Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling
Chapter 29: Mid-Term Break
Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,
Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four-foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.
A four foot box, a foot for every year.
- Seamus Heaney, "Mid-Term Break"
Scorpius Malfoy's sleep was deep and dreamless. He walked through a plain of darkness. Sometimes, in his more lucid moments, he felt the tangle of bedclothes with his limbs, heard the steady hum of voices above and around him.
Strange shapes danced across his closed eyelids, and Scorpius spent what felt like days contemplating opening them. Once, when he managed to glimpse a white ceiling, someone said something and darkness poured over him once more.
Consciousness came to him gradually, and he caught little snatches of conversation around him. At last he became aware that he was in a white ward. The hospital wing... but it couldn't be, his mind corrected, for it was too small, and through the window he could see rooftops. He must be in St Mungo's, then. And standing before the glass with his back to him was his father.
Scorpius shifted, the bedclothes rustling around him as he did so, and his father spun on his heel, making swiftly for his side. "You're awake. How do you feel?"
"Fine," Scorpius replied drowsily. He blinked up at his father's ashen face. "What happened?"
"You don't remember?"
"I remember... grey light." Scorpius's brow furrowed. "And someone was there, with their hands on me - it felt..."
The door to the ward opened, making him jump, and when he saw the figure who stepped in, he could not believe his eyes. "Mum! What are you doing here?"
She looked past him, to his father. Her face was drawn, but her eyes were bright and fierce. "Get out."
"Astoria..."
"Out," she said again, and Draco looked at her for a long moment before straightening and moving silently out of the ward. The door shut quietly behind him, and Scorpius stretched out a hand to his mother, who pressed forward and took it, squeezing it tightly. "Oh, Scorpius, I'm so glad you're awake. I've been so worried about you!"
"I've been worried about you," he said, and his mother made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He couldn't tell which, for she had bent over his limp hand, her dark hair spilling forward and obscuring her face. From here, he could see the cobweb of grey hair on the top of her head.
"Mum?"
"Hmm?"
"Why did you throw Dad out?"
There was a long pause. Through it, Scorpius could hear the muffled sounds of the hospital - the crackle of a wireless in the next ward over, the shuffle of Healers' feet in the corridors outside, a distant, plaintive cry. His chest constricted a little, and he felt a sharp stab of pain where they had bandaged him.
His mother raised her head, slowly. "You have a lot of questions. I know you do." Her green eyes were swimming with tears. She squeezed his hand tighter. "And I will answer them, Scorpius. I will tell you everything. But first, you need to know..."
The distant cry became louder, until it seemed to fill Scorpius's ears, reverberating through his being, and he watched his mother's lips move without sound, forming the words that tore him apart.
Your cousin, Tobias. He didn't make it.
The hired car gave a jolt, and Rose was wakened from her doze with a start. Up front, her father was cursing as he fiddled with the dials of the radio, her mother had her arm draped over the back of the seat, strategically placed to pat Rose's knee reassuringly every now and then, and beside her, Hugo was dozing with his mouth half open. Through the windows, the hilly Welsh countryside flashed by, blurred with rain.
"Bloody thing. What in Merlin's name is wrong with it?"
"Ron..."
"I want to hear the news. Is that too much to ask?"
"It's a Muggle car," Hermione reminded him.
"But Pembley told me he'd tweaked the wireless so it would play the W.W.N."
"Maybe he lied." Her mother's tone was light, and ordinarily Ron would have responded accordingly, but Rose noticed that he didn't now. He shook his head, gritting his teeth.
"I need to hear the headlines."
"You can listen when we get home. We're nearly back now." Hermione squinted out the window, shading her hand over her eyes. "Look, there's Holyhead, over the hill."
"Not much good to us. We'll be another half hour at least, with this." Rose's father groaned, putting on the brakes as they approached a long line of traffic. "They might have caught those bastards by now, and we haven't a clue. I should have told Harry and Ginny to send an owl."
"You know that would have been impossible for them," Hermione said patiently. "We've been travelling by Muggle roads all day."
Ron snorted. "Well, forgive me if I'm not too worried about honouring the Statute of Secrecy at the moment."
"Ron..."
"You heard what they said this morning." Her father lowered his voice. "That Muggle reporter got away - with the photographs."
"They'll catch him."
"Not if the Truthseeker lot are protecting him."
"They've got no leadership now that Pinkstone's been taken in. They'll fall apart."
"She wasn't their only leader."
"Who else, apart from Zabini?"
"I don't know." Ron subsided into silence for a few minutes, staring darkly ahead. Their car crawled forward a fraction, then stopped again behind a greasy truck. "That bastard."
"Zabini?"
"Godfrey Hobspawn was one of the best Aurors I've ever known. He trained me and Harry when we joined up after the war, remember." Ron shifted gears as the tiniest of spaces opened up ahead of them, glancing at his wife. "He was a good wizard. He didn't deserve the end he got."
"A good wizard, but not a good Headmaster," Hermione said quietly.
"You had to say it, didn't you?"
"I'm sorry. But you know it's true."
"Maybe. It makes no difference now." A note of bitterness in his voice, Ron tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, before adding in a softer tone, "How long do you think they're planning on closing the school?"
"I don't know." She matched his volume. "Broadmoor will take over in his place till the end of the year, I suppose, but with a student dead..."
"Who's dead?" Rose asked, and both her mother and father glanced around, abashed, then exchanged a glance.
"I thought you were asleep, Rosie," her mother said hastily, with another pat of her knee. "We didn't realise you were listening..."
"Who's dead?"
It was Rose's father who responded, his eyes on her through the rearview mirror. "The Greengrass boy. Toby, I think his name was."
Rose slumped back in her seat. Scorpius's cousin. Hadn't he lost enough already? Suddenly she felt so weary, a headache beginning to throb at her temples, and her parents' exchange grew hazy in her ears.
Only a first-year... It's so sad...
They're saying Zabini himself had a hand in it.
Don't let her hear you say that, Ron!
She deserves to know the truth.
Yes, but it's so... so...
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Rose asked, one hand on her forehead, her eyes half-closed.
Her father looked to her mother, who sighed. "You were so tired after it all happened, love, we didn't want to overwhelm you. What with Hobspawn, too..."
Rose opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. After all, they had a point; she had been tired in the hospital wing, barely able to focus on what anyone was telling her, exhausted by the constant comings and goings. It had been a relief when, after some days, Madam Pomfrey had pronounced her fit to travel, and she and her parents and Hugo had packed up and left the almost deserted castle, hiring a car at Dufftown to bring them home.
Home. The thought had lingered tantalisingly in her mind all day as she drove, coming ever closer. But now, as the line of cars began to move forward once again, her father crowing in delight and putting on the accelerator with gusto, Rose's eyes drifted to the rain-soaked world outside the car windows once more, and her thoughts were not on home as her fingers sketched aimlessly on the foggy glass, but on Scorpius and his family.
When Scorpius was younger, he had loved coming to Aunt Daphne's house, in the middle of Darwin Forest. But now, as they stood on the porch, his coldly assessing adult gaze could see that the house had fallen into disrepair. The clapboard walls were rotting, the railings of the porch were broken in places, and a layer of dead leaves covered the decking beneath their feet.
The three were silent as they waited for Aunt Daphne to answer the door. Scorpius's mother had suffered Draco to travel with them. The Ministry had granted him leave to attend the funeral, but he had to be back in London for questioning tomorrow. They had not returned to the townhouse for reasons unvoiced yet known by all. Instead, they had come straight from St Mungo's, by Side-Along Apparition. Scorpius felt queasy for some time afterwards, his chest constricting painfully, and they had been forced to rest for some time in a clearing, his mother pacing its length without a word, his father remaining still but never looking away from Scorpius.
At last, the door of the house scraped open, but it was not Daphne Greengrass who greeted them.
