Seventh Year. November 17th. 1:45am, Rose Weasley's Suite

He splashed the water on his face as if it would wisk away his problem. But his problem, like water, ebb'd and flowed but never seemed to disappear. Water always becomes bigger. Streams turn to rivers which turn to oceans… and he had himself an ocean of a problem now. He was drowning.

Drowning in her.

Scorpius shut his eyes tightly and re-opened them, his reflection was still there. Nothing had changed.

But that wasn't true. Everything seemed to be changing.

They weren't the same. Ever since that damn almost kiss in that wicker dollhouse she called a bedroom, everything seemed to be insane.

Damn it! It's not supposed to be like this! They aren't supposed to act like this! They are supposed to make jokes and jabs. Snide remarks. They were supposed to do the give and take! It was supposed to be fun! Eventually, when school was over and real life began, he was supposed to defeat her. We all have to grow up some time. The fun can't last forever. He was to live his life slightly more successfully than her, just to show that he had always been better. That was supposed to be the natural order of things. It is what they wanted, what their families wanted. Hell, It was what the Gods wanted.

But she was never mortal was she?

Scorpius pressed his palms to the bathroom sink and leaned forward, dropping his head and blowing out a hard breath.

Of course she wasn't mortal. Look at the evidence. How is it that she was always around? Like a spectre? How is it that she seems to know what he is going to say and always have the perfect retort? Even when that retort is her punching him in the back of the head?

Scorpius snorted. He had really earned that punch though. Scorpius laughed outright, his chest rumbled with the audacity of it.

She was so good at making him laugh. Sometimes, he would find himself thinking about some comeback she made during one of their many pointless arguments, and he would laugh about it all day. Usually at the most inopportune moments, like in the middle of answering a question for Professor Longbottom…and when Longbottom deducted 5 points from Slytherin for it, she smirked. It was like she was getting back at him again without even saying a word. A double whammy.

There it was. More evidence that she could never be mortal. She put spells on him, making him behave strangely, just some laughing lunatic sitting in the back of herbology. But these spells weren't derived from magic.

And of course, there were his dreams. She was in his dreams now too…from the most innocuous of hallucinations to the most unspeakable sexual fantasy. She haunted him in his sleep too.

He could never escape her.

Scorpius shook his head and looked up into his reflection at the sink. What was that facial expression? As soon as the thought came to mind, his face contorted, as if it was trying to hide something from him. Gods, did he not even have control over his own body anymore?

He shook his head again. Enough. This is ridiculous. He was way too much in his own head and if he wasn't careful, he'd fall down a rabbit hole that he may never get out of. This won't do at all. This was not how it's supposed to be.

In fact, it isn't how it is. Yes. If he tells himself it isn't, then it won't be. Push it out of your mind. None of this is real. This is all an overactive libido and some kind of crazy mental manipulation instigated by Johnson. Fucking Johnson.

No, he was only thinking it was a thing because he was convincing himself it was a thing. Malfoys have amazing powers of persuasion, why wouldn't he be susceptible to his own charms? He was magnificent, after all.

Scorpius' eyes finally focused and he suddenly realized how hard he had been gripping the table. He studied the intense red pigmentation that filled his hands as they held their vice like grip. Finally, he noticed how painful the whole thing actually was and released his hold.

Shouldn't he have noticed the pain first?

Scorpius smirked. The power of persuasion. He could ignore anything, notice anything, and feel anything if he convinced himself he should. There was hope for him yet.

Scorpius stared at his reflection. Same old him today. Impossibly high cheek bones, perfectly trimmed blond hair, breathtaking platinum grey eyes. He eyed his torso, solid pecks, sinewy strong biceps, straight six pack—complete with that hip bone thing the girls seem to be obsessed with. He was outstanding. Sex had blond hair and grey eyes.

He chuckled at himself and shook his head in a light hearted manner. He lightly chastised himself for letting his mind run wild and turned to head back to bed.

But his legs almost gave out when he heard it. He wouldn't describe it as a blood curtling scream or anything. Really, it was more like a groan, a pained groan. It came out feint but because it came from her, he heard it.

Suddenly, she whimpered and his body was moving toward her door before he realized what he was doing. He stopped abruptly right in front of it. He looked up at the mahogany door and, suddenly, his senses came back to him. What was he doing? He turned swiftly and walked back towards his room.

Then she yelped.

