily. As long as we try to learn something each time. That's the main thing."

"You think so?"

"I do." However, her mother's smile faded after a moment, and her brow creased again. "But then, sometimes you don't learn anything. Sometimes a bad experience is just that, and you've got to try your best to pick yourself up again after it's done."

---

"A dreadful business," Daphne Greengrass said, raising the cup of tea to her lips. "Just dreadful."

Scorpius, who was sitting at the other end of the kitchen table, raised his eyebrows. "Yes, it was rather bad. Very bloody." Then, as his father turned to look at him from where he stood by the sink, he added, "Or so I'm told."

"No, I didn't mean that business with the Potter boy," his aunt said, with an impatient wave of her hand. "Though, Merlin knows there's been enough hubbub about that lately to make a banshee cover her ears. Would you believe, Draco - " turning towards him as she spoke, and shaking a finger for emphasis, " – that every morning this week when I've bought the paper, that boy's face has been staring up at me on the front page? Alfred or Allan or whatever his name is…"

"Albus," Scorpius supplied, suppressing a smirk with some difficulty. "What business did you mean, then, aunt?"

"The business with the Muggle," his aunt said. At his blank look, "The one you saw by the lake in Hogwarts, about a month ago. Barnes, I think his name was."

"How did you know about that?" Scorpius stared at her.

"Well, your father didn't tell me, that's for sure," Daphne said, with another pointed glance towards Draco, who was gazing down at the sink very intently. "No, I have my sources around the school, Scorpius. I have to, since Tobias won't tell me anything." She leaned forward in her seat, suddenly eager – alarmingly so. "Now, I want to hear all about it. Every detail. Everything you can recall."

Scorpius had a faint hope of his father rescuing him, but as the latter chose that moment to absent himself from the kitchen with some muttered excuse, he was forced to embark on the story that he had already told a handful of times, to Hobspawn, to his father, of course, to Jem and Nina, and… to Rose. His aunt listened with slightly narrowed eyes, cutting in whenever he had not been specific enough, and Scorpius's head was hurting by the time he had finished.

"And this Muggle said he could see Hogwarts?" his aunt asked, for about the third time, as she tapped her fingers nervously on her thigh.

"Yes," Scorpius said curtly.

"But that means he must have broken through the castle's defensive charms somehow."

"Yes," he said again, rubbing a hand over his eyes and wishing he had stayed in bed altogether. Being grilled by his aunt was not how he had planned on spending the first day of his holidays.

"It's that crowd again, of course," his aunt said abruptly. At his confused glance, she added, "His crowd."

Suddenly Scorpius could see, exactly, why his father had made a point of leaving the room to avoid this discussion. "You mean Zabini's crowd?"

His aunt winced at the mention of the name. "Yes, yes; him. Who else could I mean, Scorpius?"

"I don't know," he said quietly, "Maybe my father?"

Daphne Greengrass touched the tips of her forefingers to her temples, as though she were the only one wearied by this discussion, and regarded Scorpius kindly. "Now, Scorpius, I've told you before that you mustn't believe what you read in the Daily Prophet. Neither one of your parents have anything to do with that… that crowd. You might have seen your mother's face mixed in with theirs on the news, but that is because she was broken out of Azkaban by them, and the Ministry cannot distinguish between the victims of this crowd…" with a shudder, "… and – well – those who are – well - " She left the sentence hanging, and Scorpius knew it would be pointless to wait for her to finish it.

"They have a name," he told her. "The Truthseekers."

"To give a thing a name is to give it power," his aunt said sagely, and Scorpius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "And as for your father," she went on robustly after dispensing that gem of wisdom, "He was just as much of a victim of circumstances. He was kidnapped, you see, by - " with a visible effort, " – by Zabini."

Scorpius cast his eyes downwards. "I don't think that's the whole story."

"Nonsense." Daphne Greengrass straightened in her chair. "I heard it from your father himself. It was one of the only things he did tell me. Now you must put it out of your head, Scorpius." Turning as his father re-entered the kitchen, she said brusquely, "Any news from Astoria?"

"She hasn't exactly kept in touch," Draco replied flatly, taking a seat across from them at the table. "At least not with me."

"Nor with me." Daphne sighed, and met Scorpius's gaze again. "Toria and I used to be so close, you know. Before you and your father came along…"

"It was your husband who introduced Astoria to me in the first place, if you remember," Draco pointed out, a little wickedly, and his sister-in-law fixed him with a withering glare.

"He is not my husband anymore."

There was an awkward silence, during which Daphne tapped her long fingers on the table, looking by turns furious and thoughtful. At last she said, "Do you think the Ministry will grant her a pardon?"

"If it can be proven that she was taken from Azkaban by force rather than escaping of her own volition," Draco replied, rising from the table again, "Then, yes, I do. The charges from the wedding have by this time, I think, been discovered by the Aurors to be false."

"They took long enough about it," Scorpius's aunt said disdainfully. Turning her head again as he moved towards the door, "Where are you going?"

"The goblins at Gringotts await," Draco said dryly. "Much as I'd like to accompany you around the shops – but I'm sure Scorpius will do just as well." His eyes met his son's, and there was the slightest hint of a smirk around his lips. Scorpius recalled, then, the evening of his mother's arrest, when he had left his father alone to entertain Daphne and the boys. It had been months ago, but Draco had finally exacted his revenge, and Scorpius had to admire him a little for that.

---

Everyone was saying that it was the warmest April they'd had in decades, and Rose could well believe it. The very walls of Madam Malkin's establishment seemed to be sweating. As she beheld the endless pile of thick cloaks behind the counter, she could not help but think that her cousin must have had a particular death wish, in willingly choosing to be apprenticed here.

"It's not so bad," Roxanne Weasley said, as though she had read Rose's mind. After wiping her damp brow, she neatly folded the first cloak. "You might be glad of a few weeks' work here during the summer." With a glance towards the stockroom door, through which the proprietor had just disappeared, "If her Ladyship allows it."

There was a crackle of interference on the wireless that was set beside them on the counter, and the slow Sirens number resumed playing. Rose glanced at it, then back at Roxanne, considering. "Well, it'd be something to do."

"I'd say you're bored to tears with Easter already," Roxanne said, still folding.

"Not really," Rose said, shifting where she stood. "There's – well, there's been a lot going on."

"Oh? Do tell."

Rose opened her mouth, but before she could update her cousin as to recent events, the bell above the door of the shop tinkled, and two customers entered. Two customers… Rose did a double-take. Scorpius Malfoy stood just inside the doorway, with a severe-looking older witch clutching his arm.

"Where's Malkin?" the witch demanded.

"I'll get her for you, ma'am," Roxanne said quickly, disappearing inside the stockroom. Rose remained by the counter.

"And who are you?" The older witch surveyed her.

"Aunt Daphne," Scorpius said smoothly, "This is Rose Weasley. She's in my year at school."

"Weasley?" Scorpius's aunt wrinkled her nose. She looked at Rose with sharp green eyes that seemed to go right through her. The same way her sister's eyes had, months ago. Rose was immensely relieved when Madam Malkin emerged from the stockroom with a sweep of her robes. "How can I help you, Ms Greengrass?"

Feeling immeasurably grateful, Rose inched back from the Greengrass witch, planning to make a retreat from the shop, but then her eye caught Scorpius's. He was looking at her coolly, and as his aunt moved off towards the display materials with Roxanne, he tilted his head.

"What are you doing here?"

"My cousin works here," Rose explained, with a vague gesture. "I was visiting her."

Scorpius raised his eyebrows. "Ah."

There was an awkward silence, during which his aunt's expostulations on the flimsiness of muslin reached their ears from across the shop. The Sirens song on the wireless had ended, and they heard a female announcer's voice on the W.W.N with the news. "The Minister for Magic, Percy Weasley, is to announce new legislation tonight in a public address…"

Rose brushed an imaginary speck of dirt from her jeans and then said, in a low voice, "The other day, when we met on the train - I was rude."

"No, you weren't." Scorpius shrugged his shoulders, his expression one of studied blankness that Rose was beginning to recognise for what it was: a cover that he only used – that he only needed to use – when he was upset about something. "You were fine."

"No, I was rude." Rose sighed, resting her hands on her hips. "The truth is… I was confused."

His eyes had followed the movement of her hands. "Confused about what?"

Rose's face warmed, and finding the words to respond took some effort, because the way he was looking at her now threatened to confuse her all over again. At last, she said quietly, "I never know where I stand with you. We say we're friends, but over the past month, things have been… well, different."

He stiffened. "You mean because of Orchid and Torrance."

"Not just them." Conscious now of his stare, Rose lifted her chin and met his gaze again. "Because of what we saw together, the day Albus was attacked. I feel like seeing something like that… bonds you to a person."

"Strange," Scorpius said, his tone clipped. His eyes left hers. "I feel the opposite."

Rose pouted as he turned away, and had to resist the urge to reach out and grasp his arm. That would have made her quite the hypocrite, given her words to him the other day. At any rate, before she could say anything, Daphne Greengrass's voice floated over to them from across the shop. "Let's see what my nephew thinks. Scorpius?"

He went to his aunt, and Rose stayed where she was, watching them thoughtfully. Standing a few inches taller than Daphne Greengrass, his hand lightly placed at her elbow and his head bent to speak to her, Scorpius looked every inch the dutiful nephew. What had he meant, Rose wondered, about feeling the opposite?

It's all you've been saying to me for the past month, he had told her impatiently the other day, on the train. And it was true; they hadn't talked about much else other than Albus's attack and Ottelby and Bole's escape. They hadn't talked about the truce they had made that very same day, or about… Rose's blush deepened as she remembered the way he had held her after they had found Albus, when she had been so numb and weary that she could hardly think straight. The way they had stayed there for what seemed like hours, holding each other, until the Aurors came back with Hobspawn to hear what Rose had to tell them.

Was Scorpius upset that she hadn't brought that up yet? Was that what he had meant? She was still pondering this question when the Greengrass witch, satisfied in her purchase, left Madam Malkin's with her nephew in tow, the latter of whom did not so much as glance at Rose as the door swung shut behind them.

---

Daphne Greengrass was uncharacteristically silent on their walk back to Charing Cross Road. Scorpius glanced across at her a few times, but no topic was broached until she said abruptly, "What were you talking about, anyway?"

"When?" Scorpius asked wearily. A few hours' traipsing around the crowded streets of Diagon Alley on a sweltering afternoon, while lugging around his aunt's rapidly increasing load of shopping bags, had been enough to tire him out, and he wanted nothing more than to get home and lie down in the cool for a while.

"With that girl, in Madam Malkin's," his aunt replied impatiently, as though he ought to have been privy to her thought process for the past ten minutes.

"Rose Weasley?"

"Yes. Her." His aunt frowned at him.

"Oh, just… school stuff." With a free hand, Scorpius wiped some sweat from his brow and pushed his hair back.

"She's not a bad-looking girl," Daphne Greengrass said, but in a disapproving tone, as though that were a point against Rose.

"I suppose not." He didn't like where his aunt was going with this.

"Scorpius," she began a moment later, wagging her forefinger, "You know that family's trash. Jumped-up blood traitors, the lot of them. Don't let a pretty face fool you into thinking they're any better than that."

"I won't," he said mechanically.

"Glad to hear it." She came to a halt. They had just reached the grassy square on Charing Cross Road, which was scattered with Muggles enjoying the sun. Scorpius gestured to the townhouse.

"Aren't you coming in?"

His aunt shook her head. "I should be getting back. Thank you for your help today." She reached out and took the bags from him. "You're a good boy, Scorpius."

It was simple praise, praise that should have been condescending. But she said it so simply, and so frankly. So he smiled at her and watched as she stepped away, moving towards a remote corner of the square where she could Disapparate out of sight.

When he got inside the house, there was a letter waiting for him.

---

The hot spell broke at around six o'clock that evening.

"So much for that," Nina Meyer said, as she gloomily watched the sheets of rain flow against the windows of Rose's bedroom. She had come over for dinner after Rose's return from Diagon Alley.

"I think it's exciting," Rose countered, from the windowseat. She was peering out through the glass. "A storm's always exciting."

