Happy New Year and we're back with another chapter! As usual the beta was courtesy of incredibly talented TheChirpyWitch. Considering how long this last one turned out, it's a wonder she still puts up with me (ily)!
Last chapter there were a million super nice reviews for which I'm super grateful, including from some new readers which was like whoa! Also a lot of new subscribers and followers! Thanks so much guys, I really appreciate it, you know I'm a sucker for external validation :)
Chapter 16 is a transition chapter into Act 2 and it was particularly difficult to get out, which is probably why it's so long. From the looks of it, it'll be a while until WS ends and, while I can't exactly predict when or how it'll end (I really don't know myself), I can at least promise that there will be no bullshitty complications thrown in just to make it last.
As a sidenote I copied WS over to Ao3 and I'll be maintaining both versions. I've also been slowly reviewing and updating some of the earlier chapters (mostly 1-3), so it's perfectly normal if you notice some changes.
January 3rd, 2028
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a pain in the arse?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you're the worst invalid?"
"I'm the lowest maintenance patient ever," she yelled indignantly, her voice cracking. "You're the one who won't stop bothering me!"
The pair of them locked eyes and glared at each other.
It was the new state of affairs in the household: a lot of pointless yelling and arguing over things like food, medicine or sleep. Rose Weasley's running theory was that she wasn't in fact human and that of course she could survive without them.
Scorp now realized why she disliked people fussing over her: she was a big bloody baby and possibly the worst, most difficult sick person in the entire world. The most pragmatic person couldn't help but fuss over her because she kept (purposefully) forgetting to take her bloody medicine and to drink her damned tea if one wasn't constantly reminding her about it.
At some point Scorp had given up the reminders. It was pointless to remind someone who didn't want to be reminded and who would downright ignore said reminders.
"I swear to Morgana," he barked, "if you don't swallow this damned potion I'll shove it down your throat!"
"I am bloody fine!"
She was nuttier than a fruitcake. A cranky, foul-tempered fruitcake.
If the ever-growing pile of tissues next to her and the fact that her own room still wouldn't let her go in were any indication, then no, she was the exact opposite of fine.
Scorp sat down next to her on the makeshift couch-bed that was still adorning their living room.
He uncorked the vial with his thumb and put on his meanest face. "We're either doing this the easy way," he threatened, handing her the yellow potion, "or the hard way. Which one is it?"
She eyed him with that same petulant, childish look she'd been giving him since he'd suggested she should maybe eat something and, for a few seconds, he was rather concerned he would actually have to force it down her throat.
He wasn't entirely sure he could achieve that without getting his face scratched in the process.
Relief washed over him as she took the vial from his hand.
Small victories. It was all about small victories.
"There." She downed its contents and handed him the empty vial, scowling. "Happy?"
"Exceptionally." He got up to his feet without even looking at her - he wanted to smack her so hard. "See you again in three hours."
She had been far less trouble back when she'd been screaming.
"Al, you need to come home," Scorp moaned into the MagiTech. "She hasn't the slightest sense of self-preservation. She won't sleep, she won't eat, she won't even-"
How she had even survived thus far would always remain a mystery to him.
"Driving you batty, is she?" Al interrupted him mid-sentence. He sounded amused, the wanker. "I did tell you to come over to Yard's."
"Who the hell would look after her if I did?"
It wasn't like Al was around to do it, the spineless tosser. He was more of a hands-off kind of friend. He was really great at some things, like making sure your shower faucet wasn't leaking and listening to endless complaints about irresponsible nutcases.
However, when it was actually required of him to step up and make sure said irresponsible nutcases lived to see their twenty-second birthday, he was the flakiest, least reliable son of a witch.
"My, my, Scorp, is that concern I hear? I seem to recall a time when you wouldn't give a flying fuck about whether my dearest cousin lived or died."
That had been before she'd become his bloody friend.
Unlike Al, he wasn't hands-off. He couldn't just bail on her, no matter how much of a cow she was being. He was invested now.
Merlin, he really knew how to pick them, didn't he?
"Fuck off," he groaned, examining the box of crackers he was holding. "What the hell do I do?"
Maybe if he charmed them into animal shapes she could be tricked into eating them? It seemed to work for small children. Judging by the tantrums she'd been throwing, she qualified as a bloody baby.
"You have two options here," Al started, a smile in his voice, "you can either keep shoveling food into her and hope she doesn't bite your hand in the process or... you can do what I do and ignore the fact that she's working herself to a slow but certain death."
"How the hell can you?"
"It's her life, mate." Scorp could practically hear Al shrugging from the other end of the line. "She's entitled to live it any stupid way she wants."
Yes, that was all good and well for Al who had known her since they'd both been in diapers. He was also safely tucked away at Yardley's place, no doubt doing body shots off scantily dressed blondes. If she died however, Scorp would be the one the entire Weasley-Potter-Granger-Delacour clan would go after, brandishing freshly sharpened machetes.
"Can't you say anything?"
"What's there to say? She doesn't actually listen. I don't think she knows better, it's just the way she's wired." The other end of the line went silent for a couple of seconds. "She's doing the best she can, mate."
"Al, she keeps forgetting to eat. Who the hell forgets to eat?!"
"She does. She also forgets to sleep, exercise, take her vitamins and anything that's good for her." Al chuckled, in a 'Oh, Rose' sort of way. "But I can bet you she didn't forget to pay our bill this month."