"Sammy," Astoria said in surprise. "Where's your mother?"
Scorpius's younger cousin ducked his head, scuffing his toe on the wood panelled floor beneath him. "She won't come out," he mumbled.
"What? What do you mean?" Astoria knelt in a rustle of robes so as better to hear him, and, unexpectedly, the boy rushed at her, throwing his arms around her neck and burying his face in her cloak. A little stiffly, she patted his back, her eyes meeting Scorpius's over his head. He understood her uncertainty; neither Tobias nor his younger brothers had ever been very affectionate with them before. But these, of course, were special circumstances.
"Astoria?" came a voice from within, and then Scorpius's grandmother appeared in the hallway behind Tobias. Alarm was written all over her face. "You shouldn't come here, so openly - the risk - "
"I've been pardoned, Narcissa," said Astoria calmly. "They announced it on the W.W.N this morning."
"Well, we don't make a habit of listening to Ministry propagranda," drawled Lucius Malfoy, joining his wife.
"Considering recent events, surely you could make an exception to such an eccentric -" Astoria began to argue, but her words lost their clarity in Scorpius's mind as a wave of dizziness came over him. He swayed where he stood, and his father grasped hold of his arm to prevent him falling. A moment later, his mother was holding him, too, but Scorpius shook them both off. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and it made him frustrated. "I'm fine. I just - just need to sit down."
"Of course," Narcissa Malfoy said, and, not ungently, shooed little Sammy from the doorway so that they could enter. "Come in, and rest."
As they passed over the threshold, Astoria going ahead, Draco made as though to help his son along, but Scorpius simply turned and looked at him, and that was enough. His father dropped his hand, and followed quietly behind.
Once a hot cup of tea had been placed into his hands, Scorpius felt a good deal better. They had placed him on the most comfortable chair in the poky drawing room, the other two wizards choosing to remain standing. Astoria held Sam on her lap as she and Narcissa talked in hushed tones. Scorpius noticed that the other boy, Will, was absent, and reasoned a moment later that he must be upstairs with his aunt.
With Tobias, a voice in his head added.
"She hasn't left his side for an instant," he heard Narcissa tell his mother, while Lucius nodded in confirmation. "We've only spoken with her through the door. She says she doesn't want a funeral."
"You're her sister. Perhaps you can talk some sense into her," Lucius added hopefully. Above them, the ceiling creaked as though someone was moving around, and Astoria raised her eyes to it, then looked at her father-in-law levelly.
"She has just lost her child. I don't think it's a question of sense. But..." Putting Sam down, "I will try to convince her to take a break."
Her footsteps left the room, and Lucius and Narcissa began murmuring together. Through it all, Draco remained silent, and Scorpius felt himself beginning to grow drowsy. Perhaps they had put something in his tea, was his last vague thought, before sleep swept over him.
A sound like a shriek awoke him, and he opened his eyes to find that the drawing room was empty. Someone had laid a throw over his knees, and it shifted on his lap as he moved in his armchair, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
He was spared the effort of rising when his father entered a moment later. "What's happening?"
Draco blinked at him, surprised; a moment later, Scorpius realised those were the first words he had spoken to him since that morning in the ward. At last, his father said quietly, "Your aunt Daphne is very distraught." His words were punctuated by another shriek from upstairs, and Scorpius raised his eyebrows.
"Tell me something I don't know."
"She doesn't want anyone to see Tobias."
"Why not?"
His father paused, swallowed, as though measuring his words. Finally, "She says he doesn't look like himself."
Scorpius swallowed. His mother had said earlier, in the ward, that Zabini was suspected to have had some part in Tobias's death, whether directly or not, but they were not sure who had actually cast the final curse. It might have been his father's spell, that had exploded the courtyard and everything around it, or it might have been the force of Pinkstone's spell - his chest constricted again, as it had earlier in the clearing. He doubled over, wheezing, and sensed rather than saw his father kneel by his armchair. The throw slipped off his lap and fell to the floor. "What can I do, Scorpius? What do you need?"
When he was able, Scorpius put out a hand, holding his father at bay. "I - I need you to - to stay away from me."
His father picked the throw up off the floor as he did so, and folded it under his arm calmly. Without looking at him, "Your mother told you what happened." It was not a question.
"She told me everything." Scorpius's chest rose and fell as he struggled to get his breath back, bracing his hands on his knees.
"There is nothing I can say to excuse my actions." His father still did not look at him as he replaced the throw over the back of the settee. "I know that."
"Does the Ministry know? Is that why they had you in for questioning?"
Draco shook his head. "They did not connect me to the - explosion by the North Tower. But they knew I was in the castle on the night, and that I was working with Zabini."
"Who does know? What really happened?"
"You and your mother. Penny Alderton, perhaps, though she may not have put two and two together."
"And you were going to kill her brother." Scorpius's voice was barely louder than a whisper.
"As I said," his father returned, "I cannot excuse what I have done."
"You certainly sound mightily sorry for it."
Draco turned on his heel, and Scorpius saw the anguish in his face, and felt nothing. "Don't you think it was punishment enough, Scorpius? Seeing you there like that - knowing that I had been..." He ran a hand over his chin, shook his head as his words stopped in his throat. His son watched him in alert silence until he spoke again, in a hollow voice. "There is one more person who might know the truth. The full truth."
"Who?"
"The Weasley girl."
Scorpius felt as though he had been punched in the stomach; the sound of that name conjured up images, feelings he had forgotten about entirely... His chest threatened to constrict again, and he massaged it with one hand, inhaling through his nose. "Rose? What does she have to do with this?"
"She was there," his father said, in that same hollow voice, and Scorpius saw that his eyes were distant. "By the Tower. When I thought you were gone - she Healed you."
Scorpius was silent. He could not quite believe what he was hearing. It was too confusing. His father went on, "I must thank her. And her family."
"No." With an effort, Scorpius met his father's gaze squarely. "I'll thank her myself. You've done enough."
There was a wet glint in Draco Malfoy's grey eyes as he looked back at his son, and though he turned away hastily to conceal it, Scorpius could not suppress a mingled sense of pity and disgust. "You're pathetic."
His father's shoulders twitched, but he did not turn around. Scorpius struggled to his feet, his nostrils flaring as something reared within him, an urge to draw blood. "I hope they lock you up. I hope they put you in a cell for the rest of your miserable life, because Merlin knows Mum and I would be better off without you."
He heard his father breathe in sharply, and they heard footsteps, and the door opened, squeaking forward on its hinges. Astoria Greengrass stood there, drooped with weariness, and her eyes glanced between father and son before she said at last, "Daphne's ready for us to come up now."
The sound of rushing sea was an old friend of Rose Weasley's, and as she stood on the damp sand, she tried to rejoice in it, to let it fill the core of her being. Her eyes drifted closed, and she stretched out her arms as she had often done before, to feel the salty spray on her bare skin, deliciously cold.
But her mind would not empty today. She supposed it wasn't surprising. She had woken up that morning to the blare of the W.W.N. in the kitchen downstairs - her parents had scarcely turned it off since they had gotten back - and spent the first groggy hour of consciousness attempting to compose a letter to Scorpius. Someone had told her that the funeral was yesterday. All of her words seemed hollow and false on paper, and now crumpled parchment layered her desk.
She needed to see him. To believe that he was actually alive, that she hadn't just imagined it that day.
Glancing back at the house, so rambling and ivy-hung that it seemed almost part of the rocky cliff on which it perched, Rose felt a twinge of regret as she felt, deep in her gut, that she could not stay much longer. Then her eyes alighted on a figure, making their way down the path that cut horizontally into the cliff, and she tilted her head, hands in her pockets.