"Try inconvenient." Nina stretched back on her bed, resting her head against the pillows. "Looks like you'll be stuck with me for another while."

"Make yourself at home," Rose said dryly, uncrossing her legs and rising from her seat.

"So there hasn't been any sign of that Penny girl yet?"

"No sign." Rose collapsed at the end of the bed, moving Nina's feet out of the way none too gently. A distant grumble of thunder sounded outside. "My mum was in the Ministry almost all of last night,They're waiting for her to turn up in Godric's Hollow, so that they can question her, see if she was involved in any of the attacks. All they've got to go on so far is… well, the fact that she ran in the train station when I tried to follow her, and the possibility that she might have been covering for her brother."

"I still can't believe she could have attacked someone," Nina said thoughtfully. She tipped her head up towards the ceiling so that her loose black curls flowed over Rose's pillows. "Even if she was Imperiused. How did she get involved with those two in the first place? She seemed so quiet. So… mild." She grimaced. "I suppose that explains why Orchid found it easy to get to her."

"You think?"

"Oh, yeah." Nina's tone soured. "She's poison, Rose. Utter poison." She smiled a little then, wryly. "I should know."

"And it was Orchid who attacked Albus, not Penny," Rose said, almost more to herself than to Nina.

There was a brief silence, then Nina said quietly, "And you saved his life."

"The Aurors saved Albus's life," Rose said staunchly. "Madam Pomfrey saved his life. The healers at St Mungo's saved his life. I just…"

"You kept him alive till they could take over." Nina raised her head from the pillows and regarded Rose in disbelief, as a faint flash of lightning shot through the room. "You used the Vulnera Sanentur, and you're not even seventeen yet. Do you realise what that means?"

"I don't know if I do," Rose mumbled.

"It means," Nina said measuredly, "that you're going to be a very powerful Healer someday."

Another roll of thunder sounded, closer this time, and the two witches were silent for a moment, listening to it. Then Rose said slowly, "I'm not sure if I want that anymore."

"To be a Healer?" Nina turned to look at her again, sitting up fully. "But hasn't that always been your grand ambition, Weasley? I remember you going on about it in careers class last year."

"Yeah." Rose looked down, tracing a pattern on her patchwork quilt. "It was, but what happened with Albus made me think."

"About what?"

"About how powerless Healers are." She looked up again, her face set like stone. "I was there that night, holding Albus and watching him bleed all over the place, and the only thing I could think of was how I had let this happen – how I wasn't able to stop it."

"That's stupid," Nina said bluntly.

"No, it isn't." Rose sighed through her nose. "I don't want to be the person who picks up the pieces. I want to be the person who stops these awful things from happening in the first place."

"What, like an Auror?"

"I don't know." Rose frowned, watching Nina for a moment, until the latter said defensively,

"What?"

"Tell me more about Orchid."

Nina scratched her head. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything, really. Just… to remind me that she was human." Rose's jaw tightened. "Because I can't help thinking of her as a monster right now."

"Orchid isn't a monster," Nina said, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. "She's manipulative. She's selfish. She's cruel. But… you know, she's had it rough, too."

"Poor thing," Rose said, in a voice laced with sarcasm. Nina sighed.

"Merlin knows I'm not defending her, Rose, I'm just trying to make you understand. Her mum was killed in an accident when she and her sister were really young, and their dad never really got over it. He drinks a lot, you know." Nina's brow creased. "I was over at their flat once, in Knockturn Alley. A complete dump. Her dad doesn't clean up after himself, and Orchid doesn't seem to care, but her sister…" She pursed her lips. "That's no place for a little kid like her."

"I didn't know Orchid had a sister."

"Yeah, Iris. Is she starting to seem more human to you now?"

"A little," Rose muttered, then turned around on the bed completely to face Nina. "How did you two ever get friendly, anyway?"

"She was the first person I met on the train," Nina said reflectively. "She brought me to a compartment with Laura, Hilda and some other girls in our year, knew most of them from before. I didn't know anyone – I'd only just found out that magic existed – but Orchid never made me feel left out. Not back then. Even when I was sorted into Slytherin, and a few people kicked up a fuss because I'm Muggleborn. She sort of… took me under her wing."

"What about Jem and Scorpius? Weren't you friends with them back then?"

Nina shook her head. "They were in Torrance's gang. Didn't have time for any of us. Well - " she smiled a little. "Not at first, anyway. Scorpius started hanging around with us after a bit, but I think that had more to do with Orchid than anything else."

"What?" Rose stared at Nina. "Scorpius liked her?"

"Yeah. This was before she started going out with Torrance, of course." Her smile broadened. "You know that's why he joined the Quidditch team in second year? Because he figured it would impress Orchid. It didn't work, though."

"So… what happened?"

Nina shrugged. "He worked up the courage to tell her how he felt, after a while. She didn't feel the same way. Then Torrance asked her out to Hogsmeade in third year, and the rest is history." She looked at Rose, who had turned pale. "Oh, come on, Rose, don't look so horrified. It was just a crush. Scorpius hates it when any of us bring it up now – he always says he can't believe he was so mad about her." She cocked her head. "Rose?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Rose waved a hand, climbing off the bed again and walking as far as the window. Then, unable to help herself, she turned back to Nina. "So what about Diana Turpin, last year?"

"What about her?"

"Was Scorpius mad about her, too?"

Nina considered for a moment, then shook her head decisively. "No. I'm sure he liked her, a little, but – it was never the same as he felt about Orchid." She paused. "Jem does have a theory…"

"What? What's his theory?"

"I'm not sure if it's wise to tell you. Your reaction to all this is scaring me a little." Nina frowned at Rose.

"Nina."

"Fine, fine." Nina raised her hands in surrender. "Jem is convinced that Scorpius only went out with Diana to make Orchid jealous. Though I don't believe that for a second. Scorpius got over Orchid ages ago." She caught Rose's glance. "I mean it, Rose, he did. Look, I know it's weird after what she did to your cousin and all that, but this was a long time before all that and…"

"Yeah," Rose said quietly. "Of course."

An insistent tapping on the window, which Rose had initially taken to be a tree-branch tossed against the house by the wind, caused both of them to turn, and Nina gasped. "That's my owl! How did he get through this storm?" Rushing to the window, she opened it, sending a gust of cold, damp air sweeping through the room, and ushered the bedraggled owl inside, untying the roll of soggy parchment attached to his leg.

"What is it?" Rose said, after Nina had been staring at the parchment for a solid minute. "Bad news?"

Nina looked up at her, a little dazed. "Jem's father is dead."

---

Albus looked up as James trooped in the back door, his shoes tracking mud all over the linoleum floor of the kitchen. His skin was beaded with droplets of rain, and his jacket stuck to him. He shook his hair out like a wet dog, splashing Albus in the process.

"Do you mind, James?"

"Not in the mood, Al," James growled, shutting the door behind him and kicking off his shoes.

"You've been traipsing all over Godric's Hollow in this weather?" Albus said sympathetically.

"Yeah, and no luck," his brother replied bitterly. "Not an Alderton that was ever heard of. I've been watching the house all day. The lights are off, the doors and windows sealed closed… it looks like no one's gone near the place in weeks. But that's probably just what they want people to think." With a groan of frustration, he dropped into the nearest chair, threading his fingers through his hair. "It's so much easier to keep tabs on people in school – with the Map and everything…"

"And just how many people do you keep tabs on in school, James?" Albus said, bemused.

"Oh, relax, Al. Just the usual suspects. Nott, and Ottelby, and Bole…" James groaned again.

"Have some tea." Albus waved his wand at the pot in the centre of the table to heat it up, then summoned a cup and filled it quickly, setting it before James. "It'll calm you down a bit."

"Not likely," James said, but he drank the tea all the same, shivering a little as he did so. With a sigh, Albus gave his wand another flick. A steady stream of hot air began to blow at them from above, and James looked at him gratefully.

"What would you do without me?" Albus said lightly.

"I honestly don't know. Where is everyone, anyway?"

"Mum and Dad are still at work, and Lily's in her room."

"She always is, these days," James muttered.

Albus watched his brother for a moment, over his own cup of tea, then said, "Did you mean all of that? What you said to Dad earlier?"

James swallowed. "Most of it. But… I might've gone a little too far."

"Yeah, you tend to do that." Albus spoke without thinking, and his brother did not reply for a moment. Instead, he set down his empty cup, and ran a hand over his jaw contemplatively. Finally, he looked up at Albus again reluctantly.

"I know it was a month ago…"

Albus started to shake his head. "James, I was just joking. We don't have to talk about this."

"Yes, we do." Resolute, his brother went on, "I could have lost you that day, Al. I almost did. And after saying all those things to you - "

"James, you don't need to - "

"Merlin's sake, Al, will you stop interrupting and let me apologise?" James said impatiently, then he sighed. "Look, I'm going to try a bit harder from now on. I'm going to try not to be such a selfish git the whole time. "

"You're not…"

"What did I say about interrupting, Al? I should have noticed that you were upset about me and Summer, and I didn't. I should have…" James stopped, and shook his head. "But you never told me, Albus. You never told me any of this stuff that you were feeling. Why not?"

Albus blinked at him. "Well, you're not really a 'talk about your feelings' kind of bloke, James."

"That doesn't matter. You're my brother. When something's bothering you, you're meant to tell me, and then I can sort it out."

"You can't sort out everything, James," Albus murmured.

"I can try," James said, the same fierce look entering his eyes that Albus had seen their mother take on earlier: the fighting look. "But you've got to help me, Al."

Albus wasn't sure whether his brother was just talking about them anymore, or something bigger. To whichever it was, he nodded, and stretched out his hand to shake his brother's. "All right. I'll try."

---

"Will your friend be all right?" Hermione asked worriedly, once the door to their house had slammed shut behind Rose's father and Nina. "On such a rough night…"

"She'll be fine," Rose said hollowly, from where she sat on the couch in the sitting room, staring unseeingly at the mantelpiece. "Dad'll show her where she can catch the Knight Bus to Jeremy's house. I suppose the funeral will be tomorrow, or the day after."

"And are you all right?" Her mother squeezed onto the couch beside her, putting an arm about her shoulders.

"Of course," Rose said at once. "It has nothing to do with me."

"Yes, it does," her mother said gently. "You know this boy, don't you?"

"Not very well."

"But he's a good friend of Nina's, isn't he?"

"Yeah." And Scorpius's, too. Rose's stomach dropped as she imagined how he must be reacting to the news, and then, feeling her mother's gaze upon her, she felt inexplicably guilty. No secrets.

"I'll make us some tea," Hermione said after a moment, rising. She took a few steps towards the kitchen door, then cast an annoyed glance at the malfunctioning wireless on the table in the corner. "This dratted storm. No chance of us hearing the news, now."

"You can read the Prophet," Rose said wearily. "Why is it so important?"

Her mother did not reply as she moved into the kitchen, and the sound of clinking cups and saucers commenced. Rose listened, her mind still on Nina's stricken face as she had received the letter, and noticed, absentmindedly, that the force of rain pattering against the windows had lessened somewhat. A moment later, when the wireless emitted a high-pitched hum which then transformed into the sound of her uncle's voice on the W.W.N., Rose was mildly surprised.

"Mum," she called half-heartedly, as Percy Weasley's voice filled the room. "Our reception's come back."

Her mother rushed into the room, appearing to have abandoned the tea. "The Minister's address!" She planted herself in the armchair, and they both listened.

"… after much debate in the Wizengamot regarding this pressing issue, I have come to a decision…"

"We've missed the start of it," Rose said, disappointed, but her mother pressed a finger to her lips.

"… which has been echoed by many of my colleagues."

"Not by me," Hermione interjected furiously.

"Our priority has been to protect the people of Britain, Muggles and wizardkind alike. The Azkaban Act is in accordance with this priority, and I hope, when it is put into practice, will ensure not only the safety and wellbeing of our nation, but the ongoing secrecy of our magical community."

"The Azkaban Act?" Rose repeated, her eyes meeting her mother's. She heard her uncle's voice falter a fraction as he went on,

"I understand, given our country's history with these creatures, that there will be some reluctance in meeting with the conditions of this Act, but I can assure you that proper measures will be employed to restrain their movement and multiplication. I must also emphasise - " His voice was distorted as the connection began to fizzle out again, replaced by crackling once more.