And he was walking through the adjoining bathroom door and into her bedroom.

She kept her bedroom window slightly cracked open and the dying light of her fire place gave the room a sort of cavernous glow. The Head bedrooms were identical in layout. Impossibly large, with a fireplace complete with sitting area, a large mahogany desk (did they use any other type of wood in this place?) with a personal bookshelf, large closet, and a balcony where the room came to an apex. Her balcony doors were cracked open as well and the crisp December breeze permeated through the room.

But he couldn't pay attention to any of that now. She was thrashing, flipping all about in her bed. Scorpius felt a tight pang in his chest as he struggled to figure out what was going on. The dim lighting in the room made it impossible to discern what the issue was. Was she awake? Asleep? Was she having a spasm? Heart attack?

Was she sick? The pang in his chest started to burn. He had to figure this out.

Was someone in there with her? For one brief moment, he thought maybe he was walking in on her in the throws of passion with another man.

Another pang. Far, far worse than the others.

Wait. Her groans sounded like pain, not pleasure. Was she being attacked?

This pang knocked the wind out of him and he was across the room and by her bed before the pain subsided.

"W…weasley?" Scorpius whispered. He narrowed his gaze and scrutinized her. She was alone and a crushing weight seemed to lift off of him. Her eyes were shut tight but she was gripping her pillow for dear life, rocking back and forth, with her face buried in the pillow. It's soft cotton cover muffling her screams.

Scorpius reached out to touch her. His intention was to shove her awake, take her out of whatever terrifying ordeal her mind was inflicting upon her. But his fingertips froze inches from her skin and a familiar sensation overtook him that he had not felt for quite sometime, fear.

He snapped his hand back and stared at it in confusion.

Then the pillow slipped and her scream exploded out into the night.

And he was hovering over her, shaking her vehemently. He never, ever wanted to hear that shatteringly horrible octave again, especially from her. It filled his entire body with an instinctual pain that was only bearable for a second. It was as if his body was punishing him for his hesitation to wake her.

She snapped up and he barely dodged her, Quidditch had made them fast. She looked around wildly, desperately pulling at her blanket, trying to shoot out of the bed. He grabbed her wrist before she could and she rounded on him ferociously. He immediately dropped her hand upon seeing the blazing look in her eye.

"It's just me, Weasley. Just me." Scorpius said quietly, throwing his hands up in the air as if to show her he was no threat.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" Rose yelled out. Her eyes were wide and unfocused. She was panting wildly, holding her blanket against her like it was armor.

Scorpius' eyebrows flew back into his head. "What?"

"I SAID WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Rose choked out but it didn't seem like she was trying to correct her earlier statement. It seemed like she had no idea WHAT she was saying.

Scorpius took a deep steady breath and he looked straight into those big blues. And then they were locked into eachother in a way that he had never known they could be. He spoke with control, as if he were her guide to bring her back, "You are having a nightmare. Everything is ok."

She blinked once as what he said started to penetrate her haze of confusion and terror. He stayed locked onto her and she seemed to gather courage from his connection, "I…it was a nightmare?" Her eyes were pleading.

He was bringing her back. "Just a nightmare. You're ok. You're here with me." A curious lump drove up his throat as he finished but he stayed locked into her, determined to finish what he started.

She looked at him a little longer and the most indescribable expression crossed her face, but it was gone just as quickly. She nodded her head as her face sunk towards the blanket she was still desperately clinging too.

Her breathing started to slow and Scorpius realized that she was covered in sweat, her skin looked almost dewy in the low light of the fireplace. Scorpius groaned inwardly. Leave it to her to make sweat seem erotic.

Wait. Not erotic. Beautiful? Unique?

No... something snarky.. Petty…she looked…goblin-esque? He had been having alot of success with goblin based insults this month...

He sighed….Gods he couldn't think. He had to get out of here.

"Eh…well…you seem to be doing fine now…" Scorpius mumbled out. He started to rise from her bedside when another pang hit him. He stumbled awkwardly. He looked back at her with her face buried in her blanket and suddenly he wanted so badly to touch her. He wanted to stay with her. He didn't want her to let him leave…who would protect her?

The intimate nature of these thoughts caused him to force his body straight and take a step back towards the door, back to the confused safety of his acromantula thread sheets.

It was happening again. He was persuading himself. He REALLY had to get out of here.