"James," she called, once her cousin was within hailing distance, and he raised a hand to greet her. He was picking his way over the jagged rock at the end of the path very gingerly, every now and then clutching his side. With a pang, she remembered that he had been injured. Had anyone been left whole after that day?
"They told me you were down here," he said, drawing up to her on the sand at last and shading his eyes with his sand as he stared out to sea. He looked better up close than she had expected, two spots of colour in his cheeks from the exercise. "Trying to summon the elements?"
"Trying and failing," Rose replied flatly, and her eyes swept over a shell that lay nearby; a shell she had attempted to move with her mind earlier, to no avail. Ever since she had Healed Scorpius in the courtyard, she had tried in vain to feel that stirring within her again.
But it was no good telling James that, for Scorpius was the only one who knew about her wandless magic. Well, Scorpius and his father now, too, she corrected herself. Looking at her cousin sidelong as she put her hands in her pockets, she asked, "Are your parents about?"
James nodded, his eyes fixed on the sea. "They wanted to drop over to give your folks the latest."
"The latest?"
"Orchid Ottelby and Torrance Bole have been caught."
Rose let out her breath. "Thank Merlin."
"They made it as far as Gretna Green before the hit-wizards caught up with them. They had that Muggle reporter with them, too. As you can imagine, I'm pretty relieved." James patted his side, and winced a moment later.
"You should be at home resting," she said, a little sternly. "Why did you come here?"
"Why do you think, coz? I wanted to see how you're feeling." Reaching out, he cuffed her shoulder, and she shrank back, giving him a mock glare. His gaze turned serious, assessing as he looked her over. "So?"
"I'm all right. Mostly tired." Rose sighed, passing a hand over her forehead, and glanced up at the house again. "I'm starting to go a little mad here, though. I feel so far away from everything."
"Then you'll be glad to hear my next item of news. Hogwarts is re-opening tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Rose stared at James, unable to restrain the thrill of hope within her. "You're sure?"
"They can't really leave it any later, what with exams coming up and such." James placed a hand on his chest to indicate himself. "Those of us poor unfortunates sitting the N.E. in a month's time need to catch up, after all. Life goes on, you know."
"Life goes on," Rose echoed. "And I suppose Hobspawn will be - " She stopped short, realising her mistake, and swallowed hard. Her cousin had a look of gentle understanding in his eyes as he replied,
"Professor Broadmoor will be taking over as Headmaster. At least until the end of the year."
Rose nodded. As they stood close together on the sand, a chorus of rushing waves in their ears, she said quietly, "So it's all over, then."
"I wouldn't say that, exactly. They may have caught that Muggle reporter, but he managed to leak some photos to the press before he was Obliviated. They're out there now." James stared out to sea once more.
"Sounds like the Ministry will be facing a shit storm over the next while," Rose said, and then she followed her cousin's gaze and saw that he was watching the progress of a ferry crawling along the horizon, across the Irish Sea. She thought of all the Muggles on board, who may have already had a glimpse of another world. What was it like, she wondered? To have all of your beliefs toppled - to learn that magic really existed?
"Elegantly put, coz." James slung an arm around her shoulders, dragging his eyes away from the sea at last and back up to the house. "Now come on. Time to rejoin the land of the living."
The removal had been a small affair, according to Aunt Daphne's wishes. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, Scorpius, Astoria and the two little boys had formed the party of mourners. A dumpy witch in black robes had come, said a few words over Tobias's coffin in the drawing room while they all stood around with folded hands. The sound of Daphne's keening, terrible to Scorpius's ears, had not ceased throughout the short ceremony. Her little boys had gazed at her, eyes round.
Now, the house was very quiet. Scorpius stood alone in the drawing room. His aunt's voice, high-pitched and frenzied, floated out from the kitchen, interspersed with the softer tones of his mother. He could smell the faint scent of onions, and concluded that the latter must be trying to cobble something together for them to eat. It was thoughtful, though he didn't think anyone was particularly hungry.
Lucius and Narcissa had gone back to the manor after the ceremony, and Scorpius and his mother were to join them there later. He had not seen his father for some time, and presumed that he had headed back to London, as had been the plan.
What little light was left of the day filtered in through the faded curtains, highlighting the dust on everything: the piano, the settee, the armchair where he had dozed earlier, the empty bookshelves... everything but Tobias's closed coffin. Scorpius stretched out his hand involuntarily, and felt the cold, hard wood. It was impossible to get his head around the fact that his cousin was in there, even though he had seen him earlier, when they finally been allowed up to Daphne's room. His aunt had been right; Tobias did not look like himself. He looked too little, too pale, dwarfed by the bed on which he had been placed. The smallness of the coffin had wrenched Scorpius's heart, too, when they had placed him inside and hovered it downstairs.
Aunt Daphne began to wail again, and suddenly the sound was too much for Scorpius. His feet carried him out of the drawing room, up the narrow, creaking stairs, until he finally came into what he knew to be Tobias's room, that he shared with Sammy and Will.
It was a tip, with blankets strewn everywhere and toys littering the floor. Scorpius almost tripped over a miniature of a Hippogriff as he crossed the room to Tobias's corner and cursed, rubbing his foot.
His cousin's bed was neatly made, and the space around it rather bare. Of course, Scorpius reasoned, Tobias would have most of his things in his dormitory back in Hogwarts. They mustn't have cleared it yet. The thought wrenched his heart again, but it was when he saw what was pinned to the wall above his cousin's bed that he stopped in his tracks.
It was a Gryffindor scarf, the crimson and gold fabric held in place by several pins that had been driven brutally into the wall. Scorpius gazed at it dumbly. Such an absurd trophy for Tobias to have kept from his days of spying on the Quidditch team for Santini, he did not know whether to laugh or cry.
In the end, he chose the latter.
His knees gave way beneath him, and he covered his face with his hands as his shoulders shook with sobs. They tore into his chest, making it even more difficult to breathe, and Scorpius gasped and hiccoughed every few seconds - but still the tears kept coming, and he let them.
After a time, he became conscious of another presence in the room behind him. He did not need to turn to know who it was.
"I - don't - want - to see you," he bit out savagely through his tears.
"I know," said his father's quiet voice from the doorway. And then he moved forward and approached him, glancing up at the scarf on the wall before dropping to a crouch by his side. Scorpius took his hands from his face and made to push his father away, but somehow he found himself being embraced instead - and what was more, he was not fighting it.
"I'm sorry, Scorpius," Draco Malfoy said again and again as he held his son, his voice hollow and broken in that room of ghosts. "I'm so sorry."
Rose rather wondered at herself.
She had been warned by her parents that morning, on hers and Hugo's departure from the house in Holyhead, that security in the castle would be high. A remark she had overheard as they passed through Hogsmeade, that Hogwarts might as well have been converted into a prison camp, had further prepared her for what she saw when she entered the grounds: Aurors assembled at every turn, the black figures dotting the green and lining the door to the Entrance Hall.
Inside the castle itself, the corridors were all but deserted; whatever small groups of students she and Hugo did pass on their way to Gryffindor Tower were led by a professor or prefect. They themselves had Professor Longbottom as an escort, who had accompanied them from the village.
However, instead of feeling suffocated or hemmed in, as she had expected to feel, Rose just felt relieved. Glancing at Hugo as they walked, she wondered if her brother felt the same.
"How long is it going to be this way?" he asked Professor Longbottom a moment later, sulkily, and Rose concluded that he did not.
"As long as it needs to be," the Herbology professor replied curtly. The usual friendly twinkle was gone from his face, and he looked as though he had not slept for a week. Rose was moved by pity as she regarded him. They drew up by the portrait of the Fat Lady, who regarded them with trepidation.
"The password today is Anapneo," Professor Longbottom told them in a low voice. "It will be changed daily for the time being, with the new one being issued to every student's dormitory in the mornings."