"Dementors?" Rose leapt to her feet, a hand over her mouth. "He's going to reguard Azkaban with Dementors?"

Her mother nodded, a slow, grim nod. "I didn't think he'd announce it so soon."

"You knew about it?" she exclaimed.

"Of course I knew about it, Rosie," Hermione said impatiently. "It's been all the talk of the Ministry for the past few months."

"But you - "

"I voted against it, of course. So did your uncle Harry, and a few others." Hermione's face was white, even to her lips. "But the truth is, Rosie, that when people are frightened, they'll do anything to feel safe again."

"Safe? How can we feel safe with Dementors?" Rose demanded.

"I agree with you," her mother said. "But other people don't. With Astoria Malfoy being broken out, and then Antonin Dolohov last month… two breakouts in the space of a few months, it's bound to produce some panic. I can understand - " She sighed. " – I can understand, while I don't agree, why some might feel this is the only option. Why Percy feels it's the only option for him."

"How can you say that?" Rose stared at her. "Can't you do something?"

Hermione's face screwed up for a moment, as though she would very much like to snap at her daughter, but then she seemed to collect herself. "Rosie, have you ever seen a Dementor?"

"No," Rose said shortly.

"I have." Her mother looked at her intently. "And they are, without a doubt, the most terrifying, powerful, loathsome, evil creatures I have ever come across. If I had my way, they wouldn't be welcomed anywhere in the world, let alone Azkaban." She pursed her lips. "But I don't have the power to stop this Act from becoming law, not once the Wizengamot has voted in favour of it." After a pause, she frowned deeply. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Rose said eagerly. "What can you do?"

Her mother looked at her, then shook her head. "Never mind." Rising from her armchair, "I'd better get that tea. But before I do - Rose, I have something else to discuss with you."

"What?"

Hermione put both hands on the back of the chair, and hesitated for a moment. "I'm going to pay Teddy and Victoire a visit tomorrow morning, when the storm's cleared up."

"All right," Rose said slowly.

"I want you to come with me."

Rose considered for a moment. Then it hit her, and she swallowed hard. "You don't mean - "

"Teddy has the right to know what happened to his grandmother," Hermione said, very gently.

"He knows already. You told him, didn't you?" The world was starting to spin around Rose now, and she felt a kind of light-headed panic. "At Christmas, after I told you and Dad."

"He deserves to hear it from you." Her mother continued to regard her, sympathy in her brown eyes. "The whole story, Rosie."

"I can't." Rose's voice broke, her vision blurring with tears. She hung her head, then shook it once, twice, her hair falling over her eyes. "I can't – Mum, you can't make me…"

"That's right; I can't." Her mother inclined her head. "But you owe that much to him, Rosie. You owe it to yourself, too."

---

Scorpius had held it together for most of the funeral, but now, as the officiant concluded the ceremony and the sound of sobbing increased around him tenfold, he could feel his throat seizing up. Across from him, Jem was being held by his mother and two sisters, their arms clutching his skinny frame as though it were the only thing keeping them upright.

Though last night's storm had blown itself out at this stage, its effects could be seen all around them in the graveyard at Upper Flagley; a few trees bordering the church had been knocked down by the wind, causing damage to a section of the old stone wall. Even a couple of the older headstones had toppled over. The one by Jem's father's grave stood intact, of course, its freshly hewn inscription reading: Jeremy Sharpwood, Sr., Beloved Father and Husband.

It looked just like any other headstone, which, of course, was the intention; this was, after all, a Muggle graveyard, and for all intents and purposes, a Muggle ceremony. Accordingly, the mourners were all clad in plain black clothes in case of prying eyes, and the only indication of anything out of the ordinary was the long, dark cloak that had been draped over the coffin, now disappearing into the earth.

One last sob was wrenched from the throat of Jem's mother, who then buried her face in her son's shoulder. Carlos Santini, who was standing beside Scorpius, glanced at them and then lowered his eyes. He seemed to have laid aside their argument on the train for the moment. Nina, on Scorpius's other side, gave him a nudge.

"What?" he murmured, as the knot of mourners began to disperse from around the grave.

Nina lowered her voice. "Do you see what I see?"

Scorpius followed her gaze towards the church door, which stood slightly open. There was a flicker of movement beside it, dim through the rain, and he caught sight of a figure in black.

"We're not alone," Nina said quietly.

"It's probably just the church warden, or something," Scorpius said dismissively, but then the figure moved again, and he blinked. "That's not - "

"Malfoy, Meyer," Santini interrupted, coming between them. "They're heading back to the house now. Want to get a Portkey together?"

"OK," Nina said distractedly, and Scorpius nodded, too. Carlos Santini moved past them, jerking his head as an indication for them to follow. When they looked again at the church door, the figure was gone.

---

Rose raised her hand to knock, then paused, looking to her mother. "Shouldn't I – shouldn't we…"

"Just knock, Rosie," Hermione said, gently but firmly. "Victoire and Teddy don't bite. You've known them for years."

"I – I know." She cast a desperate glance around, at the cliffs surrounding Shell Cottage, the grey, roiling sea far beneath, and the storm-wracked beaches. "I just..."

Her mother pressed forward, knocking on the door herself, and then drew Rose into a quick embrace. "Be brave, Rosie. I know you can."

"You're not coming in?" She looked at her mother, wide-eyed. "But you said…"

"This is something you have to do for yourself." Hermione regarded her earnestly.

"But - "

"It's not going to be easy. I think you know that already. Teddy's going to be upset, and he might say things that'll make you angry." Her mother leaned forward urgently. "But you can't lose your temper, Rosie. You've got to be understanding. Let him lead the way."

Then she was stepping away from the bounds of the cottage, twirling on the spot and Disapparating just as the door opened before Rose.

Victoire Weasley's face was paler than it ordinarily was, though it was difficult to tell with her ivory complexion, and even as she welcomed her cousin inside, shutting the door behind them and leading her to the sitting room, Rose could sense her uncertainty.

"Aunt Hermione sent us an owl last night," Victoire said hesitantly. "I was surprised that it got here in the storm. It was awful, wasn't it? The – er – the storm, I mean."

"Yes, awful," Rose said, just as uncertainly. As they entered the sitting room and she caught sight of Teddy in a chair by the window, something within her recoiled. Drawing in a deep breath, she kept her feet moving, remembering her mother's words. Be brave.

"Good to see you, Rose," Teddy said quietly as she approached. With a glance at Victoire, "Are you staying?"

"I actually have to send a letter," Victoire said quickly, looking apologetically at Rose. "But I can stay if you want me to…"

"That's fine," Rose said, and Teddy made a noise of assent. Once they were alone, he angled himself towards Rose, nodding towards the rocking chair nearby.

"Sit there, if you want."

Rose complied, pressing her sweaty hands together, and crossed her legs, then uncrossed them again. She fixed her gaze on Teddy, who was gazing out the window at the sea. His hair was black today, cropped short to his scalp, and his features appeared rather longer than usual, more drawn.

"I think I know what this is about," he said slowly.

"You do?" Rose checked herself, remembering her mother's warning. "I mean, yes, Mum might have given you some hint. I'm here to tell you about - " She swallowed. "About Andromeda."

Teddy turned his gaze on her. "You were there when it happened, weren't you? When she died." He stopped, frowning deeply. "I didn't believe it at first when I heard. I didn't believe that you'd – that you'd known all that time, through the wake and the funeral, and you hadn't said a word to anyone. To me."

"I thought I'd put you in danger," Rose began to explain, her words tripping over each other. "I thought that if I said anything, and they somehow knew that I had talked, I might be responsible for more people getting hurt."

"Responsible?" Teddy's eyes were dark today, too, she noticed for the first time. She had never seen them as dark before. "So you feel responsible for my grandmother's death?"

Rose looked down, shifting her feet on the carpet. "Well, yes; I was there, and so I do feel – er – responsible in that way…"

"Tell me how it happened," Teddy interrupted. His hands were clasped in his lap, twisting tighter as he spoke. "Tell me everything."

So Rose did. At least, she gave him the version of events that she had given her parents, which omitted Scorpius where possible, and put James in his place. James himself had not objected to this; rather, he had encouraged it, Rose guessed because it elevated him to a rather higher position of significance in the narrative than he had occupied in reality.

Teddy listened, mostly in silence, with the occasional muttered exclamation or mere exhalation, neither of which ever seemed to be for her ears. He did not often meet her gaze throughout the tale, looking instead out to sea, and when she had finished, almost choking on her words, Rose saw why. His eyes were swimming with tears as he turned to look at her, and uttered the words she had most dreaded to hear.

"You could have done more."

Rose stared at him. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She had told herself the very same thing for months on end, but somehow, it was different hearing it from someone else's lips. And hearing it from Teddy's lips… it crushed her, squeezing at her heart and stealing her breath. Teddy continued to stare at her.

"I tried to get her away," Rose said hoarsely. "But it was too late – Zabini had already arrived…"

"Because you wasted time questioning her!" Teddy exclaimed. "You were trying to get answers out of her, instead of getting her to safety – getting her away from that lunatic."

"I didn't know Zabini was on his way," Rose snapped. Already, she could feel her temper rising, despite her mother's caution. "How could I have? I did my best to keep Andromeda safe."

"No, you didn't." Teddy ran a hand through his hair, which was darkening into a deeper, inky black. "That's what I'm trying to say to you. You didn't do enough to keep her safe. You had your own agenda, and that was more important to you: admit it."

"You and Andromeda were always family to me," she replied hotly. "Long before you married Victoire, you were both family. Do you really think I would have just let her die if I'd had a choice?"

"You could have stopped Zabini," Teddy said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Couldn't you? You could have tried."

"I told you - " Rose gulped, and suddenly the words did not seem to be coming out. She tried, then tried again, and at last, "I told you that he threw me to the wall - "

"After he had killed her," Teddy supplied, still very quiet. He tilted his head at her. "But what about before? You had your wand, didn't you?"

"Zabini is a former Death Eater," Rose said, her voice shaking a little now. "He's incredibly powerful, and an Animagus beside that…"

Teddy rose from his chair, shaking his head in disbelief, and took a few trembling paces around the room. Rose watched him, wrestling between guilt and sympathy and anger. Anger won out, as it had done before. "Fine," she said. "So maybe I didn't do as much as I could have. But can you blame me for questioning Andromeda when she was the one who put my mother's life in danger?"

"She had no choice!" He swung back to her, his eyes flashing fire. "They were threatening her; she thought she was protecting me!"

"Who was threatening her, exactly?" Rose demanded. "Oh, that's right: Geoffrey Alderton. Your supposed best friend. So isn't it your fault for trusting him?"

As soon as the bitter words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. They seemed to break Teddy utterly. His anger – or whatever was left of it – faded out of his eyes, and his face, pale even to his lips, crumpled as he collapsed back into his chair, covering it with his hands. His hair was lightening in colour to a mousy brown. Rose watched all the while, a hand over her mouth. "Teddy," she said feebly. "Teddy, I'm sorry… that's not what I meant to say…"

"Get out," he said through his fingers, his voice muffled. "Get out."

Her throat dry, still processing what she had just said, Rose backed to the doorway and slid through. Victoire was waiting in the corridor. "I heard raised voices," her cousin began, and then she looked past Rose through the doorway, to where Teddy sat, doubled over in grief. Something in her face hardened, and rather than going to comfort him, she turned and grabbed Rose's arm, steering her further away from the door.

"I knew this was a bad idea," she stormed as they passed through the kitchen and out towards the front door. "I knew it. He's been doing so well over the past few months, but then - " She let go of Rose's arm, throwing her hands up in the air, and fixed her cousin with a glare. "Your mother had to interfere."

"She wanted Teddy to know the truth," Rose defended, but Victoire made a scornful noise.

"The truth? He already knows the truth: his grandmother is dead, and I'm the only family he has left in the world."

Rose hung her head. "I'm sorry," she muttered, but Victoire shook her head, bringing her to a halt before the front door of the cottage.