He turned, being careful not to catch a glimpse of her, and walked swiftly to the adjoining bathroom door. His fingers had just wrapped around the door knob when he heard her: "Malfoy?"

He froze. Damn it, she had always been braver than him and he abhorred it.

He blew out a breath in response.

She seemed to understand that she would have to be the one to say it.

"Could you…I mean…just…stay…" She whispered out, partially hiding herself behind her blanket. Her request came out tiny and vulnerable.

And he was across the room and climbing in her bed before she even had time to look up. He seemed to realize how abrupt his movement was because his eyes were wide open as he came to sit next to her. He froze for a moment, hoping that Weasley couldn't make out his blush. Finally, he adjusted himself, mechanically resting his back against her headboard and placing his hands in his lap.

He looked at her out the side of his eye. He couldn't be sure but she seemed to be smiling. Gods, he was so thankful it was so dim because he must be blood red. His eyes shot forward and he could hear her rustling a bit beside him.

He needed to relax. This whole situation would be so much worse if he didn't relax. It was just he and Rose…eh…he and Weasley. They had been alone together a million times. The only reason he was behaving so strangely was because he was persuading himself to do so. He was the master of his destiny.

Scorpius sighed. "So. Funny meeting you here." He rolled his eyes at himself, silently wondering if there were any scientific measurements that could gauge the corniness of that joke.

And yet she laughed. He risked another look at her and saw that she had let the blanket slide down her torso a little. She had sat up to mirror his position. She was relaxing.

He took his cue from her and relaxed a bit more against her head board, crossing his arms. They sat in silence for a while before she finally said something.

"Well, honestly as often as I fall asleep in the common room, I suppose your statement would be correct. It is strange to see me here." Rose replied, trying a wild stab at some kind of weirdly logical humor.

Scorpius laughed. She could always make him laugh. He supposed she was right, he found himself watching her doze on the couch several time when they were reading by the fireplace. He never really thought about it, but he loved those nights. "Ah yes. That MUST be it." He murmured.

They sat in silence a little longer.

"So…" She began, Scorpius could slightly see her toying with a thread on what he knew to be the comforter her grandmother had made for her. Mrs. Weasley was a hell of a weaver because even Scorpius had to admit that it was insanely comfortable.

She continued. "So…went straight for the bed, huh?"

Scorpius turned and arched an eyebrow at her. That's when he saw her. Really saw her. No side glances or squints from across the room. She was wearing something of a sleeveless undershirt, black, that hugged her body. His eyes dragged themselves down the bit of body he could see. She had the longest, softest looking neck he had ever seen. Her hair was untamed and savage. It fell down her face in a way that made her seem almost…primal.

Scorpius could feel his neck growing hot.

And her freckles.

So many little freckles. Scorpius found himself wondering exactly where all the freckles were located. How long would it take to draw a map to all of them? Well. To draw a map, he'd have to go exploring, wouldn't he? From the tip of her nose, to her softest, most supple, most….

And then his cock twitched.

Scorpius snapped his eyes shut. Not breasts…he wasn't going to think breasts…Toe knuckle. He could explore her from the tip of her nose down to her toe knuckle. Purely academic. Almost medical.

He snapped his eyes open and saw that she was looking at him curiously. He cleared his throat.

"Hmm?" He gurgled out.

She cocked her head a bit. "You came straight to the bed…I mean…you could have sat at the desk, or in the sitting area…but you went straight for the bed?" She chuckled. "Classic Malfoy."

Scorpius looked at her incredulously for a moment. "Oh ok, I see, here I am trying to be KIND to you…my mistake. How about I just leave now, hmm?" He smirked at her playfully and started to get up.

And she wrapped those little porcelain fingers around his wrist.

And he knew he was never going anywhere.

" Ok…ok…" She whispered. He chuckled as he looked at her hand. His eyes flashed to her face, she was scowling and he thought it was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

No, not adorable. Interesting. It was plain and interesting, and nothing that could be construed as romantic. Scorpius dropped his gaze and sighed hard as he returned to his previous position. Suddenly, she threw part of her blanket over him.

He looked at her and she blushed profusely, even in the dim light, he could see it. "Sorry." She squeaked. "What can I say? Girls love blankets. It feels weird to sit under a blanket when the person next to you isn't."

Scorpius smirked at her for a moment and then laughed outright. "What? Are you telling me you're allotting me some of your blanket, out of pity, for something I don't even think about?"