"Isn't that a lot of trouble?" Hugo pointed out, but at a nudge from Rose, he looked down. Professor Longbottom just looked at them for a moment.
"It'll be an adjustment," he said at last. "Like everything else." There was a heaviness behind his words that Rose felt keenly.
(***)
"Why hasn't he come back yet?" Rose stared at the Slytherin table over her untouched bowl of cereal, her eyes on the empty seat that should have been occupied by Scorpius Malfoy.
"He's recovering from a traumatic injury," Nina Meyer reminded her in a clipped tone of voice. "I should think that's fairly easy to understand."
"But we've been back practically a week," Rose reminded her friend, then, a bit more feebly, "He's - er - he's missing a lot."
"Well, I doubt schoolwork is his first concern at the moment."
"He wouldn't be the only one," Albus Potter said with a sigh, setting down his butterknife. "I've got to admit, I'm having a hard time caring about Golpalott's laws and Venomous Tentacula after - well - everything." He was met with a few nods of agreement, most emphatically on Cassie Miller's part.
"I can barely even focus on Quidditch these days," she said with a sigh. "You saw me at training last night, Lily, it took me ten tries to get the Quaffle past Spinnet."
Rose rested her chin on her hand glumly, still looking at the Slytherin table, and Albus nudged her from the next seat over. "You should write to him."
"I thought of that," she said gloomily, "But I don't know what to say."
"Just ask him how he is. You're his friend, aren't you?"
"Yeah..."
"So it shouldn't be so hard." Albus looked at her from behind his glasses, and she thought she detected a hint of shrewdness in his glance. Then it was gone, and he just looked kindly. "Show him you're thinking about him, at least."
Rose spent the next few days writing a succession of letters and notes to Scorpius, all of which she sent by her family owl each morning in the Owlery, none of which received a response. The phrases began to blend together in her mind as she wrote, biting the nib of her quill.
Dear Scorpius,
I haven't heard from you in a while...
I'm so sorry about your cousin...
I hope you and your family are doing OK...
I've been thinking about you a lot...
I hope you and I can talk when you get back...
I hope you're feeling all right...
Your friend,
Rose
But that wasn't quite right.
Your good friend,
Rose
That didn't sound right, either.
Your...
"What am I?" Rose asked herself aloud as she sat at her desk early on Saturday morning, composing the latest epistle. "What am I to him?
The snoring of her roommates was her only answer. Sighing, she rose from her desk and folded the letter, putting it into her pocket. She would finish it later. Right now, she needed to get some air.
Once she had explained her purpose to the Aurors at the door of the Entrance Hall, they looked at her askance but nonetheless let her pass. Rose walked, still clad in her dressing gown, the damp grass seeping into her slippers. The sun was climbing over the mountains in a pool of gold, but as of yet the grounds remained untouched by its warmth. She found her gaze drawn to the pale, cold blue of the lake as she passed by its softly lapping waters.
A column of smoke rose from Hagrid's hut by the forest, as Rose neared it, she saw a couple of Thestrals grazing on the grass outside. When she noticed the figure standing with them, she felt unsurprised, as though that was what had led her out here in the first place.
"Scorpius," she called.
He did not seem to hear her, his head leaning against the flank of one of the Thestrals, hands stroking its mane. Only when Rose drew up level with him on the soft grass did he finally turn to look at her.
He had lost weight. His face was more angular than it had been before, there were deep shadows beneath his eyes, and his hair was shorter. But mostly, Rose noticed the greyness of him; his skin seemed to have been leached of all colour.
"I didn't know you were back," she said into the silence, and Scorpius inclined his head.
"Well, I am."
Rose had the sudden bizarre desire to laugh, at the realisation they were enacting a script from long ago, when things had been very different. But then perhaps, she thought as Scorpius turned his back to her again, things were not so different now after all.
"I wrote to you," she said tentatively. "A lot. I was worried."
"Yeah, I would have replied, I just..." Scorpius leaned his forehead against the flank of the Thestral again, who was still munching placidly on the grass. "I couldn't think of anything to say."
"You couldn't?" Rose heard an edge creep into her voice, unbidden. "You couldn't think of anything?"
"Well, there was one thing." Scorpius turned his head slightly, adjusting his position slightly so that he could see her. "But I wanted to say it to you in person."
"OK." Rose felt herself become a little breathless, a thrill of hope coursing through her. "What is it?"
"I wanted to thank you," Scorpius said formally. "I owe you my life, and I will always be grateful for what you did."
Rose blew out her breath, gathered herself for a moment, then, "That's it?"
"Were you expecting something else?" There was a wariness in his regard of her, as though she were a stranger.
"Why are you being like this?" she asked, and her voice cracked a little. "Is this because of what I said to you that day, in the carriage? Because things have changed since then, Scorpius; my feelings have changed, and I..."
Scorpius held up a hand, inhaling wearily, and she heard the painful rattling in his lungs. "I can't do this with you right now, Rose. I've had a nightmare of a week, you know, and I came out here to be alone."
Stinging tears rose to her eyes, and she did not even attempt to blink them away as she whispered, "Of course. I - I understand."
"I'll see you around, Rose."
"So, what can you tell me about Glover Hipworth?"
"Well, he invented the Pepperup Potion, for one thing. What else..." James clicked his tongue as he thought. It was early afternoon, and the seventh-year boys' dormitory was empty, his fellow roommates having gone out to enjoy the sun. He lay on his bed, hands behind his head. "Er - he had some kind of principle, or a series of principles, didn't he?"
His brother nodded from where he sat in the windowseat, Index of Potioneers propped open in his lap. "You're getting somewhere."
"Principles of... Effervescence or..." James's head jerked to the side as a chorus of cheers floated in the open window from far below on the grounds, and sighed wistfully.
"You know, we've been holed up in here since breakfast," Albus pointed out, glancing out the window. "Not that I mind helping you, of course, but maybe it's time to take a break."
"No," James said firmly, shaking his head. "Not yet."
"Well, well. It appears James Potter has effected the transformation into diligent student."
"I mean it, Al," James said, though the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. "I'm serious about this."
"But you've nothing to be worried about." Albus shut the book on his lap as though to illustrate a point. "You always do well in exams."
"Not these ones," his brother murmured darkly. "Particularly as I lost a solid month doing the whole Secretkeeper business. Waste of bloody time now that I think of it."
"It wasn't," Albus said with a fond sternness, for this was familiar conversational territory. "We made a difference, James. We did something important. More important than this, anyway." He brandished the book in his lap, and James raised his eyebrows at him.
"Have you now taken over as resident Potter rebel?"
Laughing, his brother shook his head. "You'll be fine, James. You know you will."
"I want to be better than fine."
There was a brief pause, then Albus, clearing his throat, said, "You know, if you're still hoping to go for the Auror programme, there are other ways of getting in if you don't manage to get all the N.E.W.T.s - with Dad as Head Auror..."
"I don't want that," James said vehemently. "To ride on the hem of Dad's cloak, I mean. To take the easy way out."
Slowly, Albus nodded, for that was something he understood very well.
"Besides..." James shifted into a sitting position, leaning his arms on his knees. "I'm not so sure about the Auror thing anymore."
"You're not?"
"With everything we've seen this year... I dunno." Seizing the drawn curtain of his four-poster, James began to toy with one of the tassels. He did not look at his brother as he said, "I've been thinking recently about magical law."
"Really? Law?"
"Yeah, I know it doesn't seem like my kind of thing, but..." James shrugged, the tassel still in his hand. Then, at his brother's continued silence, he added, in a way that was evidently supposed to be offhand, "I suppose you think I'd be rubbish?"
"No." Albus pushed up his glasses again, shaking his head. "No, I'm just surprised. I think you'd be great, James."
"You do?"
"Well, you can certainly argue a case," Albus teased, "but no, in all seriousness, I think law would actually suit you."