"What good is that now? Look, I don't know what you said to him - " She held up her hands as Rose opened her mouth, " – and I don't want to know. But if you were mixed up in what happened to Andromeda, then I'd advise you, Rose, to be very careful from now on. This isn't a game. I know how tempting it must be to get involved in these things when you hear all your parents' stories, but you'd do best to follow their example now. They've settled down, and so should you."

Something inside Rose tightened at her cousin's words, so similar to those she had spoken to Hugo once, but she could not bring herself to say anything in response. Victoire gazed at her for a moment more, her nostrils slightly flared in anger, and then she gestured to the door. "You should go. Let your mother know that I won't take kindly to either of you coming and upsetting Teddy like this again."

Rose lingered outside the cottage door for a moment, once it had closed behind her. The wind had picked up again, stiff with sea salt, and the spray from the surf crashing far below touched her face. So, she thought grimly, That went well.

---

The trees by the square in Charing Cross were bent low, their branches and boughs dripping. Scorpius looked out from his window at the Muggles hurrying to and fro on the pavement, and felt very glad that he was indoors. One woman's umbrella turned inside out, and she stopped, shaking it furiously and getting utterly soaked in the process. Another was nearly sent sprawling across the rails outside one of the townhouses by a fresh squall of wind.

He wouldn't be surprised, at this rate, if they had another storm tonight. At least it stayed dry for the funeral. After the reception, he had said a farewell to Jem and his family and headed home, exhausted. His father being at work, Scorpius had been free to make straight for his room and collapse on his bed, staring up at his enchanted ceiling, which depicted the night sky. The sounds of the city wafted in from his window, and he had fallen asleep in his clothes for some time until the sound of rain woke him.

Now, blinking blearily out the window, Scorpius was half-contemplating returning to bed when he caught sight of a figure on the pavement directly outside the townhouse.

Whoever it was had their hood up, and it was impossible to make out any distinguishable features. But what had caught Scorpius's attention was that amid the crowd of harried Muggles on the street, this person stood still – utterly still. As though they were waiting for something.

Or someone.

Scorpius didn't stop to think, like his father undoubtedly would have counselled him to do. He dashed down the stairs, suddenly wide awake, opened the door and burst outside. The rain saturated him within seconds, and a man's umbrella knocked into him, hard, but he barely noticed, because the figure was before him now, lowering their hood.

It was not his mother, as he had been expecting – as he had been hoping. No, it was Orchid Ottelby, in a threadbare sweatshirt and jeans, her hair in rat's tails, and a nasty cut slicing across her cheek. She was panting hard, as though she had been running.

"It was you earlier," Scorpius said, staring at her as the rain sluiced down his back, icy cold through his thin Muggle clothes. "At the funeral."

"I need your help," she replied urgently, casting a glance around her. "They're after me."

He didn't move. Another hurrying Muggle knocked into him, and still he stayed where he was, gaze fixed on Orchid. "Who? Who's after you?"

"Hit-wizards," Orchid said, in as low a voice as she could manage. "They're after me." Her green eyes were desperate, and they reminded him – though they shouldn't have – of his mother. She should be here, she should be the one asking for his help. "Scorpius - please. I don't want to get caught. Don't let them lock me up."

Scorpius hesitated for a moment more, his gaze flickering over the crowded square around them, and then he nodded, beckoning Orchid inside the house. He was going to regret this, of course. He knew that quite well, but still he followed Orchid inside, steering her with a hand on the small of her back as he shut the door behind them.

"Is your father here?" she asked once they were seated in the kitchen, steaming cups of tea before them.

"He's working late." Scorpius noticed that Orchid's eyes ringed with shadows; she looked as though she had not slept in days. He set down his own cup. "So what happened?"

Orchid looked down. "I shouldn't have gone to the funeral. It was stupid, but I – I wanted to pay my respects." Glancing at Scorpius, she went on, "On my way out of the graveyard, a Muggle must have spotted me. They've put mine and Torrance's faces on the wanted list, too, you see. Anyway, I'd Apparated back to the Leaky Cauldron where they were waiting for me. The hit-wizards. So there was a bit of a scuffle, and I came out of it rather the worse…" She pointed to the cut on her face, "And then I ran. Just ran, hood up, back into Muggle London. Your place was the closest, and it was the first I thought of."

"Do you think any of them recognised you? The Muggles you passed?" Scorpius looked at her closely.

Orchid shook her head. "I had my hood up, and I was going so fast that I don't think any of them had time to notice me."

"Let's hope." Scorpius pushed back from his chair, went to the sink and poured out the rest of his tea, having suddenly lost his appetite. "And where's Torrance in all this?"

"That's… complicated."

"Things always seem to be, with you two."

She took a moment to reply. "He and I… had a falling out, of sorts. This morning."

"Great timing."

"He didn't think it was a good idea to go to the funeral. I told him I was going anyway, that Jem's our friend, that I was tired of hiding out…" Orchid sighed. "He didn't take it very well. I was meant to meet him back in Knockturn Alley, but the place is probably crawling with hit-wizards now. I hope he's gotten out safely."

"If I know Torrance at all, I'm sure he has." Scorpius crossed the kitchen, but remained standing behind his chair. Orchid watched him, a little warily, as he took his wand out of his pocket, but he ignored her, dragging his chair a little closer to hers and pointing to the cut on her cheek. "Episkey."

The angry redness of the cut faded, and now it was just a pink scar. He tucked his wand away again while Orchid touched her face gingerly. "I've never been great at Healing spells," he confessed, "But that cut was shallow enough."

She did not meet his gaze as she muttered, "Thank you." The rain tapped at the windows of the kitchen from outside as though it were a lonely stranger trying to get in.

"Don't thank me." Scorpius rested his elbows on his knees. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

Orchid drew in a deep breath, and looked up at him. "I need to stay here for the night, until the search has moved away from London." He nodded. "I need you not to tell anyone I'm here." After the slightest hesitation, he nodded again. "And, if the hit-wizards come to the house looking for me… I need you to lie. Say you haven't seen me for months."

"Which is pretty close to the truth." Scorpius regarded her shrewdly. He had not nodded a third time. "So did you and Torrance really do that to Albus Potter?"

Orchid held his gaze, even as her green eyes shuttered. "What do you think?"

"I think," Scorpius said measuredly, "that whoever attacked him must have been very stupid to expose themselves like that, and very brutal. And as far as I know, you and Torrance are neither of those things. But still - " He held up a hand as Orchid opened her mouth to speak, "I don't know that for sure. Do you really expect me to lie on your behalf when I don't have the real story?"

"Scorpius…"

"I was there, Orchid." His voice had a new edge to it. "I saw the blood, I saw what was used on Potter. One of the most savage curses in existence. He would have bled out in a matter of minutes if we hadn't found him."

"We?" she repeated, quietly, and Scorpius inwardly kicked himself for his slip of the tongue. He had meant to keep Rose out of this - but if he didn't tell Orchid the full truth, how could he expect her to extend him the same courtesy?

"Weasley and I." Scorpius kept his features impassive, even as Orchid's eyes widened a fraction. "I was with her when we found him. She was… very badly affected."

"I can imagine." Orchid adjusted her position in her seat, and he waited for her to question him about Rose, about what was going on between them, but she didn't. Curling her hands around her cup of tea, she said, more quietly, "And I can only imagine how you must feel about me asking for your help when I was involved in something like that. And I was involved." Her eyes met his once more, steadily. "But Torrance and I weren't the ones who attacked Albus."

"So who did?"

Orchid drained her cup of tea and put it down on the table. "Penny. Penny Alderton."

Scorpius frowned. "Who?" Then he remembered, and something within him plummeted. "Geoffrey Alderton's sister."

"She wanted to keep her brother safe, by doing his business in the castle for him." Orchid clicked her tongue. "That included attacking Tony Mason after the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match a few months ago, and when Albus Potter found out who was responsible for that little incident…" She paused. "It was Penny's job to eliminate him as a threat. On her brother's orders."

After a moment, Scorpius said quietly, "Where did you and Torrance stand in all of this?"

"We knew," Orchid said, nodding her head slowly. "We knew what she was planning to do. We didn't realise it'd be quite so… savage."

"And when you left the castle, you took the blame onto yourselves." Scorpius bit his lip. "But it doesn't make sense. She's a Gryffindor – a friend of Weasley's, if I'm not mistaken. Where would she have found out how to use the Sectumsempra Curse? Who could have taught her it?"

"Her brother, maybe." Orchid shrugged her shoulders. "Or her father, when he was alive. Rufus Alderton was a… wizard of many talents." Her eyes locked onto Scorpius's. "But you know that, of course."

Her words sent a shard of icy cold through Scorpius. He almost flinched at the force of it, and found himself straightening up and rising from the table, taking Orchid's cup in hand. "I'm not happy about this," he said frankly. "You staying here, after what you were responsible for…" Catching her look, "Even if it was only partially responsible. But you're my friend, Orchid, and we've been through a lot together. So, for the sake of old times…"

Orchid's voice shook a little as she thanked him. He could see the relief glimmering in her eyes; perhaps she had genuinely thought that he would turf her out after she told him the truth about what she and Torrance had been involved in. But Scorpius couldn't have done that, not when all he kept seeing was his mother, desperate and hunted, and someone doing the same thing for her, somewhere. Giving her their roof for the night.

"I'll lie for you," he found himself saying to Orchid. "If it comes down to it. Stay in the guest room upstairs tonight, and I'll make sure my father doesn't come across you." He paused. "But I want you gone in the morning, Orchid, and – I don't want any more to do with this. Any of it."

She nodded mutely, and he didn't object as she wrapped him in a brief hug. Her scent washed over him, of damp and sweat and citrus. "Thank you, Scorpius. I won't forget this."

---

Rose had curled up in bed when she returned home from her visit to Shell Cottage, and spent much of the succeeding day there. Cocooned in blankets and listening to the sound of the sea outside her window, she had tried to calm herself, but Victoire's words kept coming back to her, making her want to moan and cover her head.

This isn't a game… they've settled down, and so should you.

Her father came in occasionally to make sure she was all right as the day wore on, and Rose could see the worry lines in his brow as he regarded her. She did not know how much her mother had told him about their plan to visit Teddy and Victoire, but evidently he knew better than to ask Rose how it had gone. The same went for Hugo, who stayed away from her room altogether.

She wished her mother was at home, so that she could talk to her about it. She would understand. But she would be at the Ministry until late. Your mother had to interfere. Was that really how Victoire thought of her aunt? As someone who interfered?

Teddy's words had cut even deeper, making Rose positively writhe in distress as she recalled them, beating a relentless tattoo against her mind. You could have done more. You could have done more. You could have done more.

And as for what Rose herself had said, in the heat of her anger: bitter, unjust words that she could never take back… well, she had no way to stop those from bubbling to the surface of her mind, assailing her just when she thought she was safe, never granting her a moment's peace…

The sound of voices downstairs roused her at some time in the late afternoon, and she emerged from her room, blinking in the sudden light, to find James sitting in the kitchen with her father and Hugo.

"Ah, Rose," her cousin said when he saw her, his brown eyes gentle. "I hear you've had a rough day."

"That doesn't quite sum it up," she replied, taking a seat and resting her chin on her hands. "What are you doing here?"

James exchanged a look with her father, and then said cautiously, "I may have found a lead on Penny's whereabouts."

"Let the record show that I do not approve of this," Ron said loudly. "Your dad isn't happy with you going poking around to look for the Aldertons, James, and I'm not either." Then, in a quieter voice, with a slight wink, "But since I'm off to the Ministry now to meet my wife, I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear this conversation."

James winked right back at his uncle. "Understood."

"And Rose has been through a lot today," Ron continued, more seriously, with a glance at his daughter. "So don't get her involved…"

"Dad…"

"Don't get her needlessly involved," Ron amended. Then, with a ruffle of Hugo's hair, "As for you, son, you're coming with me."

To Rose's surprise, Hugo did not protest. He simply grinned at Rose and James and whispered, "Good luck."

As soon as they were alone, Rose turned back to James eagerly. "So?"