Rose sighed and laid her head against the headboard, "I spend about 37% of my day pitying people for things they don't even think about…"

Scorpius nodded and smiled, his eyes resting at the dying fire. "Yes, I suppose I know what that's like. We should get a hobby."

Rose smirked. "Yes, but in NEWT year? Who has the time…" She elbowed him slightly and he pinched her in return. They both let out a chuckle before settling into a comfortable silence.

Finally, Scorpius asked the question they both knew was coming: "So…can I ask…what—"

"—It was about my dad." Rose whispered, staring at the door that stood across the room from her bed. Scorpius briefly wondered if she was thinking about running through it.

She continued. "I have nightmares about him sometimes."

Scorpius nodded. He wasn't sure if he should continue or if this was something too personal but she seemed to make the decision for him.

"When I was little, a neo-deatheater followed my dad home once." Rose started. Scorpius' eyes widened and he turned himself somewhat towards her so that he could study her closely. If she showed even one sign of crying, he would lose it. He abhorred crying.

She continued. "…no one thought it was possible. I mean…he's Ronald Weasley. Dad has a pretty formidable reputation. Plus, the sheer number of protective enchantments on my house is astronomical…and they were put there by my mum. The brilliant Hermine Granger…" Rose sighed. "But…this kid did it. And…at about 1am, I was woken up by what sounded like an explosion…"

Her face contorted as she recalled what Scorpius could tell was a particularly terrifying memory. He waited.

She continued, "…I was about 6 or 7 at the time. I don't remember leaving my room, or walking downstairs…but I remember everything that happened after."

Scorpius watched her as she painstakingly recalled the details. Suddenly, he wanted to touch her again. The look of fear on her face was a side of her that he knew she would never have let him see before tonight. They were in this together.

"…the…the deatheater…he had brown hair. It was filthy and tangled, like he had been roughing it for a while…he wore a mangy black cloak…but even then, I could see the blood on it." She whispered. "…my…my dad's blood. Dad was in his pajamas, which I suppose meant that he didn't see the attack coming…"

She seemed to be entranced, drowning in the pain of it all…and because she was drowning, so was he. Oceans of problems. At least he wasn't alone…

And yet she soldiered on, "…my dad was kneeling…" She choked at this statement and her head dropped even more. Scorpius wondered if maybe he should stop her from talking about it anymore, she looked desperately sad now. Wasn't he supposed to be protecting her?

But then she lifted her head and a determined look cemented on her face. No, she was going to finish this. Scorpius had seen that face before. It was the face she made when she was preparing herself for battle. He usually saw it right before they got into a fantastic row, or when she was preparing for a particularly nasty exam. One look at that face and he knew that he would never be able to stop her, even if he tried.

She took a deep breath. " He…ah…the deatheater had a wand to his throat. He…he was muttering something, I couldn't hear it….and my Dad…" Rose smiled a little bit and it made Scorpius flinch. "…my Dad was talking to him. Calm as you please…like having a wand to his throat was no big deal."

Rose then let out an obscene laugh, her body vibrating with it's after effect as she shook her head. "I often forget that my Dad is an Auror, you know…I mean, to a kid it seems insane that someone could be so calm and chatty in a situation like that… but as an adult, I realize that he was probably following some procedure to diffuse the situation…he'd probably been in that situation a million times before…"

Scorpius stared at her intensely as she put her pieces together. Her face seemed to almost leap from emotion to emotion. Terror, agony, crippling sadness, unyielding determination, hysterical glee. She was back to crippling sadness for a moment before putting on an odd face of indifference.

"…what an odd place to have a discussion though, you know? I mean…here you are with your wand at some other man's throat…and you have time to chat?" Rose chuckled shakily. "I dunno… but there they were, talking, when my Dad noticed me standing in our foyer….I guess the Deatheater must have seen him look because he turned around and raised his wand at me…"

And again, there goes that terrible pang that knocks the wind out of him.

But he was brought back by her voice, "…I was too young to understand that I was about to die." She whispered.

He grabbed her hand and leaned towards her suddenly. "I…Weasley…" He sputtered out. He had just realized what he had done as his fingers wrapped around hers. He wasn't sure why he was surprised; his body had proven multiple times that he had no control over it when she was around.

And yet she squeezed his hand and kept going, "…but I didn't die." She whispered, and for the first time she looked at him first. She gave him a small smile as if to reassure him.