Scorp knew for a fact she hadn't. Amidst scourgifying after him and changing his pajamas, she'd somehow found the time to owl every single one of their service providers with an enclosed Gringotts order.
"What is wrong with her?"
"She once told me cardio and healthy diets were for other people, not Healers," Al mused. "Do what I say, not what I do kind of thing."
Which was why she reminded him of his potions but couldn't be bothered to take hers.
"But that's, that's..." Scorp stuttered, "absurd! I just-"
"Mate, you have five more days of forced leave. Maybe you should stop obsessing about my cousin's self-destructive habits and focus on the fact that you didn't tell your dad about Puddlemere."
There was of course that.
He'd been pushing the subject far, far into the deepest recesses of his mind, close to That One Time He'd Missed A Crucial Bat And They'd Lost The Game and under the dusty pile of Embarrassing Teenage Moments He'd Really Rather Forget.
Whenever he thought about going back to work he became downright queasy.
"I'm not going to tell him, Al."
"I know, you wanker." There was a small silence on the other side of the line. "I talked to Rose earlier. You know what she whined about?"
"Me?"
"Nope. Didn't even mention you."
"Oh." That was surprising and also a tad disappointing for some reason. "Really?"
"Yes. She talked about St. Mungo's and how stressed she is about some upcoming exam or whatever." Al paused for a few seconds, as if waiting for some sort of brilliant conclusion. "She misses it. She wants to go back to her boring paperwork and her sniffling patients."
"Your point being...?"
"You on the other hand haven't once mentioned your job, which leads me to think that maybe, just maybe you don't want to go back…?"
Scorp coughed uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Maybe I don't."
"Which means you know you need to quit and you're bloody pushing it off, you chicken-shit."
"What are you now, clairvoyant?" Scorp stuttered, words failing him. Every once in a while Al was inconveniently insightful. "I don't-"
"You know I'm right, Scorp. Get on with it."
Scorp supposed at some point he would have to. How did one get about quitting one's dream job without feeling like a complete lunatic?
Al laid down the MagiTech on the counter of Yardley's kitchen and looked around him. The usually spotless kitchen was covered in empty bottles and sparkly, still faintly singing confetti. They'd really gone all out this time, hadn't they?
"What time is it?" Yardley walked into the kitchen in his boxer shorts, rubbing a hand through his dishevelled hair. He looked like shit. "Was that them?"
"Yeah," Al replied, smiling a little at the wretched looking apparition. "It seems Rose is making Scorp's life miserable."
"Predictable. You did tell him to come over, didn't you?"
"I did."
Considering the overall state of the place, maybe it was best that he didn't. Scorp would blow a gasket if he saw this. He'd just start frantically cleaning everything and make them clean as well.
Al wasn't sure his hangover would mix well with cleaning charms. He might really die from it.
"So he's staying?" Yardley opened the fridge and removed the milk carton. He glared at the expiry date and placed it back. "Doesn't want to abandon her, does he?"
Dependable wanker, Scorp was. Wouldn't lift a finger to help a stranger, but would walk barefoot on burning coals for a friend. Funny to think he'd ever consider Rose to be part of that select group.
"Yep." Al smacked his lips, his eyes wandering blindly over the pile of rubbish that had spontaneously grown on the corner of the kitchen since the previous night. "This place is a mess."
"It is," Yardley solemnly agreed, carelessly starting to float a few of the bottles toward the corner. "We should go out for breakfast."
Translation: there weren't any clean plates and Yardley couldn't be arsed to wash them.
"Sure thing."
"We'll clean later."
Translation: Horace would clean later.
"You still haven't told them, have you?" Yardley casually stretched his arms over his head, in an obvious attempt to mask his concern for Al's well-being.
Translation: was Al going to cry and, if so, could he do it over at his own place?
He wasn't an idiot, he knew Yards had been jumping through hoops for the past few days to keep him busy. Hence the endless stream of partying, hence the fact that they'd been having breakfast and lunch in a different city every day since Christmas, hence the hangovers they'd been stockpiling for the past week.
He wasn't sure how much more of Yardley's concern his liver could take.
The envelope still felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. He really should toss it, but whenever he tried he found that he couldn't.
"No."
"Are you going to?"
Al pondered the question for a few seconds. "No."
"Okay."
Good friend, Yards. Didn't feel the need to talk about it like Rose and Scorp would have. Which was why he was choosing to stick around. It wasn't specifically that he didn't want to put up with a sick Rose - though it was a little because of that too, she was rather impossible when she was ill - but more than that, he didn't want to be around them with that stupid card in his pocket.
Because then he'd tell them about the card, and he really wasn't up for that.
Not yet.
That stupid Christmas card was still bothering him, that much Yardley could tell. Nevertheless, it was hard to tell the difference between heartbreak and a hangover and he'd been working very, very hard to make sure Al was either three sheets to the wind or actively recovering from being three sheets to the wind.
Hopefully Al's internal organs were melting by now and he couldn't think of anything but that.
Yardley racked his mind trying to come up with yet another activity to keep Al busy - maybe they could go to Budapest, that was always a classic. Were the birds in Budapest blondes or brunettes? He couldn't recall.
Maybe to be on the safe side they should go somewhere less white. Somewhere where no one had stupid bouncy blonde curls or wore bloody purple pashminas.
Madagascar was supposed to be lovely this time of year.
"How does Madagascar sound for breakfast?"
"Yards, it's almost five p.m. It's bound to be later in Madagascar."