"I've been combing Godric's Hollow for the past few days," he began, "looking for any clue about where the Aldertons have gone, but nothing turned up until this afternoon. I went to look at their house again, and saw that one of the trees in their garden was blown over in the storm last night. The bark had split in one section of the trunk, and inside I found – this." Rooting in his pockets, he held up a rusty key. "Someone left it there for safe-keeping. A spare."

"What does it lead to?" Rose said, squinting at it.

"Oh, coz," James said, sighing. "I thought you'd figure that one out." He handed the key to her for closer inspection. "See the design?"

Rose squinted, and discerned what looked faintly like the head of a boar carved into the metal of the key, barely discernible beneath the rust. She drew a sharp breath. "The Hog's Head."

"Correct." Her cousin took back the key, pocketing it once more. "The Aldertons keep a room there, it seems. Explains a lot."

"So what are we waiting for?" Rose stared at him. "Why didn't you go straight away?"

For the first time, James looked uncertain. "The Marauder's Map doesn't show the village, so I don't know where in the Hog's Head Penny might be."

"So there's no way of pinpointing where she is," Rose said.

"I wouldn't say that," James said slowly. At her confused look, "You're her friend, Rose. If anyone can draw her out of hiding, it's you."

"You want me to trap her?" Rose shook her head, planting her hands on the surface of the table. "It won't work, anyway. Penny and I have never been that close."

"That doesn't matter," James said. "All you need to do is make her think that she's safe, that she can trust you to keep her secret."

"It won't work," Rose said again, flatly. "She ran from me in King's Cross, James. She's not about to trust me."

"You were chasing her," her cousin pointed out. "Maybe if you take a more diplomatic approach this time." He gave a shrug. "Besides, if Penny really was Imperiused when she attacked your boyfriend, then what has she got to worry about? With wand records, the Wizengamot can prove that."

"She's obviously hiding for a reason," Rose countered.

"No doubt to protect her brother." James paused again, then his expression cleared. "So if you can make her think that her brother is in danger, maybe that will draw her out."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

---

An hour or so later, Rose was shuffling along the main street of Hogsmeade with her cousin by her side, clad in a hooded cloak. "I don't even want to know where you got Polyjuice Potion at such short notice," she muttered to him as they walked, skirting around the puddles and dead branches. "Professor Nott has had enough things stolen from his stores this year…"

She could sense that James smiled, though his face was not visible beneath the hood. "It wasn't Nott's. I took some from my dad's secret store in the Auror Offices, a few weeks back. Thought it might come in handy." Cheerfully, "He'll kill me when he finds out."

"I don't blame him," Rose said, just as they turned up the side-street and came in view of the Hog's Head. It was looking rather the worse for wear from last night's storm: the sign had been torn from its perch above the door and lay at the other end of the street, where no one had bothered to retrieve it yet, and several tiles were missing from the roof.

"Here should be about right," James said quietly, as they came level with the entrance, and Rose, swallowing, nodded. "Ready?"

"Of course." Producing her wand, she grasped James's shoulder and shoved him forward in front of her, through the door of the Hog's Head. Raising her voice, "I've found him! I've found Geoffrey Alderton!"

The few patrons in the inn barely looked up from their drinks, but the barman looked vaguely interested. Rose gave her cousin another shove, and yanked down his hood with a flourish.

James was wearing the face of Geoffrey Alderton, taken from a brew of Polyjuice Potion that they had mixed with one of the wizard's hairs, that they had found in the house back in Godric's Hollow. He played his part well, gazing around the inn with a combination of distaste and apprehension as Rose held a wand to his temple.

"I've found Geoffrey Alderton!" she repeated loudly. "We need an Auror here, now!"

Someone coughed. The barman, with a shrug of his shoulders, went back to wiping a glass, and Rose was about to repeat herself when a door slammed behind the bar, and she was knocked off her feet, slamming her head against the hard floor. She heard James exclaim, and the world started to spin around her, black spots dancing across her vision as her head throbbed. Then a face was looming above hers, close. Angry. Penny.

"Why have you been following me?" she demanded, shoving her wand at Rose.

"I… had to find out…" Rose mumbled. She wasn't sure if Penny heard her, or if she had even made a sound.

"Penny." That was James, at her assailant's side. "We shouldn't make a scene. Let's just take this Weasley girl and find out what she knows."

Penny breathed out through her nose, looking at the wizard she supposed to be her brother for a moment. Rose, even in her half-conscious state, felt herself tense up with anticipation, but then Penny simply nodded. "You're right, Geoff. Let's bring her upstairs."

Arms seized her (she shot James a glare, and he looked at her apologetically) and she was hauled past the bar and through the door Penny had emerged from. Then came a series of steep steps, jolting to Rose's poor dizzy head, and then at last they were on even ground again, breathing in the dank air of the inn's upper level. James produced the key and unlocked the door Penny came halted outside, and they stepped into a dingy room.

Penny forced Rose to her feet, wand still pointed at her. "Why did you chase me at King's Cross?"

Rose had recovered enough to make a coherent response, or at least she hoped she had. "I had to ask you a few questions."

"What about?" Penny stared at her, putting a hand on James's arm. "Why won't you leave me and my brother alone?"

"I know what you did." Rose closed her eyes briefly against the pain, putting a hand to her head. "You attacked Tony Mason. Merlin, Penny, what's happened to you?"

"I had no choice," Penny said, after a moment's hesitation. For the first time, Rose noticed that she was a lot paler, and seemed to have lost a good deal of weight since she had seen her last.

"Do you know that I defended you?" Rose inched forward, her eyes fully open now again, regarding Penny. "I said you must have been Imperiused. I said you couldn't have possibly cast an Unforgivable like that unless you were forced into it. But now…" She gave a grim little smile. "Now I'm not so sure."

"You don't know anything, Rose." Penny's voice was harsh. "Don't pretend you understand what I've been through. What Geoff's been through."

Rose laughed a little. "Oh, I'm not going to."

"Then why are you here? To threaten to lock Geoff up? Get me to confess to something you think I did?" Penny smiled a little. It was not a nice smile. "I have news for you, Rose. You're outnumbered. Geoffrey, deal with her."

James did not move. Penny turned to face him fully. "Geoff?" Then she looked at Rose, then at him again, and something she saw in his eyes made the colour drain from her face. "You're not my brother."

"No, I'm not," James agreed, a little apologetically. "I'm afraid you're the one who's outnumbered, Penny."

Her lips were forming the words of a hex aimed at Rose when he disarmed her, catching her wand neatly in his hand. Penny's eyes were wide now, and she began to back towards the window, but Rose advanced towards her, taking hold of her arms.

"You tricked me," Penny said, sagging in her grip, and she sounded so vulnerable all of a sudden, even tearful. Rose tried to ignore it, reminding herself that it was probably a manipulation anyway.

"We had to." Rose glanced at James, then at her charge. "Like I said, I need to ask you some questions."

"Why should I tell you anything?" Penny demanded. "If you're just going to turn me in to the Aurors after this?"

"We'll only have to do that if you've got something to be guilty about." Rose looked at her closely. "Have you, Penny?"

"I'm not talking with him there," Penny said firmly, jerking her head to James. "Whoever he is."

James and Rose exchanged a glance, and then the former raised his hands. "Well, I'll leave you two ladies to it, then." To Rose, "I'll be outside."

"Don't get spotted," she said in response, and he nodded as he left the room, closing the door behind them.

"Why don't we sit?" Rose said, after a moment's silence. She relaxed her grip on Penny's arms, but the girl shook her head.

"I'd prefer to stand, thanks." She was glaring at Rose.

"It's just as well." Rose eyed the nearest chair dubiously. "That doesn't look like it'd take anyone's weight, even yours."

"Just get on with it," Penny said sharply. Surprised, Rose glanced at her, then took a step away from Penny, making sure she kept her back to the window.

"Why did you run away in King's Cross?"

"I saw the way you were looking at me in the compartment. And on the platform in Hogsmeade, when you were with him. I figured you had caught onto something – gotten the wrong idea."

"By him, do you mean Tony?" Rose said coldly. "Tony Mason, who you attacked?"

Penny dropped her gaze. "It's not what you think."

"Oh? Then what is it? What happened?"

"Orchid and Torrance wanted me to use an Unforgivable on Tony Mason. To… prove myself to them." Penny swallowed. "But I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I tried… I practised on small animals, beforehand, but it wouldn't work."

"Of course you couldn't," Rose said fervently. She had felt a wave of relief at the girl's words. "You're not like them, Penny."

"I wanted to be like them." Penny's lower lip trembled, but the eyes that met Rose's flashed with an anger that took her aback. "Like Orchid and Torrance. They're powerful, they're strong, they're confident, they're…" She shook her head, as though she could not find sufficient words to describe them, and continued, "It wasn't just about helping my brother – finishing his business so that he could get away from the castle. That's what I said it was about, but… the truth is, I wanted to do something. For once." Still looking at Rose, "Can't you understand that?"

"Of course I do." Rose's voice was soft. "But idolising a couple of sadistic Slytherins - "

"I didn't idolise them," Penny said emphatically. "I just wanted… to prove that I could be as strong as them. But when it came down to it – I couldn't use an Unforgivable."

"So what did you do?"

The floorboards creaked as Penny shifted on her feet slightly. "I altered his memories."

Rose stared at her uncomprehendingly.

"I made him think that someone had cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. Made him remember the pain, the torture of it…" Penny paled. "Even though it didn't happen. I made sure he didn't remember my face – and Orchid and Torrance later guaranteed that, when they cast their own Memory Charm on him."

"That doesn't make any sense." Rose ran a hand through her hair. "Altering people's memories… only very skilled wizards and witches can do that." Seeing Penny bristle, "Of course, I don't mean to say that you - "

"My father taught me," Penny interrupted, her chin high. "When he was alive." Her eyes caught Rose's. "He was an Obliviator. One of the best in the Ministry."

"That's… er… impressive," Rose said slowly, still frowning. "But even if you did alter Tony's memories, which I'm having troubling believing – you still attacked him. You still violated him."

"I had to give him a few bruises," Penny admitted, "But it wasn't any worse than that. Giving him the memory of it happening isn't the same as it actually happening."

"I disagree." Suddenly, Rose felt very tired. All of these explanations... "This is serious, Penny. If you had been Imperiused, it would be different, but you chose to attack Tony; you chose to work with Ottelby and Bole! Why was it so important to prove yourself to them?"

There was a silence, then, quietly, "I had to protect my brother. If Geoffrey was ever going to get away from the castle, I needed to take his place and finish whatever he needed to do. He was working with Orchid and Torrance, and the… Truthseekers." She whispered the last word. Rose felt a surge of anger.

"Geoffrey," she snapped, "is a traitor, Penny, involved in a very dangerous organisation, and you shouldn't be covering for him."

"Don't talk to me like that." Penny gave her a look of disgust. "I'm not thick. I know these people are dangerous. But Geoffrey's my brother. Wouldn't you want to protect Hugo, if he was in the same situation?"

"He wouldn't be," Rose said at once, "Because Hugo's - "

"Different?" Penny raised her eyebrows at her. "You're so naïve, Rose. You can't know what it's like, because you've never had to make a hard choice in your life…"

"That's not true." Rose's voice was like a whip, as she pressed forward, right into Penny's face. "You have no idea what choices I've had to make."

There were only a few inches between them. Penny seemed a little cowed by Rose's proximity, but still she did not look away from her. "Do you know what it's like to be invisible? To want so badly to be included in a group that you'll say anything, do anything, just so people look at you? Do you know how it feels to be ignored, because you're not interesting enough?" Her face scrunched up as though she were trying not to cry, and still she went on, in a tremulous voice, "Do you know how it feels, Rose, not to belong? I've never belonged anywhere."

"I do know how it feels," Rose whispered, but Penny shook her head.

"You don't know. Merlin, you're part of the reason I've never belonged. You never really tried to make me feel included. None of you did – except for maybe Albus." There was a twinge of regret in her voice, enough to make Rose's head snap up.

"Who attacked him, Penny? Who attacked Albus?" She swallowed, feeling sick, but made herself continue, "Was it you?"