Except this was no ordinary smile. He had never seen this smile before and it triggered something to stir inside him that felt more intoxicating than the strongest firewhiskey. It radiated a kind of warmth that felt more sublime than the strongest calming draught. It felt so good that he found himself sighing, a long and satisfied sound left his lips. He immediately turned pale as he realized he had just let out what could be construed as a pleasure moan upon seeing that smile.

If she noticed, she had the decency not call attention to it. She kept going, "No…he trained his wand at me and started to speak when all the lights in the house went out immediately…or at least that's what it seemed like. I couldn't see a thing except the light of spells…I heard two screams…and then there was light again…and with the light, came my mum."

Rose's lips curved into a different kind of smile. Pride. "I…I remember the lights going out and when they came back on she was standing in the foyer between me, my dad, and the deatheater…at the time it seemed like she had just appeared…like a bat out of hell. As an adult, I know better."

She blinked as if in thought. "It's obvious to me now that my parents had a contingency plan for such a scenario…and when the time came, they executed it. My current theory is that my parents' wands are connected somehow…like one wand warns the other if its master is in danger. I think that's why my dad was talking with him…he was stalling…my parents have always done everything together, they might as well kick arse together too." Rose laughed softly. "Hell, I suppose they have been kicking arse together since they were 11."

Scorpius felt a little relief upon seeing her recall her legacy with such hope. But soon her smile faded, and Scorpius twitched with another pang.

"…as the light came on…my mum had her wand trained on the deatheater and my dad had him in a sort of chokehold. There was a protection spell around me…I think that must have been the spells I saw in the dark…my mum must have done that…then my mum cast a paralyzing spell at the deatheater and it was all over…the whole thing couldn't have taken longer than a minute from when I got downstairs to when the deatheater was incapacitated." Rose blew out a breath. "…and you know what I remember the most?"

Rose looked up at Scorpius and their eyes locked. He took a shaky breath. "…what?" He whispered as they gazed at eachother.

Rose stared into his platinum greys and Scorpius thought he could see something flash in her eyes. Suddenly, her gaze dropped and Scorpius felt a terrible pang. My God, how could he stop these pangs?

"…it was my dad's face…the face he made when he first saw me in the foyer…and the face he made at the deatheater when he had him in that chokehold. When he saw me in the foyer…the fear in his eyes when he knew I was standing there…when he knew exactly what was at stake? I saw his fear that night…and I haven't stopped seeing that fear in his eye in the eleven years since…and I hate it. I hate it more than anything in the world…because it's my fault it's there." Rose's lips trembled a little and she started to grip the blanket with her hand.

She sighed. "…and the look on his face when he had the deatheater in his hands? Well…that was the first time I realized that my Dad has killed people."

Scorpius reeled back a bit at her statement, the finality in her voice.

"I mean…I always understood, on an intellectual level, that my Dad is an Auror…but…I think I forget what that really entails. The way he was looking at that Deatheater? Yea…my Dad has definitely killed people." She finished simply, her voice had a dreamy quality to it that Scorpius found downright off putting.

Rose seemed to come to and blew out a hard breath."…anyway. That's the whole thing…I guess it can be a little hard to understand…"

Scorpius looked off into the distance for a moment. The weight of the room seemed to shift. The weight of this moment seemed to shift. He had watched her reveal a side of herself that he had never really known had existed. He had never really realized it but being a Potter/Weasley probably came with a whole host of dangers, even after the war. People don't just stop hating people. All the violence, the intolerance, the hatred…that doesn't just evaporate once the fighting subsides. It just becomes more insidious. More covert. Of that, he was certain.

This was the moment. She had done her part, now he had to do his.

"No…I understand." He said simply.

He turned to see her looking at him, her expression seemed to be a mixture of confusion with a bit of anger.

Rose couldn't believe him. How could he possibly understand? Now was not the time to give lame platitudes, to give the illusion of listening…of empathizing. She had just shared something so personal with him that she could hardly believe she had done it. Perhaps he was just in shock and didn't know what to say? Rose could feel her face flushing with embarrassment.

And then he spoke.

"I am the son of Draco Malfoy." He started quietly, turning his face away from her. Rose looked at him in the dim light of her bedroom and could only barely make out his features. The light made him appear so much softer than the sharp angular features that usually defined his face. He was looking ahead. His head was drooped slightly, as if he couldn't look at her. He continued.