"Brunch, then," he replied airily, tossing a discarded tissue paper in Al's general direction. "Feel good enough to Floo to the Intersection?"
The Intersection was a bothersome piece of magic they'd installed in London somewhere in the past two years. It was supposed to regulate the international floo network but it was simply a tiresome hellhole because now you had to go over and show papers and whatnot, and Portkey your way out, rather than spontaneously flooing to places like before.
It was all rather aggravating. In Yardley's opinion, a few two-bit Death Eaters were hardly worth all this fuss.
Still, it had done wonders for his Portkey stocks.
"I'm alright... I think. I may puke when portkeying, though."
For once Yardley felt like he might have enjoyed a quiet day in, nursing his headache and trying to forget the fact that his stomach seemed to be sewn inside out. However, noblesse oblige, and he wasn't going to have Al moping around the way he had been before they'd started this rollercoaster of insane boozing and trashy one night stands.
He wondered if he should accidentally set Al on fire and burn that stupid card.
Fucking witch with a capital B, being the bigger person, waving the white flag and whatnot. Proving to herself and everyone that all was well, that there was no resentment on her side, that she was a bloody emotionally balanced person who could compartmentalize and send bloody Christmas cards to her still healing ex-boyfriend, not a care in the world.
Wishing him a "Merry Christmas" and "Happy New Year" when she should keep hiding in whatever pit of hell she'd crawled out of.
How dare she? Thank Merlin those two were still unaware or they'd hunt her down and fuck her up.
Yardley sure as hell wanted to.
"You're obsessive," Scorp pointed out as he lugged another pile of books closer to the couch, lowering it to the ground within Rose's reach. "You should be recovering, not working."
"That pile needs to be on the left," Rose instructed, cramming the last animal shaped cracker into her mouth. They'd been so cute and she'd managed to trade her books for it, which was good. Maybe she could finally study now. "That's too far away."
"Swallow before you talk, you heathen," Scorp scolded as he floated the stack of books to the spot on the mattress she was pointing at. "Can't this wait until you're not all-" He looked over at her, his nose crinkling with disgust. "- gross?"
"For the millionth time, I'm feeling fi- Achoo!"
It would have been far more convincing if she hadn't sneezed in that precise moment, wouldn't it? Stupid body, betraying her like this.
"Yes, I can tell."
And another sneeze and another and another. Goddamnit.
He ungallantly tossed a box of tissues at her, amusement plain on his face. She took a few and blew her nose. Except, of course, that the blowing scratched her throat, which spiralled into a coughing fit and-
Merlin, she really couldn't catch a break these days, could she?
"Look at how fine you are."
"You do know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," she grumbled.
Except of course it sounded like 'sarcasb'.
"You're the lowest form of wit."
Rose cleared her throat, wincing at the mucus that seemed to be camping in her entire respiratory system nowadays. Stupid Shivers.
How was it fair that he'd been back on his feet almost immediately and she was still nursing a cold?
"Ha. Ha. Ha." Rose glared at him, taking another tissue and blowing her nose again. "Very mature."
"Yes, because you're maturity personified." Scorp took a seat next to her and gently placed a hand on her forehead. Rose could feel herself colouring and scowled back. "You feel a little hot. Did you take your potion? The green one?"
Stockholm Syndrome, that was all this was. She was simply going a little batty from all the soft pillows and lack of mental stimulus.
"Damnit, Scorp, I did!" She hadn't. At least she didn't remember taking it, but she wasn't about to tell him that, was she? "Just-" She scooted further away from him, her fingers firmly grabbing his hand and pulling it away from the general vicinity of her face. Not that holding his hand helped, really. "Can't you just leave me alone?"
She would kill for a cigarette. She'd managed to sneak one in the bathroom earlier and he'd practically chewed her head off, the man was like a pig sniffing for truffles. The worst part was that after a week of not smoking, it had tasted like dirt and hardly been worth all the trouble.
Still, whenever Scorp looked at her she felt a rather compelling need to pump her lungs full of smoke.
She really needed to go back to work. Leaving her brain idle apparently lead to her noticing Scorp, and she was having none of that. Boredom Crushes were a serious deal and she wasn't about to start fantasizing about her flatmate just because she didn't have anything better to think about.
She reached out to grab one of her books - Magical Ailments of All Shapes and Sizes - and held it against her chest like a shield, ready to whack away any intruding hands.
"It's just the one day," he scolded, getting up to his feet. "You could read something not Healing related, slow down a little, focus on getting better. You might even enjoy it."
The problem with slowing down was that it was hard to stop, as could be attested to by the fact that not two weeks ago she'd blown off work to spend a night sitting on her uncomfortable kitchen counter, eating cookies and sipping tea with bloody Scorpius Malfoy.
She'd had to practically crawl her way back the next day and it had been hell.
"Don't want to," she said, solemnly opening the book and looking at the pages without actually reading them. "Now shoo, I have to study and I just lost a whole week."
Dangerous Bites was looming in the horizon and Healer Horton was what they in the Healing community called a 'bloody wanker'. Like most Healers, he didn't have a single teaching bone in his body and he always made it clear in class that he'd rather be anywhere else, doing anything else.
He liked to ask questions that hadn't necessarily been covered in class or rounds just because he could.
Sadistic asswipe.
"What's the worst thing that could happen if you don't study?" He wasn't moving, apparently unaffected by her shooing. "I have Tales of Lost Time in my room, you know?"
Shit, shit, shit.