"No." Penny lowered her gaze. "But I made it happen. He found out about me attacking Tony, and he was a threat. One that Orchid and Torrance had to take care of."

More anger – hot, boiling anger. It almost blinded Rose for a moment, as her fingers twitched to her wand, wanting to hex Penny, Stun her, curse her… Then Penny's words came to her, through the mist of anger.

"They're coming for me."

Rose's hand stilled. "What did you say?"

"They're coming for me. The Truthseekers." Penny said it almost matter-of-factly, though Rose saw the hint of terror in her round eyes. "One of the patrons in the Hog's Head will have informed them by now, after seeing you downstairs. They'll want to get rid of me – and Geoff - before we can talk to you."

"They…" The world was suddenly very muffled around Rose, as she remembered a room in Knockturn Alley, where very similar words had been spoken to her, and she had acted too late, and…

You had your own agenda, and that was more important to you. Teddy had been right. So utterly, completely right.

"James and I will keep you safe," she said, as much to convince herself as to convince Penny. "We'll bring you to the Aurors."

"And what about my brother?" Penny was watching her closely, as though she could see Rose's confusion, and was taking advantage of it. "Do you realise the damage you've done?" Furthering the manipulation. All of this entered Rose's mind, but it barely made an impact, for the overwhelming fear was stronger – the fear of acting too late again, of being responsible for another death like Andromeda's…

"They'll get to me," Penny said softly, "And they'll get to my brother, before you can get another word out of us. They're that fast, Rose, and they're everywhere."

Rose was seeing Zabini in her mind's eye now, slinking out of his Animagus form and into the room they were now in – snapping Penny's neck –

"Then go," she heard herself say. "Go. Get out of here."

"What?" Penny clearly hadn't been expecting that.

"Go," Rose repeated, putting a hand over her eyes. "Jump out of the window – I don't care. Just get out of here, before the Truthseekers know we've gotten to you." Even as she spoke the words, she could feel a voice within her, shouting that this wasn't right, but for once, she didn't listen to it. Penny might be lying about altering Tony's memories; she might be lying about someone coming for her. But Rose wasn't about to take that risk.

When she looked up again, the room was empty, the window open. She crossed to it, looking out, and saw Penny's figure on the muddy ground behind the Hog's Head, sprinting away from the village and towards the mountain road.

Turning away from the window, Rose's eyes landed on an owl, tethered in its cage in the corner of the room. She looked at it for a moment, considering, and then she sat down at the creaky desk, dug out a quill and a piece of parchment from the drawers, and began to write.

---

Hugo had been to visit his mother at the Ministry before, but he didn't recall it as ever being this busy.

Though it was late in the evening, the Atrium was positively packed with people, its gilded fireplaces yielding another witch or wizard every couple of seconds, and the buzz of voices almost deafening as it echoed off the dark wood walls. Ron took Hugo's arm as they walked, and muttered to him to quicken his pace when they passed a group of Daily Prophet reporters angling to get into one of the lifts.

The wizard at the security desk looked extremely harried as he took their wands, weighing them hastily on a brass scales and checking their persons with a golden rod. It was only when he exchanged a grim glance with Ron that Hugo realised he recognised them. "It's mad in here," he muttered. "Been like this all day, since the Minister gave his address."

"I don't envy you," Ron said sympathetically, and the security wizard gave a shrug.

"The reporters will all clear out soon for the protest. Then we'll have some peace and quiet."

"Protest?" Hugo said, but his father was already grabbing their wands and dragging him on, past the golden grilles and into one of the least crowded lifts, which still held about ten wizards and witches. "What protest, Dad?"

"Hmm? What?" Ron looked around the lift, a little desperately. "Oh, hello, Imelda, how are things?"

"Do you even know that witch?" Hugo said in an undertone, glaring at his father. "What protest, Dad?"

"Your – er – your mother will tell you, I'm sure. Bit stuffy in here, isn't it?" Ron exchanged a rather weak smile with a few of their neighbours, none of whom looked amused.

"Dad…"

"Oh, here we are," Ron said brightly, just as the disembodied female voice announced, "Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

As they stepped out of the lift, he quickened his pace once more, so that Hugo practically had to jog to keep up with him, and greeted almost every witch and wizard that passed them, even the ones wearing murderous expressions and carrying piles of parchment as high as their noses.

"Hello – er – you," Ron said to one such hassled official, just when they reached the door of Hermione's office. Hugo looked at the plaque on it that read Head of Department, and felt the usual swell of pride at the sight.

Inside the office, his mother was writing something at her desk, a look of intense concentration upon her face. Her hair was gathered in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Documents were strewn all over the room, which was in a messier state than usual, and Hugo almost tripped over a large box that had been placed just behind the door.

"I just met with Percy, but it didn't go well…" Hermione began, and then she looked up and saw Hugo. "Ron! I told you not to bring anyone!"

"I didn't want to leave Hugo in the house alone," Ron explained feebly as his son rolled his eyes. "So – what did Percy say? Was he angry?"

Hermione put a hand to her forehead wearily, then stood from her desk. "He didn't believe me, at first." She began to gather up some papers. "So I said it again. And then again. And then he just – looked at me."

"I'd say you gave him the shock of his life," Ron said darkly.

"Well, what did he expect to happen?" Hermione handed the papers to Hugo. "Would you take these and wait for us outside the door, dear?"

Hugo was about to argue, but there was a steely look in his mother's eye that made him think better of it, and so, dropping his head, he took the papers and stepped outside the office. The door was shut behind him, and he was shut out of his parents' conversation: a familiar feeling.

The corridor was abustle with hurrying figures, and hushed conversations. Hugo took a few idle steps along the carpet as he waited for his parents to come out. The next door over from his mother's office stood ajar, and appeared to be some kind of meeting room. Two voices within were arguing about something, and Hugo stopped as he heard the word protest, for the second time that day.

"… just because you don't agree with the Minister's decision," the first voice said. A wizard's. "You have the right to an opinion, but if you act on it – if you go to this protest, you're directly undermining the Minister."

"It's not as if it's personal," the other voice scoffed, this one female. "I doubt many people in the Ministry agree with his decision; Weasley won't be surprised to see them there, at the protest."

"It is personal," the wizard insisted. "It's taking place outside his house, Linda; you tell me if that isn't personal."

Hugo pressed back against the wall as the door swung shut, their voices fading from his hearing. A protest. There was going to be a protest against the Azkaban Act, right outside his uncle's house. That was why his father had looked so worried all day, that was why there had been so many reporters in the Atrium…

What about his mother? What had she said to Percy that had upset him? Was she going to the protest, too? But she wouldn't. Hugo shook his head. No, his mother had more loyalty to Percy than that.

"Hugo," he heard his mother calling from her office, and he took a few paces back to the door. His parents were still inside, facing him. She was pale, but Ron looked strangely resolute. "We're going home."

They made it as far as the Atrium unmolested, but it was as they emerged from the golden grilles that the group of Daily Prophet reporters cornered them. Hugo saw the security wizard at his desk cast them an apologetic glance, and then the world went mad.

Lights flashed in their faces, voices shouted and hands reached for them. The security wizard rose and attempted to restrain some of them; he was joined by several other officials, but still the lights flashed, and the voices shouted.

"Ms Granger, what is your stance on the Azkaban Act?"

"Ms Granger, is it true that you and Kingsley Shacklebolt were the only members of the Wizengamot to vote against the Act?"

"Ms Granger, do you think that your brother-in-law is aware of the ramifications of his decision to reguard Azkaban with Dementors?"

"Ms Granger - "

They had managed to traverse half of the Atrium, clutching each other's hands and ducking their heads as the crowd of reporters followed, pressing all around them, when Hermione stopped dead. Both Ron and Hugo whipped around their heads to look at her as she said loudly, "I wish to make a statement."

The din quieted somewhat, the reporters' voices dying down, and Hermione repeated herself several times, calmly. At last, the security officials caught up with them, shoving the Daily Prophet reporters back into something of an orderly line. Hermione seized the topmost piece of parchment from the pile still in Hugo's arms, then took a step forward, so that she stood on her own. As cameras flashed around them, she began,

"Since the Minister of Magic announced his intention last night to restore Dementors as guards of Azkaban Prison, I have been considering how best to respond to the new situation we find ourselves in." Her eyes barely glanced down at the parchment as she spoke, directed instead above the heads of the journalists. "As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I must appear to support the Minister's decision. However, my opposition to the proposed Azkaban Act is well-known." She paused, and Hugo stared at her. He wasn't the only one; a crowd had gathered around them in the Atrium, beyond the reporters. The hush around them seemed to grow as Hermione went on, solidly, "I cannot and will not advocate the use of Dementors to force prisoners into submission. Having taken the recent security breaches of Azkaban into account, I maintain that nothing can justify the Ministry's entering into an alliance with creatures who were once in the thrall of Lord Voldemort. I do not believe that their loyalties have changed since the war, or indeed, will ever change." For the first time, her voice faltered, only slightly, and Hugo saw Ron discreetly place a hand on her elbow. She glanced down at the parchment one last time, and then said quietly, "My feelings on the matter are such that I can see no way forward but to step down as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and resign my seat on the Wizengamot."

Within a few seconds, the sounds of the crowd around them had once again intensified into a roar of voices, cameras flashing at a much greater rate than ever before. Taking a firm hold of his wife and son, Ron steered them on through the crush of people, and out through the nearest fireplace.

---

Scorpius was sprawled on his bed, listening to the wireless, when a knock came on his door. He glanced up, mildly apprehensive. Orchid had been utterly quiet in her room for hours, and no hit-wizards had come to the door searching for her – yet.

"Is something wrong?" he said, once he had rolled to his feet and opened the door. Orchid stood there, looking a little abashed.

"Everything's – er – everything's fine." She shuffled her feet a little – shyly? Was Orchid actually shy? "I was actually just wondering if I could borrow some clothes." Waving a hand at her ratty sweatshirt and torn jeans, "Of course, it's fine if not, but…"

"No, that's no problem at all," Scorpius said, in a voice that sounded much more certain than he felt. "Some of my mother's things are still here." He crossed the hallway to his parents' bedroom and cracked open the door, as if he half-expected his father to be inside, admonishing him for trespassing. But the room stood unoccupied, the bed rumpled and unmade, books strewn all over the shelves and papers everywhere.

Scorpius went to the wardrobe and bent to the drawer at the bottom, where he knew his mother kept her things. He drew out a pair of clean robes of soft blue, and a linen dressing gown. Instantly, his mother's scent washed over him, and he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"You miss her, don't you?" Orchid had followed him inside the room, and was regarding him with something like tenderness in her eyes. Scorpius suddenly felt very confused. He glanced down at the robes, then back at Orchid.

"Are these OK?" he said at last. She nodded her thanks, taking them from his arms, and made to turn away, but he added, a little hoarsely, "Yes. I do miss her."

Orchid clutched the clean fabrics to her closely, as though she had never owned anything like them before, and regarded him for a long moment. "I'd like to tell you that it gets easier," she said finally. "But I lost my mother ten years ago, and I still miss her every day." Her breath caught. "It never gets easier. But… I hope you do see your mother again. Soon."

Then, she reached up, and, very lightly, brushed a strand of Scorpius's hair away from his forehead. He closed his eyes at her touch, as her knuckles pressed momentarily against his skin, and then it was over, and she had stepped back from him, her eyes soft and gentle. "Thank you for the clothes."

In that moment, Scorpius might very well have done something he would have seriously regretted. He considered it; he was tempted, but something did halt his steps until Orchid had left the room, preventing him from going after her. Perhaps it was his own good sense, or just as likely, his self-doubt; after all, she had rejected him once before. Or perhaps it was not something, but someone, who stopped him: someone who had been lingering in the back of his mind even as Orchid's touch electrified his skin.

It was strange that his thoughts should have taken that direction, for when Scorpius returned to his room, he found a letter on his bed, in a hand that was unfamiliar to him. He opened the envelope, tugging out the parchment, and sat back on his haunches, reading it.

Dear Scorpius,

First things first: I was sorry to hear about Jeremy's father. I hope the funeral went all right and that the family's OK and all that. It must have been a bit of a shock. I know Nina seemed awfully cut up about it. (It's Rose, by the way. Probably should have mentioned that at the start.)