"I can distinctly remember at least 5 times that someone tried to murder my father…" Scorpius whispered. Rose's eyes widened, now who was the one who didn't know what to say?

"I…I can remember 2 times that someone tried to murder me." Scorpius continued, his voice was barely audible. For some reason, the very thought of someone hurting Malfoy sent a horrible jolt of pain through Rose that she had not experienced for years…not since she was a little girl standing in the foyer.

She looked at him through the side of her eye. "But…how do I not know-" She started when Scorpius blew out a hard breath and closed his eyes.

"The ministry squashed the stories before they came out in the Prophet." He whispered. "They didn't want to give vigilantes anymore ideas about coming after us. Honestly, the only people who really know are the Minister's office and the Auror's office."

Rose stopped herself from gasping. She silently chastised herself for being so surprised that Malfoy would understand what she went through. Of course, he would…of course people would come after his family too. After the fall of Voldemort, they would be seen as the chief Deatheaters. They would be blamed for all the pain…the suffering. Being a Malfoy would probably be just as dangerous as being a Weasley…perhaps even more dangerous. And yet, even with this realization, the only thing she could say was: "So…my Dad…he knows?"

"Yes." Scorpius replied. "Mr. Potter and your Mum set up the security enchantments around our home after the...incident." Scorpius chuckled a bit. "I suppose I should be thankful that they never gossiped about what happened…"

Rose looked down at her bedspread for a moment. She was trying to think of the right thing to say, and yet for the first time, he had rendered her speechless.

Scorpius controlled the conversation now. This was his story. "Everyone hates Malfoys. Everyone. Deatheaters hate us, the Ministry hates us, Everyone."

She wanted so badly to tell him that wasn't true. But she was paralyzed. He soldiered on. He had always been braver than her, and she couldn't stand it.

"I suppose…I guess there are many times I can think of where we've been attacked. On the street, Diagon Alley…the Ministry…but there is one time that I will never forget." He whispered.

She was frozen, staring at his features in the soft glow of his truth.

"I…I was kidnapped once. I had to have been…maybe 5 years old." He stopped for a moment and let out another hard breath. Who would have thought that breathing could be so deliberate, that it could serve a purpose other than just survival? He continued, "The crazy thing is, it wasn't some Deatheater, or someone you'd normally think would harm a child…it was a Ministry official."

Gods, he wanted to cry.

But he wouldn't.

"It was a woman…she had lost her husband in Voldemort's purges of muggle borns…then she lost her son in the Battle of Hogwarts…she was at the battle, she had come to find him once the parents figured out that Voldemort was there…she saw him die…" Scorpius choked out. He closed his eyes tightly and kept pushing. "It's hard for me to remember the details of my kidnapping…I was so young…or maybe my brain just won't let me…"

Rose wanted to tell him he didn't have to keep going. He didn't have to be consumed by his pain. But as she opened her mouth, he began again.

"…I remember she had me locked in…I guess it was a basement. It was so cold…so cold. The ground was hard stone. I remember it hurt to lay on after a while." Scorpius whispered. "…I don't know how long I was there. I remember her coming down periodically. She'd smack me around a bit. She said she wanted to do it right. Muggle style…at the time I had no idea what she meant…I just wanted her to stop hitting me…"

Rose was going to die. This was it. The pain in her chest was so consuming that she was sure her heart was about to explode. She felt light headed, and the largest, most painful lump drove up her throat. Choking her. She was choking on his pain. She was going to die, she was sure of it.

"…Of course, now I know that what she mean't was she was going to kill me the way muggles kill eachother, my death would be slow, symbolic, specifically muggle. I know now that she wanted it to hurt. She wanted to hurt me to hurt my father…she wanted his suffering to be endless…like hers. The Deatheaters had taken away everyone she loved. She intended to do the same." Scorpius rested his head on the back of Rose's headboard. "So…for what felt like ages…she beat me."

Scorpius was tired. Telling this story was draining the very life out of him. Strangely enough though, it was also giving him something. He couldn't put a word on it. Was it hope? It felt strangely good to talk about it, even if it was also so very painful. He hadn't spoken about it since he was five. His brain had actively worked to shut it down. Even the countless sessions with the Mind Healer couldn't get him to open up about it. So what was different now?

Right. Her.