"Mum gave it to me for Christmas and I already tore through it."
Shit.
"It's really good. Come on, darling, you practically campaigned for Tales back in Sixth Year." He wasn't lying, she had. "You're the reason Al got into that hogwash, and consequently why I got into that hogwash."
Begone evil fiend, thou shalt not tempt me.
"Goddamnit, Malfoy, leave me alone." The very words were painful. "I have better things to do."
No she didn't, of course she didn't. Dangerous Bites was her weakest and least favourite subject of the lot and Tales… Tales was love, Tales was life.
The second and third volumes of the series had come out in the past three years and she'd bought them both the very day they'd hit the shelves, back when she had still been delusional enough to think she actually would read them.
They had lain on her bedside table, fresh and untouched until she'd hid them away because she couldn't bear the guilt anymore. Every time she had looked at them it was a fresh reminder of just how much she had changed that she couldn't find the time or mental capacity to read a single, damned book.
And now there was a fourth.
"You'll like it. It really ties all the loose ends together, it's rather nice."
A 'rather nice' fourth book that 'tied all the loose ends together'.
Her fingers twitched and she clasped Magical Ailments of All Shapes and Sizes tighter, as if it were some sort of protective talisman against temptation.
It wasn't working, though.
She wanted it. She yearned to spirit the book away right here and now and just hide under her covers devouring it and all its predecessors.
Unfortunately, she couldn't.
"Can't. Have no time."
She could feel her heart breaking at the carelessness of her tone. As if it didn't matter and she didn't care.
It mattered. She cared.
"Suit yourself," Scorp got up to his feet, shrugging. "Still, you're missing out. It's very good in that sort of overdone way Clarke does so well."
"Overdone?!" The word tumbled out before she could stop it, a testament to the indignation she was feeling. How dare he?! "Overdone?!"
"Yeah, you know how he enjoys going on endless tangents-"
"But that's the beauty of it! He always..."
And there it was again, the amused, smug look. He was baiting her, the bastard. Knowing full well what he was doing and she was falling for it, hook, line and sinker.
"Oh, come on, he writes well, but the info dumps about the setting get old after a while." There he was again, taunting her. Pushing her. "I mean, in the second book-"
"No, don't tell me!" The horror. "I haven't read any since Lost Soul so-"
"You haven't?!" Now he was also looking at her as if she'd grown a second head. "You pestered every single person you knew into reading it!"
"Yeah, but that was then!" Then, when she'd had the time, when reading had been like breathing. "Now I can't just-"
"You can't just what?" He was looking at her, eyebrows knit together and a shadow of a smile. "Don't tell me, St. Mungo's has a strict no reading policy whereby you must all be illiterate and-"
"I don't have the time!"
Why didn't anyone get it?!
She could feel the anger welling up in her chest, the angry-embarrassed flush creeping up her face.
"Sure, you do," he replied quietly, a grin tugging at his lips. "Right now you do."
"You don't-"
"I don't what?" Still with that annoying grin. That grin that had no right to be as charming as it was. "You have a few days until you go back. What's the harm?"
There was something desperate clawing at her chest, something like want. She stomped it down and smothered it.
"Just because I'm trapped here, the world doesn't stop spinning!" It was like they were speaking different languages again and she wanted to yell at him. "How can you not understand this?"
"Explain it to me, then. Because you usually just say you don't have time, and that's absurd. It's not like you sleep anyway." He started floating another pile of Healing books over to her, unaware of the fact that she was very close to throttling one at his head. "What could be so important that you can't take three hours to do something you actually like?"
"It's called an exam?" She wanted to hurt him now. He was trying to solve her in that odious way Al said he did. Poking at her life like it was some fun puzzle he was entitled to screwing around with. "I know you haven't had to pick up a book since we left Hogwarts so spare me the judgemental bullshit."
"Ah, yes, as a meatheaded, ignorant Quidditch Player I can't possibly understand the trials and tribulations you go through on a daily basis." Scowling, he let the books he was floating fall onto the mattress with unnecessary strength, causing the dust on them to rise in an angry cloud. "I am so sorry, Miss Weasley, for presuming-"
"Oh, come on!" Rose lowered the Magical Ailments to her lap. He sounded angrier than he should. "You know that's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?" He floated the pile of books he'd dumped and passive-aggressively started stacking them straight. "Mind you, use simple words, because otherwise I might not understand."
"Obviously I don't consider you stupid," she spat, scowling at him. "Do you really think I'd bother arguing with you if I did? It's just..." She hesitated. "It's just…"
"What?" He placed the last book and quirked his eyebrows at her, lips set in a thin line. "What is it?"
What was she supposed to tell him?
That everyone around her already had a topic for their Fifth Year Research and here she was, twiddling her thumbs and pretending she had it all under control? That even when she was resting, her brain was going into overdrive feeling guilty and thinking about all the things she should be doing instead?
Fuck that.
"What's the worst that could happen if you don't study today?" His tone softened. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip from it. Whatever had set him off was gone now and he was grinning at her again. "It's just an exam."
Just an exam?
Rose stared blankly at him for a few seconds, eyes wide with shock: she really, really needed a cigarette.
Maybe she could tell him she wanted some pudding or whatever bullshit would get him out of the house and she could sneak a cigarette in the kitchen. If she smoked with half her body out of the window he'd never know, would he?
She'd been refusing every offer of food thus far, so she doubted he'd believe she had a sudden craving for pumpkin pasties from some very specific shop on the other side of Wizarding London.