A smile crossed James's face, this one full. "You know, Al, as brothers go, you're not the worst."
"Thank you. So, back to Hipworth, then..."
"Never mind, I take it back."
"Give him time, Rose."
"I didn't think he'd be so..." Rose swallowed. She and Nina were stretched out on the sun-warmed stone of the courtyard. A few Aurors lurked in the doorway into the castle, so they were not quite alone, but the two girls ignored them as best they could. "So thin, and pale. And he looks so much older, too."
"Well, he's been through a lot," Nina sighed. "He hasn't just lost his cousin, but Jem, too, remember."
"So have you," Rose reminded her quietly.
"Yeah, but I wasn't as close to Jem as Scorpius was." After a moment's consideration, "then there's Zabini, of course. He was Scorpius's uncle, despite everything."
Rose, who had been watching her friend carefully, noticed the shadow that crossed her face as she uttered that name, and said gently, "Have you heard anything about Penny?"
Nina shook her head. "Merlin, when I think of it..." Her voice was low. "She was half-dead when they found her, near where Scorpius was hit. All slashed up. Zabini put up a hell of fight before she brought him down. And she told the Aurors what she had done - very calmly, they say - and they took her in."
A shiver went down Rose's spine. "You cared about her."
"I thought I did. I thought I knew her." Nina cast a glance over at the Aurors in the doorway. "But I knew nothing about what she was capable of." Shaking herself, "Anyway, like I was saying, Scorpius has lost a lot of people in a very short space of time. He's bound to be in shock."
"I know." Rose pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "I just wish I knew how to help. But he doesn't want me anywhere near him."
"That'll change," Nina reassured her. At her dubious look, "You know he's mad about you, Rose."
"He was, before. I don't know where he is now." With some effort, Rose cast that thought aside. "But that doesn't matter now. If there was just something I could do - "
"Maybe Scorpius doesn't just need time," Nina said thoughtfully. "Maybe he needs a bit of closure, too."
"OK, so what are you thinking?" Rose looked at her friend eagerly.
"I'm thinking we can't give that to him - but I know someone who can."
"Who?"
Nina gave her a look. "You won't like it."
Most of the Quidditch pitch was occupied by the Gryffindor team that evening, whose shouts and roars filled the air, so Scorpius carried his broom a good distance away from them, his heavy boots trampling the grass beneath. The gear felt strangely bulky and unfamiliar on him. Even putting it on up in his dormitory had tired him out, and after his fit of wheezing had finished, Santini had told him he would be mad to try flying when he was clearly in no physical state to handle it. Of course, Scorpius had ignored him.
It was lucky that the stands appeared to be mostly empty, so that no one would be present to witness his failure - if failure indeed it was to be. Scowling down at his broom, Scorpius came to a halt in the desired corner of the pitch and threw one leg over.
The broom buckled, and Scorpius felt his breath catch in his throat. Then it steadied, and he put both hands on the handle in front of him, prompting it with his mind - up, up...
It rose drunkenly in the air about half a metre, then buckled again and Scorpius was thrown off none too gently. He landed hard on his back, feeling such a jolt of pain to his chest that tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
"Are you all right?" One of the Gryffindor players - the Potter girl, Lily - had pulled up her broomstick nearby, tucking her hair out of her eyes as she looked at him inquiringly. Scorpius looked back at her, found that up close she bore a disconcerting resemblance to her cousin, and growled, "I'm fine."
She shrugged, moving away again, and then Scorpius found himself hailed from another direction. With relief, he saw that it was just Nina, making her way over to him from the stands.
"I'm guessing you saw that?" he said resignedly as she reached him, and she nodded.
"It's normal, Scorpius. Don't beat yourself up about it. You'll get back on track eventually."
"I'm going to try again," he said, beginning to wheel around with his broom, but Nina put out a hand to stop him.
"I actually - wanted to ask you something."
"What?"
She bit her lip, as though she did not quite know how to approach the subject, and Scorpius was about to snap that what went on between him and Rose was none of her business when she said, "I was just talking to Professor Broadmoor."
"Oh." Surprised, he tilted his head. "Something wrong?"
"Not exactly." Nina shifted on her feet, then said, all in a rush, "I wanted to see if it was possible to visit the students who are being held in the Ministry before their hearings next week."
"Oh," Scorpius said again, but this "Oh" was very different. His heart began to thump. "Why would you want to do that?"
Nina lifted her shoulders. "They were our friends, Scorpius. I don't know about you, but a part of me needs to have some - some closure."
"You won't get any with Orchid and Torrance," Scorpius said at once. "They'll talk you in circles."
"I wasn't thinking of them."
"As for Penny... I think her reasons for killing my uncle were fairly straightforward."
Nina flinched. "But what about - "
"Jem?" Scorpius's voice was harsh. "I have nothing to say to him."
"You're sure about that?"
Scorpius, turning away with his broom, did not reply. After a moment's pause, Nina said to his back, "Broadmoor agreed to it."
"Well, that's... surprising."
"He said it was unusual, but considering the circumstances - the fact that they left so suddenly, that they were our friends, he would allow it. As long as we go outside school hours, accompanied by an Auror." Nina paused, then said, "How about tomorrow?"
Scorpius said nothing, just climbed onto his broom again. He heard the sound of her footsteps moving away from him, and then her voice calling back, "Think about it, Scorpius."
Cassie Miller dropped her head into her hands.
Training was long over, but she had not so much as unlaced her boots. Every part of her ached, and her jersey was soaked in sweat. At the sound of a knock on the door of the changing room, she did not lift her head, but called out through her fingers, "Who is it?"
"It's just me," returned the voice of James Potter, and Cassie groaned inwardly. He was the last person she wanted to see her right now, like this, but still, she said reluctantly,
"Come in."
James obeyed, sliding the door closed behind him. He was clad in school robes, despite its being Saturday, and looked unusually serious.
"I'm guessing you were watching from the stands?" Cassie said wearily, and he nodded, with a grimace. "Merlin, talk about a nightmare of a session. Even your sister was off her game, and we barely used the Snitch today. How we're supposed to play Ravenclaw next week..."
"You'll get there." James cocked his head sympathetically. "You might be at a disadvantage at the moment, but so's Ravenclaw. They missed out on training, too, during the week that the school was closed."
"But they haven't lost their captain," Cassie said pointedly. Looking down, James was silent, leaning his body against the doorframe. She sighed. "If only you could play with us."
"Yeah, well, I forfeited that right when I beat Carlos Santini to a bloody pulp. And you're as good as captain now, Cassie." At her snort, "What? It's true. You should go for it next year."
"I'm not sure if I'll be around next year," Cassie said vaguely.
"What do you mean?"
She looked up at James, who was regarding her curiously, then looked at her hands, which still bore her gloves. Considering, she began to pull them off. "That's funny. I didn't mean to say that out loud."
"You're thinking of dropping out?"
"I don't think I can face another year of this place."
"Because of what happened with the Truthseekers?"
Cassie frowned, but then shook her head, pulling her gearbag off the bench and placing her gloves inside. "To be honest, no. Because of my mum."
"Oh yeah, of course," James said. "You said she was putting pressure on you about grades?"
"Grades, everything..." Cassie began to fasten her gearbag, then paused. "I think I want to move out altogether. Get out there on my own. Join a few Quidditch teams - maybe the Holyhead Harpies. I've got a bit of money saved up, and I'll be seventeen soon." As she spoke the words, a delicious vision of freedom opened up in her mind, and she was briefly transported by it.
When she returned to earth, James was smiling, a little. "Good for you, Miller." He hesitated, then, "Listen, as long as we're being honest..."
Cassie looked at him expectantly, her hands still poised over the gearbag.
"Can I sit?" He indicated the bench.