We never got to finish our conversation in Madam Malkin's, as we were interrupted by your aunt (who is a delight, by the way). I was trying to explain why I was rude, on the train, but I don't think you really understood. You were saying I've been distant with you, and you're right, I have, and I'm sorry for it. Like I said, I was confused. I haven't known how to act around you since the day we found Albus together. Because you were there for me in a way that no one else was, or has been since it all happened, and I didn't really know how to thank you properly. (Merlin, this kind of thing is much easier to say on paper.)

Anyway, you might ask why I'm telling you all this now: well, something's happened. It turns out that one of my friends was involved in what happened to Albus, too. Penny Alderton. I was talking to her today, and she admitted that though Ottelby and Bole were the ones who attacked Albus, she made it happen. There's more stuff, too, that I'll tell you in person. But I wanted you to know that much.

Rose

Scorpius read through her letter once, twice, three times. Then he ran a hand through his hair until he had flattened it, and scribbled a very hasty response. He had released his owl through the window when he heard stirrings in the corridor, and went out to see Orchid regarding him quizzically. She had changed into his mother's robes; they fell around her in soft folds. "Sending a letter, are we?"

"More like a note," he replied, struggling to keep his voice even.

"You told me that you'd keep my secret, Scorpius." Tilting her head, a frightening gleam in her eyes, "Were you lying?"

"If I lied," Scorpius said, "then so did you."

The house suddenly seemed very quiet around them. The smallest of smiles curved Orchid's lips as she addressed as she would have addressed a child, "What did I lie about, Scorpius?"

"You told me Penny Alderton attacked Albus Potter. But it was you who cast the Sectumsempra Curse. You and Torrance."

Orchid inclined her head. "You figured it out."

"What else did you lie about?" Scorpius asked. Then, seeing a flicker of amusement in her eyes, he drew back once more. "There were no hit-wizards after you, were there? That whole story you told me about arguing with Torrance, getting hit…"

"So maybe I exaggerated some of the details," she said, in a voice of velvet. "And maybe Torrance was the one who gave me that cut, and not the hit-wizards. But I wanted to give you the right motivation, Scorpius. I know how you have a weakness for helpless witches…" She laughed a little. "And a weakness for me, of course."

"Not anymore," he said harshly, though he could feel his face flushing.

"Oh, really? What if I had made something happen?" Orchid stepped right up to him, her breath hot on his cheek. "What if I had kissed you when you gave me those clothes? Would you have stopped me – or would you have kept going?"

Scorpius grabbed hold of her wrists as she reached for him. The words of Rose's letter were still fresh in his memory, and somehow they made everything a little clearer. Roughly, he lowered Orchid's hands to her sides, roughly. "Why? Why lie to me?"

She gave him no answer as he still held her wrists, her eyes locked on his, defiant, laughing. Then Scorpius recalled something his mother had said to him months ago, and he let go of Orchid as though her skin had burned him, taking another hasty step backwards. "This was a test," he spat. "Wasn't it?"

There's a chance that the Truthseekers will attempt to conscript you.

"A test," Scorpius said again, while Orchid's smile grew. "To see where my loyalties are."

"I did hope that they'd still be with me and Torrance," she said, with a shrug as though she were trying to appear careless. "After all, we've been your friends for much longer than that Weasley girl. But then again, you always were contrary, Scorpius."

"Don't put that on me," he snapped. "You can't expect things to stay the same between us after what you and Torrance did."

"You're nothing but a distraction to her, you know," Orchid pressed on, her voice soft. "Once she gets bored of running around with you, of shocking her family, she'll drop you. Trust me; I know her type." Angling herself towards him, "She'll let you down in the end, Scorpius. You know that." Even more softly, "But we won't."

"Enough," he cut across her.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Scorpius raised his head to look her straight in the eye. "I wish I could say the feeling is mutual, but right now, I'm feeling very tempted to send an owl to the Ministry and let them know that Orchid Ottelby is staying in my house."

Orchid's lip curled. "You wouldn't."

He stepped right up to her, his shoes scraping against the floor of the hallway. "I'll give you ten minutes."

As she turned away with a grimace, he called after her, "And keep my mother's clothes. You might need them if you run into any more nasty hit-wizards."

---

By day, Beechwood Avenue was just another suburban street in London. Beneath gunmetal grey skies, the faux-Tudor houses, clipped lawns and wheelie bins were not exactly inspiring. But at sunset, it became a place of mystic charm: when the lattice windows gleamed a soft pink in the fading daylight, when the air was rich with the scent of old brick and when the occasional ghost-whistle of a nearby tram could be heard.

Tonight, the rippling air outside the house at the end of the avenue added to that mystic charm. Anyone who passed would assume it was a heat-haze, perhaps from the engines of passing cars or fuel trucks. But Rose Weasley knew better as she paused outside her uncle's house, the Knight Bus speeding off into nothingness behind her.

Glancing up and down the road to make sure no Muggles were in sight, she then reached out a hand and lightly touched the invisible barrier, jerking it back a moment later.

"You need a password."

Turning, she saw Scorpius crossing the street to come to a halt before her. He was clad in a loose shirt and jeans, and his hair looked as though he had been running his hands through it for the past hour. "So you came."

"You waited for me," Rose returned, folding her hands behind her back. Inside her pocket was the folded note that Scorpius had sent her an hour or so ago. Her heart had been thumping wildly as she prised it from her owl's claws, but it had contained only one sentence, inviting her to join him at the protest outside her uncle's house.

"Of course," he said, with a slight inclination of his head, and Rose could not read his expression as he looked at her. Suddenly, she found herself wishing that her letter had not been quite so long – quite so fervent. What must he have thought of her, of it?

Clearing her throat, she said, "So… we need a password to get through? Do you happen to know it?"

Scorpius nodded again, turning towards the barrier. "They announced it on the W.W.N. as I was listening earlier. Probably not the wisest idea, as it means anyone but Muggles can enter, but I think their priority is getting the most numbers that they can, especially at such short notice." Drawing a deep breath and glancing up and down the road in the same way that Rose had done a few minutes before, he pulled out his wand and touched the tip of it lightly to the barrier. "Ekrizdis."

There was no bolt of light; no ripple of air, nothing. Scorpius was simply beside Rose one instant and gone the next, and she blinked at the barrier before her that had sucked him through.

All she had to do was utter the same name as he had, and touch her wand to the barrier. But, looking up at her uncle's house, at the dark, sealed windows, and imagining what Molly and Lucy and Percy and Audrey must be feeling at this invasion of their home: the fear, the apprehension, the vulnerability…

When she had received Scorpius's note, she had not allowed herself to think too hard about it. She had thought enough that day, after all, and perhaps it was time to simply act. She disagreed with this new law, didn't she? It had cost her mother's career, hadn't it? And, what was more, Scorpius was putting his trust in her; he was taking a risk in asking her to come with him, in sending her the note at all.

It would have been hard to reject such a gesture; hard to refuse him like that. But now, as Rose stood there with her hands trembling behind her back, this – this was harder.

"I can't do it," she said as Scorpius reappeared beside her with a questioning look, having stepped back through the barrier. "I'm sorry, Scorpius. I can't betray my uncle like this."

"Even after what he's done?" Scorpius looked up at the house, his brow furrowing. "What he plans to do?"

"Of course I don't agree with it," Rose said, with a catch to her voice. "Of course I think something should be done to stop it going ahead. And of course I'd like to be part of that, but, Scorpius, he's family; I can't…" She shook her head, unable to go on. Scorpius looked at her thoughtfully, then glanced back at the house.

After a moment's consideration, he began quietly, "You said in Madam Malkin's that you weren't sure where things stood with us. That you were confused."

"I - "

"You don't need to be confused." Scorpius turned to face her fully, searching her face. "We're friends, Weasley. Allies. And the point of having those is that you don't have to do the difficult things alone. You don't have to do this alone."

Rose gazed at him. His eyes were lit with a certainty that she had never seen before. He held out his hand. "I'm with you, Rose."

She swallowed, hesitating. Their eyes were still locked together, and time seemed to stand still, the noises of the road fading behind them. Finally, Rose reached out and put her hand in his. His fingers were warm and calloused, and she held them tightly, following suit as he uttered the password once more, and passing through the barrier.

---

Rose could not believe her eyes. Though she had visited her uncle's house often before, the grounds were almost unrecognisable. The lawn had been expanded to accommodate the hundred or so wizards and witches that had turned out for the protest, a clamouring crowd whose many feet had already churned the grass beneath into mud.

She was jostled about by several elbows as she took a few steps forward, attempting to peer over the top of the people's heads in front of her to read the nearest placard, which was hovering in midair a few feet above them.

Hearing her name, Rose whirled to see her cousin James wading his way through the throng towards her. She dropped Scorpius's hand hastily, attempting to look nonchalant as her cousin reached them.

"Justice, not despair," James said into her ear, and she did not realise what he meant until he nodded to the placard that she had been gawking at. "That's what it says. It's what most of them are yelling, too."

"As protest slogans go, it's not what I'd call catchy," Scorpius remarked.

"What's he doing here?" James demanded of Rose, who gave him a warning look.

"He invited me. I didn't realise you'd be coming to this too."

"I reckoned Uncle Percy needs to be taken down a peg or two," James said, with a shrug.

"James…" Rose broke off, swearing colourfully as someone passing by trod on her foot.

"Maybe we should find a better spot to stand?" Scorpius suggested dryly, just as James was pitched towards them by the swell of the crowd, knocking into Rose's shoulder.

"That might be an idea." Rose rubbed her shoulder, her cousin pushing off her with a curse.

"What have I told you about sarcasm, Weasley?" Scorpius said as they made their way through the crowd, squeezing around large frames and ducking under outstretched arms. "It doesn't suit you."

"That's what I keep telling her!" James exclaimed, and then he seemed to remember who he was talking to, and looked uncomfortable. Turning to Rose, "Your dad's around, by the way."

"Here? At the protest?" Rose looked around wildly, as though she expected her father to come bursting through the crowd towards her any moment. "He doesn't know I sneaked out of the house. If he runs into me…"

She noticed that Scorpius, too, looked alarmed at the prospect, but James shook his head. "Not out here. He's inside the house, with Uncle Percy. Said he wanted to talk some sense into him."

"What kind of sense?" They had come to a stop in a marginally less crowded section of the grounds, near a knot of Daily Prophet reporters who were talking eagerly into earpieces, waving their wands as they did so. James ducked his head as one of them glanced their way, and said quietly to Rose,

"He's trying to convince Percy to come out and talk to the crowds, settle some terms. If he doesn't, well… the protest is just going to get bigger. And louder. And quite possibly violent."

"There are protective charms on the house," Rose pointed out. "What are people going to do, exactly? Throw Dungbombs at the windows?"

"Maybe for a start." James shrugged, then visibly brightened. "Look, Hogwarts people!"

Rose looked, and sure enough, there was a whole host of familiar faces converging on them through the crowd. She felt Scorpius stiffen beside her at their approach. She saw several from her House, including Albus, Cassie, Rory, Jackie Saunders and Mark McLaggen, along with Lisa Harvey, Diana Turpin, and Nina Meyer. Even Summer Birchgrove had turned out for the occasion, and looked somewhat defiantly at James as she came up. And there, beside her, was -

"Tony?" she exclaimed. He grinned at her, moving to give her a quick peck on the lips before she had fully registered his presence. "Aren't you – forbidden to leave the castle?"

"Hobspawn's away, and Professor Harris gave every student of age permission to attend the protest," he explained, still grinning at her. This was all wrong – confusing and wrong. "She's not a fan of the Azkaban Act, as you might have guessed."

Rose stared up at him as he slung an arm around his shoulders, then looked to her left, but Scorpius had already moved away towards Nina.

"Most of us came together," Albus was telling James, the eagerness in his voice palpable. "We took the tube from Charing Cross."

"The Muggles didn't know what to make of us," Cassie supplied. "Probably thought we were going on some bender."