"I can't believe..." She finally stuttered. "It's not an exam. It's my life!"
"It's a test. It's not even your final test, we're in January, for Merlin's sake!"
He didn't get it. What was worse, he couldn't get it.
Some people, like Al, Scorp and Pen had been born with dreams. They'd accidentally stumbled upon whatever their one true passion was from a tender age and chased it with the frantic enthusiasm of a toddler on a sugar rush. They'd nurtured it, by dissecting frogs on the kitchen counter or batting toy Bludgers at their mum's expensive vases or experimenting with new spells on their unfortunate cousins. They didn't doubt for a second that it was what they were made for, their calling crushing any uncertainty that might have arisen.
Rose's so-called vocation had manifested by way of Hogwarts' career counselling and a series of frankly dicey tests with creative and not-at-all loaded questions such as 'would you rather clean owl droppings or brew a naertag potion?'.
In the end Healer was the verdict. There were plenty of doubts, misgivings and often disappointment. There was also an ever-pressing feeling of inadequacy and crippling fear of failure.
Which was why tests mattered. It was why grades mattered. They were objective proof that she was doing something right, that she hadn't in fact fucked up.
Which was something Scorpius Malfoy would never understand.
"Scorp, I'm just going to say this once." If she had to repeat it she might punch him in the face. "If you're going to be my friend you're going to have to accept the fact that my grades matter to me. I care about whether I have an Outstanding or not and I swear, if you have a problem with that, I-"
"Look, there's nothing wrong with that," he protested, raising his hands defensively. "It's the whole studying until you drop that I have an issue with!"
"You have your drills and batting practice and whatever else you Quidditch Players do," she pointed out. "I have this."
"It's not the same. I do my drills and then I come home and do whatever the hell I want. That's the nature of a job," he mansplained, rather obnoxiously, "you have to find a way to keep it separate from your personal-"
"I have to?" She glared at him. "I have to do nothing! Malfoy, I swear to Morgana, if you don't butt out of my life-"
"Malfoy?"
That was what he'd extracted from this conversation?
"You're being rather insufferable right now," she replied petulantly. "I think I'm allowed."
"I get that it's your life and that you've put a lot into it but come on, Rose, this can't be all you want for yourself!"
She didn't want anything for herself, not anymore. There was little in the way of long term goals in her life. She could hardly see her future beyond the Dangerous Bites exam.
"Oh, really? It can't?" Explaining one's lack of ambition to a Slytherin was as pointless as attempting to explain the concept of abstinence to Penny Nicholson - all you gained for your troubles were befuddled stares and a series of 'but whys'. It wasn't something they were wired to understand. "Merlin, I'd never considered that before, but now that you've shed light on the matter, like a beacon of hope-"
"Come on, Rose, you know that's not what I mean." He crouched down next to her, lips pursed with concern. He looked so earnest, it was painful. "I'm just saying this is nutty. I haven't seen you read anything other than Healing books since we moved! You used to always have your nose stuck in a book!"
"Yeah, it's shite," she agreed in what she hoped was a soothing tone. "It's supposed to get better, though. Next year there's less classes and tests and just… more research. But until then I can't just-"
"Yes, you can," he interrupted, shaking his head. "You can give yourself a darned break every once in a while." Scorp got back up to his feet. "Look, I get it, or at least I'm trying to... it just... bothers me."
"Why?"
"Honestly?" He visibly hesitated, brushing his fingers through his blond hair. "I just worry. Aren't I allowed to worry?"
"I've been doing this for three years," she protested faintly. "It's not like it's something new or anything."
"It's not," he agreed, his tone soft and his expression guarded. "But that still doesn't mean it's right."
"Scorp, we've been friends for all of two minutes." Rose shuffled up to her feet, pulling a blanket behind her. "You can't expect to waltz in and start fixing my life!"
"Why not?" He was still giving her that inscrutable look. "Why can't I help?"
"Because there's nothing here to fix." She wanted to close the distance between them, make the obvious discomfort that was growing between them go away. "I know you have a nasty habit of scratching at people's problems until they bleed but I'm fi-"
"Yes, you're fine, I heard you the first ten million times." He set his jaw, raising his hands in defeat and took a step back. "Don't worry, I'm sure I'll eventually grow out of this pesky concern thing of mine."
She'd hurt his feelings. Oh, bloody hell.
"Scorp, just-"
"No, no, it's fine." He shook his head and stalked over to the fireplace. He stuffed his wand into his pocket and grabbed himself a handful of Floo Powder. "I'm getting out of your hair, grab myself some fresh air." He wasn't even looking at her. "You need anything?"
"No, I'm good." Quick say something, anything else to make it right! "Look-"
"I'll be back in time for that greenish potion of yours, so don't think you're off the hook." He finally looked back at her, scowling at her over his shoulder and her stomach lurched. "Be good. Remember to drink fluids, okay?"
She nodded mutely and he was gone in a green flash before she could get another word in.
She allowed herself to sink back down to the mattress and stare blankly at the fireplace, half waiting for him to come back. When a minute passed she realized that no, of course he wasn't coming back. That was her, not him.
How long could Scorp stay mad at her? She'd never had to worry about that before so she wasn't quite sure. Would he still be mad when he came back? What was the best way to deal with him?
Al would know, but she'd already called him twice today and he'd clearly been hungover so she didn't want to push it. Either Yardley had completely lost control of his New Year's celebration or Al wasn't as okay as he claimed to be.