"Er - sure." James sat, a few inches away from her, and leaned his elbows on his knees. The smile had faded, and that serious expression was back on his face. "I've been thinking a lot about... things, recently, and I realised something."
Cassie felt her heart begin to flutter in anticipation. Was he going to say it - at last? Was he going to admit that all that time, even when he had been with Summer, he had only ever loved -
"I'm being unfair to you."
"What?" Cassie whirled around to stare at him, unable to conceal her disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
James looked her in the eye. She saw him swallow, his throat bob, and then, "I've been using you."
"I don't know what you mean," she said, shaking her head.
"This - this thing that we have," he went on, gesturing between them. "It has to stop. It's not... you deserve better."
Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose, screwing up her forehead. "You mean, I deserve someone who likes me? And you don't?"
"Well, I - I do like you, Cass. As a friend. You're very important to me, but I just..."
"I'm an idiot," Cassie murmured, more to herself than to him. She pushed off the bench.
"Wait, Cassie, you're not - "
"She warned me," Cassie continued feverishly, slinging the gear bag over her shoulder. "Everyone warned me, and I wouldn't listen... and you said no labels - Merlin, I'm an idiot."
"Don't blame yourself, Cassie..."
"I don't." She spun around to face him again. "I blame you. You choose to tell me this now, a few days before we have this big match - "
"How could I leave it any longer?" James said, spreading his hands helplessly. "I didn't want to go on deceiving you."
"Oh, don't give me that. You - " Cassie stopped, sucked in her breath, counted to three, but it was no use; her face contorted and she felt a moistness in her eyes. Not this on top of everything else - she was an ugly crier. Now she saw genuine pain in James's face as he regarded her. "I have to go."
"Cassie, I'm sorry..."
"Leave me alone!" she shouted, as though she were five years old. Indeed, she felt about that age as she slammed the door of the changing room behind her and broke into a run across the Quidditch pitch.
Despite what he had said, Scorpius did think about Nina's suggestion. He thought about it for the rest of the evening, after he had returned from a series of unsuccessful attempts to get his broom off the ground, and he thought about it as he lay in bed that night, Santini's snoring loud in his ears.
The morning dawned colder than the last, and Scorpius greeted it as he had before, by the Thestrals. This time, it not Rose who sought him out there, but Nina.
"Well?" she said as she approached him over the dewy grass. "Have you thought about it?"
"I have." Scorpius patted the neck of the nearest Thestral, and Nina, who could not see the creatures, followed the movement with some confusion.
"And?"
"I'll probably regret it," he said shortly. "But yes. I'll come."
He was taken aback when Nina threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. It was the first time she had ever done so, in their years of friendship, and as she pulled back and Scorpius saw the relief written over her face, he realised how important this was to her.
"We'll leave straight away," she said. "Come on, the Auror Broadmoor assigned us is waiting inside."
It was strange, being in London and not visiting his own house. They passed within a few streets of it, and Scorpius regarded the turn-off, thinking of his father, who would be spending his nights there, whenever he wasn't being questioned at the Ministry.
"We can drop in, if you want," Nina said, guessing the direction of his thoughts, but he shook his head at once.
"Let's keep going."
She gave him a curious look, but did not argue. They walked briskly, as the sun rose in the sky behind them, the streets beginning to fill up with people. Passing through Piccadilly Circus, Nina turned her head to regard the huge neon signs, and Scorpius smiled.
"Believe me, if you saw those every day, you would not find them as interesting."
"I take my thrills in life where I can get them," she retorted, and then, turning to the Auror who strode beside them, conspicously sombre even in Muggle clothes, "How close are we?"
"About a minute away," he replied curtly, the first words he had spoken since they had Apparated from the village. Sure enough, as they reached the end of the busy junction and passed onto a quieter street near Whitehall, they came within sight of the little red telephone box.
Nina turned to look at Scorpius. "Are you ready for this?"
"Not even remotely," he responded, and they proceeded, the Auror falling a little distance behind them.
"This always reminds me of Doctor Who," Nina gushed, as soon as the three of them were inside the telephone box. Then, at the blank looks of the two other wizards, "Oh, I forgot you don't get Muggle references."
"She babbles when she's nervous," Scorpius said to the Auror, who smiled wryly as he keyed in the code on the pad.
"I do not!" Nina protested, as the box began to move downwards.
Scorpius had often been brought to the Ministry by his mother when he was younger, to visit her office in the Obliviator Headquarters. He noted that it had not changed much since then. The Atrium was packed with witches and wizards even at this early hour, and after their wands had passed inspection, they jostled and shoved for some time before they reached a lift. They stepped behind the golden grilles, the chatter of officials washing over them.
"... Stephen did send me that memo but I'd forgotten completely about it..."
"... that maintenance bloke must have a grudge against me, my window has shown nothing but rain this past month..."
"... if these don't get down to her office by nine she said she'll sack someone..."
The lift emptied as they descended deeper, and soon it was just Scorpius, Nina and the Auror in stony silence. At last, the grilles opened, and the disembodied female voice announced, "Department of Mysteries."
The instant they stepped into the black marble hall, Scorpius felt the oppression of his surroundings. His chest constricted as the Auror swept them along, under the eerie blue light, and Nina clutched his arm discreetly. Then they had swung to the left, descending the stone steps to the next level, and the light changed to the warm glow of bracketed torches.
The Auror led them past the courtroom doors, all of which stood bolted, and down another, narrower flight of steps, which brought them to a dark-tiled, circular corridor set with gilded gates at regular intervals. The murmur of prisoners' voices reached them here, and Scorpius halted, but the Auror tugged them on, shaking his head.
"Isn't this the Detention area?" Nina hissed.
"Only prisoners who have been convicted are held there. Your friends haven't had their trials yet." The Auror spoke in a low voice, and as they passed through another door in a second corridor, this one with regular dimensions, he put a finger to his lips.
Scorpius felt a prickle on the back of his neck as he regarded the doors lining either side of the corridor in which they stood. Each one was carved of black wood, bore a name, and a set of double grilles in the centre that could be opened or closed. He saw a guard hover a bowl of food into one of the nearest ones, then close the grille again and glance at them briefly, eyes dark, before passing on. Turning to look at the door, Scorpius saw with a shock that it bore the name of Theodore Nott.
Further down the corridor, Nina halted outside the door that read Penny Alderton's name, biting her lip. Scorpius put a hand on her shoulder.
"You'll get a minute each," the Auror said from behind them, surprising them both with the loudness of his voice in the dead quiet. "Unfortunately I can't give you much privacy."
"That's fine," Nina said, and turning to look at Scorpius, her eyes said Find Jem.
One of the cell guards preceded him to Jeremy Sharpwood's door, knocking on the wood before opening the grille and announcing his presence. Scorpius stood back waiting, every muscle in his body tensely coiled, until the guard drew back and gave him a nod. Then he moved forward, each step feeling heavier than the last, and stood before the grille.
He was surprised, when Jeremy Sharpwood's face appeared through the grille, at the rush of feeling that swept over him. He had expected to feel angry, but instead all he could see was the dim bareness of the cell that he could glimpse behind his friend, and at last he heard himself say, in a voice full of emotion,
"How are you?"
Jeremy Sharpwood inclined his head. "I've been better." One hand went up to his left temple, and Scorpius saw for the first time the poppy bruise there. "That was quite a blow you gave me, back in Hobspawn's office."
You Stunned him, I suppose? Your own best friend, Scorpius? That's low.
"Hobspawn's dead now," Scorpius said, very quickly.
"Yes, I know. I heard." Jem gazed out at him from behind his glasses. Scorpius noticed that the lens were dusty, and felt another rush of sympathy.
"Has your family been to see you?"
"Earlier today. My mum and sister. They're furious at me, as you might expect." Jem appeared to shift on his feet, making a scuffing noise on the stone. "Couldn't believe I would do something so stupid."