"It was brilliant!" Rory Finnigan broke in, rounding on Albus's other side. "I felt like I was on one of those carts in Gringotts!"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say some of them had never been on the Underground before," Nina Meyer muttered, and Scorpius gave an involuntary snort that caused a few of the others, including Rose, to look around at them. They were standing a little way back from the huge group.

"I have never been more glad to see you," Scorpius said in a low voice.

"You have no idea," Nina replied, with a little shudder. "Travelling here with those people… you'd swear we were going on a holiday or something. I bet half of them don't even know what the protest's about."

"Why did you come here with them, so?"

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "Well, I figured safety in numbers. They were in the Leaky Cauldron when I arrived there." Pausing, "And it was either go with them or Santini."

"Say no more," Scorpius said, lifting his hands, and Nina smirked at him.

"I knew you'd understand."

---

"I've noticed something," James said thoughtfully.

Dusk had swept in, the crowd at the protest swelled to about three hundred, and still there was no movement in the windows of Percy Weasley's house before them. True to Rose and James' prediction, several Dungbombs had been thrown only to bounce right back at their owners, to the amusement of those watching, and someone had set off a couple of fireworks that were bound to confound some Muggles. But still, the house stood dark and silent before them. Despite this, no one seemed to be tired yet, or disheartened; there was a tang of anticipation in the air that only seemed to grow as the hours passed.

Cassie was sitting cross-legged on the grass, her back against the low stone wall that ran along the border of the Weasleys' expanded. James sat beside her, on the wall itself, and the others were scattered around them in twos and threes, talking amongst themselves. The hum of their voices sounded in his ears as he turned his head to look at Cassie, who flicked her eyes towards him.

"What? What have you noticed?"

"It's curious," James said, a little absently now, for his attention was really on other things now – such as the strip of exposed skin between the waistband of Cassie's trousers and her shirt as she sat below him, by the wall.

"Go on," she said, rolling her eyes. "Keep me in suspense."

"Aren't you cold down there?" he heard himself say instead. "The grass must be damp."

Cassie glanced down. "It is, a little, but I don't mind."

"Here." James shrugged off the leather jacket that he had been wearing as part of his Muggle disguise. "Put this under you."

"If you insist," Cassie said lightly, giving him a smile. There was a hungry gleam in her eyes as she took him in, which James processed before saying,

"I'll tell you what I've noticed – on one condition."

"Interesting." She unfolded herself, adjusting her position so that her body was twisted towards his. The gap of exposed skin beneath her shirt grew, and James struggled to regain his focus. At last, he said, his voice low,

"Come out for a drink with me. After this."

Cassie tilted her head as though she were considering, as though he didn't know she would jump at the opportunity. She tried so hard to sound casual as she replied, "I'll think about it." But James saw the way her hands bunched on the leather beneath her, the blood that rushed to her cheeks as she suddenly seemed to have difficulty looking at him – or maybe the difficulty lay in not looking at him.

"Not enough," he said, sliding off the wall and onto the grass beside her, turning to breathe the words into her neck, "You need to promise."

Cassie caught her breath as his hand brushed over her exposed hip, and kept her gaze fixed ahead, somehow. Two bright spots of colour had formed above her cheekbones. At last she said, more like gasped, as his hand continued to trace light circles on her skin, "I promise."

"Good." As though nothing had happened, James withdrew to his seat on the wall once more, not caring who had seen them. "Now for my side of the bargain. Do you see those reporters over there?"

Cassie followed his gaze, though he was not convinced she even knew what she was looking at, in her distraction. At last, she said, "What about them?"

James lowered his voice once more. "See how they keep waving their wands, every few seconds? They haven't stopped since we arrived."

"They're sending off reports to the paper," Cassie said, vaguely.

"Reports of what?" James tilted his head. "Nothing's really happening, is it? Surely they couldn't have that much to talk about."

Cassie straightened. "So what are you thinking?" Her voice sounded more normal now.

"They're reporters. They won't stop at anything to get a good story. What if they're trying to get into the house, to talk to the Minister?"

A pause. Then she made a scoffing noise. "They can't get past the Fidelius Charm. No one can get past that."

James shrugged his shoulders. "Won't stop them trying."

"Or maybe it isn't the house." They both turned to see that Rose had joined them.

"Way to eavesdrop, coz," James said, with a frown.

She waved a hand. "You're not as discreet as you think you are." With a glance towards the reporters, she said more quietly, "Maybe they're trying to break the protective charms around the grounds."

"And expose us to the Muggles? Why would they do that?"

"The threat of exposure could force Percy to respond," Rose reasoned. "To finally come out, and give them a good story."

"That sounds like something those activists would do," Cassie remarked. At James and Rose's questioning glances, "You know, those ones who led the demonstration at King's Cross. Truthseekers."

James and Rose at each other for a long moment. "It does," the latter said at last, in a voice that was somewhat strangled. "Doesn't it?"

---

Summer Birchgrove frowned in concentration as her wand traced an outline on the placard hovering in the air before her. Albus could not make out what it was meant to be as he knelt beside her on the grass, a little distance from the wall where the others were gathered. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I'm a little busy," she said, not looking away from her work.

"Then I'll be quick. I…" Albus let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "I owe you an apology. What I said to you, the other day, and – everything before that – I'm sorry. You were right, my feelings weren't your fault, or your problem."

Summer was silent, still tracing her wand through the air, and Albus glanced again at the placard, his curiosity growing. "Is that a Dementor you're drawing?"

"It is," she said curtly.

"And what does that writing say beneath it?" He squinted, but was distracted when Summer turned to look him in the eye for the first time.

"So that's your apology?"

He nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for assuming that you had feelings for me, and for being harsh with you the day I argued with James… But I do wish – that you had given me a bit more warning. Been a little more straight with me."

"I treated you like a friend, Albus. Nothing more."

"I know, and – I hope we can have that again. Some time."

"I hope so, too." Summer rose to her feet, flicked her wand once more. The placard rose above their heads, now completed, and Albus stared. "But I can't promise anything. Not when I'm still upset over what you said."

"Of course." Albus could barely even hear the words he was saying now, his gaze fixed on the placard. "But, er… Summer, what - "

But before he could question her, they were surrounded by the group of Hogwarts students that had been sitting by the wall, which erupted in chortles and gasps as they beheld the placard. It was in black and white, depicting a hooded Dementor, and bore a statement in swirling writing beneath: NO BEING DESERVES TO BE ENSLAVED.

"Oh, dear Merlin," Nina Meyer groaned, and Scorpius, beside her, shook his head.

"You do realise, Summer," he heard one of the Gryffindors, McLaggen, say in a pained voice, "that Dementors are classified by the Ministry as Non-Beings."

Summer turned her chin up haughtily. "I'm part of a campaign that's working to grant them Being classification."

There were a few titters around the group, though Scorpius noticed that neither of the Potter brothers looked amused. Rose's friend, Cassie Miller, on the other hand, was smiling. "Don't you think you're missing the point a little, Summer? This protest - " She waved a hand around to indicate the crowd around them, still clamouring, " – is about the prisoners in Azkaban, and their rights. Not the rights of a bunch of soul-sucking Dark Creatures."

A hum of agreement. Summer had turned pink, and her friends, flanking her on either side, looked embarrassed, whether for her or for themselves, Scorpius couldn't tell. "They're trapped souls beneath their hoods," the Hufflepuff witch said, but now her voice was so reedy that it could barely be heard over the noise of the crowd. "Trapped souls that might – might even have been human once."

With a roll of his eyes, James Potter's resolute mask seemed to crack, even as his brother cast him a warning look. "They're not trapped souls, Summer. They trap souls, that's kind of their thing."

Summer Birchgrove's chin had sunk a little down towards her chest as there was another little ripple of laughter following Potter's words. Scorpius saw Rose frown, but before she could say anything in Summer's defence, he felt himself step forward.

"Have any of you ever actually seen a Dementor?" he questioned. Looking around the group, he was met with stony faces, curious glances, and suddenly clenched fists, but those were all things he was well used to. His gaze landed on James last. "Have you seen one, Potter?"

The Gryffindor captain muttered a negative, without meeting Scorpius's eye, and the latter turned back to Summer. "Neither have I. So can any of us really say whether they're Beings, or Non-Beings, or if they were ever human once? Do any of us actually know what's beneath those hoods?"

More silence, more stony faces. Summer was still looking down, her chin drooping. "So," Scorpius drawled, "maybe we should let people have their opinions about what Dementors are, and what this protest is really about."

Rose was staring at him. Despite himself, despite the fact that Mason's arm was still slung possessively around her shoulders, he met her gaze, and gave a little shrug.

Then there was the sound of someone clapping their hands, from just outside the group. They all looked around, and there was a collective intake of breath as one of the reporters from nearby took a few steps into their circle.

It was an elderly witch with striking features, dark liquid eyes and sallow skin, lengths of hair that was both grey and coal. She was holding a clipboard and quill under her arm, and had an earpiece, just like the other reporters, but Scorpius knew he had seen her before, and one glance at Rose confirmed his suspicion. Instantly, he took a step backwards, hand on his wand.

"I beg your pardon," Carlotta Pinkstone said with a smile, finally folding her hands together. "But I couldn't help but overhear your speech, Mr. Malfoy. Quite remarkable, really."

Scorpius did not need to ask how she knew his name. He stared at her, his mouth in a thin line. "What are you doing here? This has nothing to do with you – with them." The back of his neck prickled as he remembered, once again, his mother's words, and Orchid's visit to him, her attempts to recruit him. Was that why Pinkstone was here?

Still smiling, the witch ignored him, turning to Summer Birchgrove and eyeing her placard. "As for you, young lady, standing up for your beliefs like that, at a protest where you might easily be shouted down. Very impressive."

Summer, too, did not seem to know what to say. Her face had the same question on it as that of everyone else in the group: What the hell is going on?

"If I could just make one minor adjustment," the witch continued, taking a step forward. Her hand curled as the image on the placard changed, to one of a black, spidery symbol: one all of them had seen before, countless times.

"Shit," was all James said, and Albus gaped behind him, pointing his finger.

"I know who you are; you're Carlotta Pinkstone!" he exclaimed. Turning to the others, "She's Carlotta Pinkstone!"

"Yes, well done, Potter," Scorpius said dryly. "I think we've figured that out already."

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Tony Mason asked, a quiver in his voice.

"Oh, I'm sure Rose Weasley will tell you," Pinkstone said calmly. "Rose Weasley knows everything. Including who attacked you, boy. And what's more, she let her get away."

"What?" James rounded on his cousin. "You told me she knocked you out with Peruvian Darkness Powder!"

"I lied." Tony had turned to her, too, but Rose could not face the disbelief in his eyes. "I had good reason." Then, averting her gaze, she took another step forward. "What do you want, Pinkstone?"

The witch waved a hand, removing the earpiece as she did so. "You're still uninteresting, Weasley, I'm afraid. It seems you've learnt nothing since our last encounter."

She moved away, and a moment later, her magnified voice echoed over the lawn as the crowd quieted around them. "This protest is over. Our demonstration now begins."

The air around them rippled, and suddenly the noise of traffic became loud in their ears, the bubble of secrecy that had protected the lawn gone. There was the sudden pressure of bodies pressing in on each other as people began to panic, moving as one to get away from the lawn – from view of the Muggles beyond. Someone moved in Percy Weasley's window.

Rose surged forward in the direction that Carlotta Pinkstone had gone, but tripped over James's outstretched foot. He raised an eyebrow at her as she hung back. "I think I speak for everyone here when I say: what is going on?"

"There isn't time to explain - "

"So make time," Nina said harshly, and near her, Cassie nodded. "You've lied to us. You've kept things from us all year. We know that you have. Now it's time to tell us what the hell is happening." Twisting to Scorpius, "And that means you, too."

Around them, figures in black were beginning to close in as the crowd rapidly dispersed from the lawn in pops and cracks and gasps, but everyone in their own group remained still, as though frozen in a spell. Faces set as they waited for Rose to speak; to tell them everything. She cast a desperate glance at Scorpius, who simply lifted his shoulders again. Nearby, Tony was staring at her, an expression in his eyes as though he did not know who she was.

"OK," she said at last, as Muggle sirens began to blare in their ears. "Where do you want me to start?"