The whole thing stunk of Zara all over.
Rose got to her feet, grabbed a nearby blanket and wrapped it around herself. She picked up the pack of cigarettes she'd hidden under the mattress and grabbed her wand, walking purposefully to the kitchen.
"Give myself a break, geez," she grumbled. "Thank you, Scorp, it never occurred to me that it might be so simple."
What was he thinking? That she was made of free passes? That she could just carve out three hours for herself every day? She hardly washed her hair nowadays because of how long it took, she wasn't about to-
She stopped in the middle of the corridor, and looked over her shoulder in the general direction of Scorp's room. Tales of Lost Time. Tying all the loose ends.
How was that even fair?
She shook herself straight and crossed the distance between herself and her cigarette with swift strides. She perched herself on top of the counter, and cracked a window wide open. The winter cold bit her face and she scowled as she pulled a single cigarette and placed it between her lips.
"Doesn't mean it's rightI," she mimicked out loud. "Urgh, dopey asswipe."
She wordlessly lit the cigarette with her wand and took a drag, her hands shaking because of the cold. Grabbing the blanket closer to her, she gazed blankly at the hustle and bustle down on the streets.
Maybe she could-
No, of course she couldn't, that would be ridiculous.
It would be opening a precedent and she simply couldn't, not with Dangerous Bites so close.
Not to mention if she cracked, Scorp would think he could always pester her into 'taking a break' and that it would work and she didn't have the energy to endure this kind of frankly unethical dialectic every day.
Bribing her with Tales, how dare he?
Then there was of course Magical Bugs coming soon and, no matter how Choi didn't hate her, she definitely didn't want to disappoint him, especially after how nice he'd been with the whole Shivers business.
If only that asshole Ogden stopped giving her extra shifts and dropping random paperwork on her lap she might- she could-
Who was she kidding, of course he wouldn't just stop. And she couldn't say no to him, she was physically incapable of it. He was her senior and she couldn't exactly go about telling him to fuck off, could she?
Maybe if her mum was dying she could muster the courage, but certainly not because she wanted an extra nine hours to read Tales.
Rose glared at the cigarette she'd been smoking. It wasn't helping her out one bit now that Scorp had left and it still tasted like soot. Maybe it was because she was sick?
Maybe it was the fact that her heart felt crushed. He'd looked so hurt. Why had she said that? He was just being her friend, the best way he knew how. In his case that way was pesky and a little misguided but he had been trying. And she'd-
A snowy owl landed on the window sill and shuffled its feathers, shaking off a few wet snowflakes. It eyed her expectantly.
"What are you doing here?" Rose reached out to stroke its head, scratching the feathers with her index fingers. "Are you tired?"
When the owl hooted once and stepped away from the letter she'd been holding, Rose nearly lost her balance and fell straight off the window with the shock.
"For me?" The owl practically rolled her eyes at her, tapping a claw on the letter and fluttering onto her leg. "Are you sure?"
Rose gingerly took the letter, tearing the envelope carefully. She didn't get letters every day - at most she got a text or two, but never actual letters. Every once in a while one from St. Mungo's showed up, but this didn't bear St. Mungo's sygill.
She opened the letter and pulled out a card. Heavy stationary, golden squiggles, the works.
Together with their families, Katherine Towler and Jules Mordeaux cordially invite you to-
Katherine Towler? As in Kate Towler?
Rose shook her head and took a long drag from her cigarette. A coughing fit seized her and she stumbled down from the counter, tossing the half smoked cigarette into the sink and heaving. Her teary eyes went back to the card and she frowned at the impeccable calligraphy.
Kate Towler was getting married… to someone who wasn't Scorpius Malfoy.
Weird.
"It's going to be wild," Al shouted, waving his envelope with giddy joy. "Not at all like that stupid Yaxley's wedding, I thought for sure I was going to die from all the pureblooded glaring."
Yardley looked from Al to the identical cards they were holding in their hands, a grin growing on his face. Finally a worthy distraction.
They had been sitting on a rather fetching veranda in Lima, Peru - Al had been right, it was practically dinnertime in Madagascar - overlooking the Pacific Ocean, the sun shimmering on the sea. So far, instead of appreciating the view and scarfing down his brunch as he should, Al was looking a bit green around the gills.
That card had been like a balm, turning the tide around and making him more himself than Yardley had seen him for over a week, since that other stupid card had arrived.
Funny to think of the power of a few lines of text.
"Katie Towler getting married," Yardley mused, taking a swig from the margarita glass he was holding. "Who's the feller?"
"No idea," Al said, placing the card down on the table and shovelling a handful of bacon into his mouth. Finally. "Scorp didn't mention she was seeing anyone and you know he would."
Ah, yes, Scorp's personal gripe with anyone Kate dated was rather entertaining at dinner parties. The boy got really vicious about her suitors, it was hilarious.
"She always had an appalling taste in men, though," he laughed, pouring Al a glass. "Exhibit A, Scorp himself."
"You're part of that list, Yards, my boy," Al pointed out, chuckling.
"Not true," Yardley protested, though he did feel a little smug. "We only went out to Hogsmeade a few times, it hardly counts."
He wanted to point out that Al was also a part of the roster, but that would imply diving further into the matter and that meant slamming head-first into a wall of Zara.
He wasn't about to go anywhere near that topic.
"Yes, and the moment Scorp so much as smiled at her she discarded you like yesterday's trash and went right back to him," Al pointed out.