Nor could I, Scorpius thought, but he did not say it. Instead, in a tone of faint reassurance, "You won't get as bad a sentence as them. As Orchid and Torrance. You were only an accessory."
Jem weighed this, then said, "I'm sorry about your cousin."
Your cousin. Suddenly, Scorpius remembered why he should feel angry with Jem - Jem, who had been accessory to a plan that had resulted in Tobias's death. He willed that anger to being, but it would not come. And so, instead, he just nodded.
"How's school?" Jem asked.
"Oh, it's - it's pretty mad these days. Broadmoor's acting Headmaster, and they've had to get a substitute Potions professor in. We don't have Alchemy anymore, of course."
"Pity," Jem said. "I liked Alchemy."
"Yeah, me too." Something occurred to Scorpius. "Will you be able to get classes? In - Azkaban?"
"I think I can sign up for them," Jem said thoughtfully. "If not, I have my books, anyway. I'll have... a lot of time to think."
"Good. You'll like that." There was a long silence, during which neither of them could think of anything further to say, until Jem at last, with another jerky movement of his shoulders, said,
"Why did you come to see me?"
Scorpius stared back at his friend. "I don't know," he said brusquely.
"Well, thanks, I suppose."
"Good luck in your hearing."
Jem nodded, and withdrew, closing his side of the grille. Scorpius swallowed, hard, as the Auror came up beside him, taking his arm. "Come on. Time to go."
Nina was wiping her eyes when they came to her at Penny's door. She did not say anything, but fell into step beside them. They had almost reached the end of the corridor when there came the sound of a grille scraping open, and a voice hailing them.
"Malfoy, is that you?"
Slowly, Scorpius turned, recognising Torrance Bole's voice. He saw his broad face in the grille of the second door to his left. "Sorry about little Toby, mate," he said. "That was too bad."
The anger came then, fierce and hot, and Scorpius surged forward towards the door, his teeth bared in fury before the Auror jerked him back roughly. Torrance's face disappeared as one of the guards hurried past them and closed his side of the grille again, and the sound of it slamming shut with finality echoed in their ears long after they had left Level 10.
(***)
Darkness shuddered past the windows, faster and faster. The lights overhead flickered, and Nina turned her face up to look at them.
"I shouldn't have lost it back there," Scorpius said, and she glanced back at him. He sat next to her, his satchel at his feet. The taciturn Auror was on their other side. After they had left the Ministry, he had suggested that they get the Underground back to the Leaky Cauldron. Exhausted from the visit, the two Slytherins had readily agreed. "It was what Torrance wanted."
"I don't know about that," she said. "I mean, I don't know if he was trying to taunt you. I think he was being... genuine."
"It's impossible to know with Torrance." Scorpius sighed, drumming his fingers on his legs. The underground train slowed, lights flickering again, and thrummed to a halt, the automated doors sliding open and a woman's voice announcing, "Leicester Square." Nina made a move to rise from her seat, but both Scorpius and the Auror shook their heads. "Next stop over." She sagged into her seat again, and they lapsed into silence once more.
"Jem told me he was sorry too," Scorpius said, after a little while.
"About what happened to Tobias? Or about - the other stuff?"
"About Tobias." A pause. "He says he's going to read a lot, while he's, you know..."
"In Azkaban," Nina finished, and then shook her head. "Merlin, when did our lives get so insane."
"He's of age," Scorpius went on, "So he's going to get a few years, at least."
"What about your dad? How long is he going to get?"
"I don't know. I don't want to think about it."
"I don't want to think about our friends spending the foreseeable future holed up in a wizard prison, but somehow, that doesn't stop me thinking about it!" Nina glared at him, then, after a moment, put a hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm tired, I suppose."
"Don't be sorry." Scorpius leaned his head back against the window, then thought better of it as the reverberations of the glass rattled right into his skull. He lifted it again, looked at Nina. "How was Penny?"
"She... barely said a word. But I think she was glad to see me. I barely recognised her."
"The Wizengamot won't give her life, since she's still underage."
Nina breathed in through her nose, then out. "I wish she hadn't..."
"I know."
"No, but you see she and I, I hoped that someday we'd - "
"I know," Scorpius said again, and she stared at him. "I've known for a while about you."
"You have?"
"Mmhm. And Jem, too."
"And you didn't say anything."
"Well, it never came up." There was another pause, and he said, "But you know there'll be more, Nina. She's not the only one. And you - deserve better."
She lifted her eyes to his, weary and dismayed, and then nodded. The Underground hurtled on.
Rose sat on the cold stone of the Owlery, with her half-finished letter to Scorpius sitting on her lap - the one she had begun yesterday morning, before she knew he was back. She looked down at the lines that her quill had produced and tried to wish herself back in that moment, before she had seen that look in his eyes.
But now, as she gazed around at the slits of evening sky peeping into the high stone walls, she wished herself back even further. She wished herself right back to a moment before Christmas, when she had stood here in her pyjamas, gazing at Scorpius as he stood with his back to her, with one hand on the sill.
She had wished then that he would stop looking at her like a spoilt princess. And then he had stopped.
Rose unfolded herself and stood, crossing to the stone sill where he had stood, placing her hand on the stone and closing her eyes. She wished now that she would hear his footsteps on the stone behind her. Hesitant, and halting. And then his voice. He would make some dry comment, but with a secret warmth behind the words. Like, Why am I not surprised to find you here. And she would tilt her head and look at him with concern and say, How was the Ministry?
Scorpius would shrug, and say, I don't really want to talk about it. And then they would have one of their charged silences. He would look at her quietly the whole time, until at last she crossed the room to stand before him, and he would put out a hand and lift a curl from the side of her face and say, "You said your feelings had changed." She would say, "Yes."
And then -
Slowly, Rose opened her eyes. She looked down at her hand, still resting on the stone sill. And then, she turned, and there was the Owlery behind her. No one stood by the door, watching her. She was alone.
Scorpius was not coming for her.
Paper rustled by her long skirt, and she looked down to see that she still clutched the letter. She crumpled it in her hand, and Duke gave a hoot of annoyance from his perch, but Rose was already walking away, her steps slapping against the stone.
As she walked through the castle, Rose turned her head to look at the paintings on the walls as she passed, and felt as though she were seeing them for the first time. She saw moments captured in watercolours and oils: a woman on a swing, two little girls gambolling in a garden beneath a vast purpling sky, a bird soaring into gold-tipped clouds, a knight charging through forest, a cottage with a jack o'lantern glow within its windows.
There was beauty in each of those moments, but also a great... emptiness. For the figures captured within them were stuck within their frames, destined to repeat the same actions over and over. Rose felt tears come to her eyes at the thought, and another painting came to her mind's eye: a young man, with a hand on a sill and his back to her. She sped up her pace.
Nina was at the same table in the library that she had left her earlier, her head bent over books. She looked up, her forehead wrinkling in vague annoyance as Rose approached her, leaning over the table.
"I need the password to your common room."
"You know we're not allowed to give those out, especially now..." Nina began tiredly, but Rose put out a hand and grasped hers, squeezed it tightly.
"I need it. Nina, please."
Nina Meyer looked at her, a shadow on her face. "He doesn't want to see you. He doesn't want to see anyone."
"I need it," Rose said again, and at last, Nina gave in, scribbling something on a piece of parchment and handing it to her.
"You're an idiot, Weasley."
"I know," Rose said, and she smiled a little as she put the parchment in her pocket and nodded to Nina. "I know."
It grew colder as she descended into the bowels of the castle, passing the wreck of the monument in the Entrance Hall and hurrying down the steps into the dungeons, feeling the torchlight on her face like a familiar friend. When she reached the entrance, she looked down at the parchment, read out the word, Ekrisdis, and watched as a door materialised before her.