Scorpius blew out another hard breath. Breathing was becoming difficult. He needed to wrap this up. "…anyway, eventually, the Aurors found me…specifically, Mr. Potter and his team found me. They were the ones that came bursting through the basement door…of course, at the time, I had no idea it was him…I was so tired. It was so cold…I hate that the Slytherin common rooms are so cold."

One tear came out of Scorpius' eye and he hoped to God that Weasley hadn't seen it. He ran his hand across his face to erase the tear, feigning as if he were just running it through his hair.

Rose didn't say a word about it. She just sat with him. She knew that the only thing she could do was to just be there. This was his story. His horror. His life. All she could do was be there.

Scorpius laughed suddenly and Rose flinched.

"I suppose I understand what you mean when you say that your Dad's face is what you remember most. Of all the things I have forgotten about that…experience, my Dad's face sticks with me. When they brought me to him…I remember what he looked like. I had never seen him so disheveled. It looked like he had not slept, ate, bathed…for days. I'll never forget how hard he cried. My father never cries…I once heard him say to my mother that the war had stolen all his tears…but he cried and cried."

Scorpius lowered his head even more, staring intensely at the comforter. "I've never seen my father cry since and honestly…if he did…I don't think I could handle it." Yes. Scorpius abhorred crying.

Scorpius shook his head slightly and Rose wanted so badly to touch his face. She wanted so badly to do anything that would alleviate the anguish in his eyes.

Scorpius chuckled. "Sometimes…sometimes I think it was destiny that Albus and I became such good friends. Sometimes, I think that being his friend is my way of thanking Mr. Potter for…for what he did for me."

Scorpius stared into the fireplace a little longer. "You want to know something else? I don't blame her…I don't blame her for kidnapping me…for what she did to me in that basement…if I had lost everything, the way she did…well…I think I'd snap too."

Rose looked at his face as he stared into the fire. He didn't look angry or scared. He looked guilty. As if his horrible experience wasn't enough punishment for the crimes of his family. As if the events of the second Great War were his fault. As if he deserved what happened to him…as if he should have died to atone for all the tragedies born from the ignorance of a time before he existed.

The world was a void and nothing and no one existed. They both looked up at eachother as the room swirled and danced in the dim firelight. Her eyes met his and she felt like she could live in his gaze. She could FEEL it. When had things become so intimate between the two of them? Why did she want to touch him now? Why did she want to…

And yet all she could do was whisper, "Does…does Albus know?"

Scorpius cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, as if he had seen something in the flicker of her big blues. "No. This…experience… was just for me…well…until now."

Why did she want to?

Scorpius gazed into those eyes just a little longer and felt himself becoming intoxicated in them. Even through all the pain, guilt, humiliation, and a cacophony of other feelings that were flooding him…all of that seemed to be wiped from him the second he saw those eyes. It was as if she could calm his aching soul with just one look. Even if only for a moment.

They were staring at eachother in a way that was surreal. Time, space, logic, all the basic elements of existence were suddenly, and laughably, inconsequential. As if either of them had ever been subject to the mundane laws of mortals.

And he was inching towards her now, neither meaning to or realizing it. His eyes flickering towards those lips.

And she was doing the same. She wanted to…

As always, they were in this together.

And then the most obscene flash of lightening temporarily lit up the entire world in a blinding explosion of light accompanied by the most audacious of thunder claps. As if the world had exploded in anticipation.

And suddenly reality existed again and they were ripped out of the surreality they had created. They were mortal once more.

Scorpius blinked several times and upon realizing how close he was to her lips, he snapped away from her. She seemed to mirror his movements exactly. Gods, they were more alike than he ever thought possible.

They both looked down and they realized that their fingers were intertwined in an incredibly tight grip.

They had been holding hands the entire time.

They broke their grasp on eachother and looked around for a moment, as if they had no idea where they were.

Scorpius cleared his throat and Rose pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

He had to get out. He felt like he was being smothered. "I…eh…anyway, Weasley, I think it's time-"

"—To get to bed." Rose finished, she was just as panicked as he was. She didn't want him to leave and that only convinced her even more that he needed to go.

He climbed out of her bed slowly, part of him hoping she would ask him to stay and the other part of him mustering all the strength he had to force himself out of that room. His hand grasped the door knob to the adjoining bathroom and he pulled it open.

"Malfoy?" Rose whispered and he snapped around so fast, it hurt.

She had the most peculiar look on her face before she said, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He said in a tone that was almost inaudible.

And he pushed himself through the door and closed it tightly.