Yardley scowled. "She discarded everyone to go right back to Scorp." Yardley twirled a fork between his fingers with a thoughtful look. "Those two were batty about each other."
They'd been batty alright, breaking up and making up every other day. He'd never really quite understood why they'd broken up for good, especially considering the fact that they still got on like a house on fire. Best chums, even.
"Who the hell is this Jules anyway?" Al asked, scowling at the card. "I don't remember any Jules Mordeaux in Hogwarts."
"Sounds french. Beauxbatons?"
"Maybe…? I'll have to ask Louis about it, he'll know. And if he doesn't, Dominique will for sure."
They had bigger concerns than who Jules was, but he was glad Al wasn't making the connection. After all, Kate had been good friends with Al's bitch of an ex.
Kate knew right?
If she was inviting Al that meant she couldn't possibly invite her, could she?
She couldn't. She wouldn't.
Right?
"Rose?"
Oh dear Merlin, what now?
"In the kitchen!" she yelled, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and haphazardly flinging it into the nearest cupboard, banging the door shut. She had just finished scourgifying the three cigs she'd thrown in the sink - judge her all you want, she was nervous and she hadn't smoked in days - when in walked Lily Potter in all her frenzied glory.
A single natty orange homemade cloth bag hung from the redhead's shoulder. She was wearing a fluorescent yellow jacket, which she was currently trying to disentangle herself from. Under it was a not-much-better purple shirt, which clashed oddly with the green on her pants. Lily had a tendency of either looking like she'd gotten dressed in the dark with clothes she'd fished out of a garbage dump or like she'd spent five hours pondering about her fashion choices, according to how much mental energy she expended on it in the morning.
Today, apparently, it was the former.
"Oh, you're up!" Hobo Lily gave her an appreciative once over. "You look thinner. Are you on a diet?"
Merlin save her from the walking disaster that was Lily Potter and her absolute lack of tact.
"I was sick, love," Rose replied, trying to curb the smile that was threatening to grow on her lips. "You know, Shivers?"
Trust Lily to not know about it. She could see it now, the entire Weasley clan talking about it for an entire five hour Saturday lunch and it going in one of Lily's ears and out the other.
"How lucky for you!" The girl tilted her head and looked at her for a few seconds before she started promptly removing and stacking a series of tupperwares from her bag - which apparently was not only natty but also bottomless. "I just wish, I'm a stomach complication away from reaching my goal weight. After Christmas too, so well timed!"
Lily always spoke in a breathless sort of way, managing to cram a thousand words between each inhalation, as if there wasn't really time for them. Unlike Rose she didn't talk fast because she was nervous or anxious, she did it in a fruitless effort to keep up with her accelerated mind. Sometimes, like now, that mind only spewed nonsense. That tended to cause some people who didn't know her to think Lily Potter was a complete and utter ninny.
They were wrong.
If only the world could speed up to meet her, she'd end world hunger and cure cancer before she'd even had her morning coffee.
"If you want I can sneeze on you," Rose offered dryly, taking a few cautious steps toward Lily and peering at the boxes. "What are those?"
"Nan told me to bring these over for Al," Lily explained, frowning ever-so-slightly at one of the containers. "Is this zucchini?" She looked over at Rose with a confused look which then brightened into a hopeful grin. "Is Al going vegetarian too?"
"Not that I know of." Rose's eyebrows quirked at her cousin, her lips pursing together as she tried to keep a chuckle inside. "He's not here either."
"He isn't?"
"Lils, I swear-" She looked over at the multiple boxes, filled with what she was pretty sure were several vegetarian concoctions up to the brim. She could practically sniff the vitamins from where she was. "Are you sure these are meant for Al?"
Al would rather die before he ate any of these. According to him, if it didn't come with a side of bacon, it wasn't proper food.
"Well yeah, Nan made extra so I was supposed to bring them with me. She also said something about Al, though come to think of it I'm not entirely sure what she said, I wasn't really listening, because I was thinking about work-"
Rose rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead and inhaled. Obviously, her cousin had managed to tune out whatever Grandma Weasley had been saying and pieced out the conversation afterwards, which explained was why Lils was here, carrying a truckload of vegetarian food that was obviously meant for herself, not her chronically carnivorous sibling.
"- did I tell you I'm interning at Dervish and Banges? It's rather hellish but the hours are good and they have this rather silly filing problem. I expect to have it all sorted next week-"
"Wait, wait, wait," Rose managed to stutter out before Lily started going into another of her tangents. "Weren't you at Ollivanders?"
She really couldn't keep track of Lily's CV and she was sure all of Wizarding London was as puzzled as she was. Lily had been trying out a series of potential career options since her graduation, none spanning longer than six months. She left in her wake a trail of confused yet extremely uncritical employers who would vouch for her as hard-working, competent, proactive… even if she was a little all over the place.
Somehow, they all spoke of her fondly and she'd never been fired.
"Oh, no, that was last month… or was it last week?" Lily's pretty face contracted into a thoughtful frown. "Yes, two weeks ago, before Christmas. Or was it after...?"
"What happened?" Rose was aware her jaw had slackened and closed her mouth shut.
Quitting right before-or-after Christmas was the Lily-est thing. It was scatterbrained and thoughtless and just thinking about it made her want to go find a paper bag and breathe into it.
Lily herself? Lily was fine. Any concerns she might have, she seemed to laugh them off her life, never letting silly things like financial stability or what people might think of her get in the way of whatever it was she wanted to do.