Rose pushed it open with her hand, stepped inside, and paused.
The common room was quiet. Green water ebbed past the windows, lengths of seaweed waved through the glass, and he was there, sitting with his head in his hands. She felt the urge to run, but still she pressed forward, until she stood on the carpet before him.
"I don't want to talk," came his voice, muffled through his fingers, and Rose nodded, drew her legs under her skirt and sat. Scorpius stayed where he was, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.
"You shouldn't be here," he said after a while, and Rose nodded again.
At last, he looked at her, his eyes bloodshot, his skin blotchy. Nothing like a portrait. "Why aren't you saying anything?"
She looked at him steadily. "You said you didn't want to talk."
"Yeah, I did, but..." Scorpius shook his head, covering his eyes with his hands again. Rose shifted on the carpet until she was kneeling, closer to him. Tentatively, the material of her skirt pooled beneath her on the carpet, she put her arms around him. He stiffened, then, after a long moment, he rested his forehead against her shoulder. Rose tightened her grip on him, straightening up where she knelt, and slowly, his arms crept around her. Gently, she moved a hand over his hair, and he kept his face concealed in her shoulder.
"You don't have to say a word," Rose whispered. "Not a word."
"The last match of the year - this is the one we've all been waiting for, folks! Will you look at that turn-out? And here they come now, the Gryffindors onto the pitch, led by Cassie Miller, their acting captain - we all thought they'd be lost without James Potter, but it looks like they've still got game! Let's hear it for the red and gold!"
A roar of applause issued from the stands - or, under ordinary circumstances, it would have been a roar. Rose Weasley, who was caught up in the midst of it as she found her seat, felt it to be more of a hearty cheer. Impressive, but not up to usual standards of Gryffindor support. For there were many empty spots today, on both sides of the stands. It was hardly surprising.
"The rain's held off for this long, so let's hope for a nice, clean game today, ladies and gents! Now let me hear you give it up for the blue and bronze - here they come, and the two captains are about to shake hands, but wait - what?" The commentator's voice cut off from the megaphone briefly, and Rose, Nina and Albus exchanged confused glances. There was an uncomfortable murmuring, and when Tracy Towers' voice filled the pitch once more, it was in sombrer tones.
"I've just had a request for a minute's silence in respect for our former Headmaster, Godfrey Hobspawn, and our former classmate Tobias Greengrass."
A hush fell over the stands, as suddenly as though someone had thrown a blanket over it and muffled all sound. Rose felt her throat catch, and she watched as, one by one, the players on the pitch lowered their heads, their broomsticks still clutched in their hands. She saw her cousin's lips move as though she were praying, and Cassie's eyes were tightly shut where she stood.
When the minute was over, the captains moved forward and shook hands, at which point the broomsticks lifted off from the ground and an explosion of cheers pierced the silence.
"I had no idea they were going to do that," James remarked, a pair of Omnioculars already obscuring his eyes. "I don't think Miller did either. She handled it well."
"It was nice," Nina Meyer said, and Rose said nothing at all. She didn't know what she thought, really. But she was glad to see that Nina, at least, seemed to be enjoying things again. Her trip to the Ministry a few days back had evidently done her good.
"Have I missed anything?"
She turned in disbelief to see Scorpius picking his way along their row. He was wearing a black jacket with the collar turned up, and his blond hair was uncombed. As he slipped into the seat beside her, James asked, without taking his eyes off the Omnioculars, "Who are you supporting, then, Malfoy?"
Scorpius looked at Rose. Then he pulled his collar down so that they could see he bore a red and gold necktie. "Gryffindor, of course."
"A wise choice," Albus pronounced, and Nina snorted.
"Yeah, because they'd lynch you out of these stands otherwise."
"Well, that's the only reason I'm supporting your House, I assure you," Scorpius said, still looking at Rose. "Fear of lynching." He smiled at her, a little tentatively, and she realised that he was making a joke.
"Feeling better?" she asked quietly.
"Considerably." His grey eyes flicked downwards, then back up to hers, as he said with warmth, "Thank you."
"I didn't do anything," Rose protested, but Scorpius shook his head, and reaching out, took a hold of her hand under the seats. "You did."
Rose struggled to keep her thoughts coherent at the touch of her hand. There was something wrong; she tried to pinpoint it, and then she knew. "If you're talking about me Healing you..."
"I'm talking about what you did last night. Being there with me. I'm grateful."
Beside them, James sighed loudly, lowering his Omnioculars. "What are you lot muttering about?"
"So you're not - still angry with me?" Rose asked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger nervously.
Scorpius looked down at her. "I was never angry at you. I was just... I wasn't sure how you felt. What you wanted."
"Really, you lot," James said grumpily, "If you want to have a private conversation - "
Rose threw herself at Scorpius's neck, and he reared backwards in surprise as she kissed him on the mouth, fiercely and insistently. As he recovered, his hands found her shoulders, then her hair, and he leaned forward into the kiss, his arms curving around her back possessively.
"Well, it's about bloody time," Nina Meyer muttered.
"Ugh," James said, putting his Omnioculars up to his eyes again with a shudder. "Speak for yourself, Meyer. No one needs to see that."
"I'm inclined to agree," Albus said, with a nervous glance around at their neighbours on the stands, who had begun to laugh and point. "Maybe you two could save it for later?"
"I want you," Rose said as she broke away from Scorpius's lips, kissing his cheek instead, his forehead. "You."
"That's good to hear, Weasley," he said fondly. "Though I am loath to remind you that you're leaning on a sore spot right now."
Rose gasped. "Your injury. I'm so sorry." She pulled herself off him, back into the bounds of her own seat, and Scorpius frowned.
"Well, I didn't exactly say to do that..."
"For God's sake, you two," James said, just as a cheer went up on the Ravenclaw side of the stands. "If you need to go off together, just do. We'll tell you how the match goes."
Rose looked at Scorpius, who raised his eyebrows, and then back at James. "Really? Do you think Cassie will mind?"
"I think," her cousin said deliberately, "You should be more worried about what I mind right now - and I definitely mind this." Gesturing vaguely towards them with one hand, he kept the Omnioculars secure with the other.
"I'm with James on this," Albus said at once, with something like a wince.
"Meyer?" Scorpius said expectantly, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, and she simply rolled her eyes at him.
"You're an idiot, Malfoy. And so's Weasley."
"Finally," James said, "Something we can all agree on." And Scorpius stood, made a mock bow, and held out his hand for Rose to take. She looked up at him, looked at the players on the pitch, then finally at James, Albus and Nina, and she took it.
"I take full credit for those two," Nina Meyer said, as the three watched the retreating figures of Rose and Scorpius, weaving their way through crowds of jubilant Gryffindors at the edge of the pitch, as a cheer went up once more, this time along their side of the stands.
"Oh, please," James replied. "I called it long before you did."
"Excuse me?"
"It's true! Come on, Al, back me up here..."
"I know I have a brotherly duty to support you and all that, but James, I really don't know how I'm supposed to back you up in this particular claim."
"Yeah, do you have any proof, Potter?"
"Proof? Who needs proof? Do you have proof?"
"I don't need proof. What I have are excellent matchmaking skills."
"Yeah! Well, so have I! Wait - I really just said that, Al, didn't I?"
"I believe you did. Maybe magical law isn't for you after all, James. Maybe your calling lies elsewhere..."
The grounds were peaceful after the chaos of the stands, and Rose and Scorpius walked slowly, side by side, their hands joined. A gentle breeze danced along the tops of the grasses, reached the lake as they watched, turning the smooth glass into a thousand wrinkles. At the other side, towards the trees by Hagrid's hut, the herd of Thestrals were still grazing, and Rose found her eye drawn to them.
"We have a lot to talk about," she said at last, and Scorpius smiled, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Do we?"