"Oh, nothing," she replied dismissively, cracking open one of the rabbit food containers she'd brought over and eyeing it critically. "I sorted out their Cherry Wood suppliers and finally found the thing that wasn't adding up in their books from the first two quarters. I wasn't exactly needed anymore."
She watched as her cousin absent-mindedly walked over to the cupboard she'd stuffed her cigarettes in. If there was something Lily might give her trouble about, it was hiding her cigarettes in a cupboard, like a damned addict.
"Like, Arithmancy was never my strong suit so it took me a while longer than I'd expected but I'd been meaning to quit from day one. They only hired me because of dad anyway."
"So you quit?" Rose's breath was caught in her throat and she scrambled, trying to distract her cousin from the pack of cigs staring right at her. "Again?"
"Yep. I was bored, you know?" She didn't have to worry apparently. Lily just looked through the cigarette pack and picked a plate, never ceasing her tireless monologue. "Wasn't for me. Anyway, I was saying about Dervish, it's not just the filing that's all wrong, they don't exactly have a method for anything and I-"
She doled out the contents of the container onto the plate and heated them up, never stopping to catch her breath, even as she non-verbally Accio'd a fork from one of their drawers.
"- honestly, I don't know how they survived this long without going under, the place is chaos and the brothers who own the shop are well-meaning idiots-"
Rose was all but ready to kick up a fuss when Lily presented whatever that vegetable medley that was in front of her - out of principle, obviously. After all if she'd refused food from Scorp, she'd be damned if she was taking it from Lily.
However Lily did no such thing.
Instead, she placed the plate smack dab in front of herself, apparently making herself comfortable for a mid afternoon snack.
"- I'm half-sure one of the employees is stealing from the cash register. Her name is Jess and Merlin, she looks like a Jess, like, you have no idea-"
A comforting smell wafted toward Rose and she felt her stomach grumble. Between the smell and Lily's familiar chattering, the kitchen now somehow reminded her of The Burrow, of Gobstone games and lemonade in summer… even though it was peak winter and she was now sure what was on the plate was vegetarian lasagna.
Rose wasn't sure how Lily could keep up the stream of conversation with the plate still untouched in front of her. She felt like her stomach might at any moment jump out of her mouth and help itself off Lily's plate if she didn't start eating soon.
It was criminal to leave it there, soggy and forgotten.
"- but I can't prove it, you see, and it's wild because I've been there a week and I don't know how anyone hasn't noticed it before. It's driving me a little loony if I'm honest-" She looked sweetly over at Rose, who was practically drooling all over the counter. "You want some?"
Rose's hands were already reaching out and pulling the plate toward her before Lily had the chance to finish her kind offer - which, considering just how fast Lily talked, was a rather prodigious feat. Lily handed her the unused fork she'd been holding - holding, not using - and rested her chin on her hand with an amused look.
"Good, right?"
It had been only after the first bite that she'd realised she had been actually starving.
"Nan'sh cooking is alwaysh the besht," Rose replied, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She swallowed and sighed. "Almost tastes like the real stuff, too."
"Right?" There was a small glint to Lily's eyes. "It's quite lovely. How are you holding up?"
"You know, locked at home with Scor- Malfoy." Rose corrected herself, frowning a bit as she shovelled a forkful into her mouth. Ah, dear cheesy delight. "Not echactly the besht."
"Is he being an arse? I can have a chat with him if you'd like…?"
"Nah." Rose swallowed, rolling her eyes. "He's alright, he's just-"
Worried.
Something inside her ached at the concept and she stuffed her face full of peppers and zucchini and whatever else was hiding in the cheesy sauce in a desperate attempt to distract herself.
"That's good," Lily said, nodding approvingly. "I thought you'd be at each other's throats by now. I mean, I thought it was odd when you didn't spend five hours complaining about him at Christmas but I figured-"
"We're…" Friends. Rose choked, and not because of the lasagna. Somehow she couldn't quite bring herself to say the word aloud. "We have declared a cease-fire of sorts."
Why was she embarrassed about it?
"Is Al thrilled? You two playing nice is his dream come true, I'm sure."
"Wouldn't know," she replied truthfully. "He's been away for a while."
"He was going a bit off his rocket a few weeks back when you two were having a wild fight-"
Trust Al to babble to Lily. Probably James too.
"- and anyway I'm glad you two sorted it out because you know how he runs and hides when people fight around him. Neither James or me have an uncontrollable impulse to disapparate whenever anyone so much as breathes at us funny so I really don't know where he got it from… Oh, before I forget-" Lily stopped her ramble and pulled her bag toward her. She stuck her hand on the inside and fumbled for whatever it was she was looking for, her face scrunched up with concentration. "Ah, here it is. Penny gave me these."
"Penny? Are those notes?" Rose instantly recognized Jesse's meticulous, almost girly handwriting on the first page. "Did she say what about?"
"Probably," Lily replied indifferently, sliding the stack of parchment over to her. "I wasn't really listening, like, I sort of tuned out when she started talking Healing gibberish. What I do know is that St. Mungo's needs a better coffee machine. No wonder everyone there looks depressed."
It was a good half hour after Lily left before Rose's dazed brain finally caught up with what had happened and she realised she'd been played like a damned fool.
When a couple of minutes later she walked over to extract her cigarettes from the cupboard she found a single Smokeefree potion laying in its stead.