Falling Is Like This

by inadaze22

Rose Weasley's life is all about routine and passing fancies; that is, until she witnesses something that changes everything. On her quest to find answers, Rose will learn that there are many ways to fall, and no way to avoid it.

18. The Butterfly Effect

Who is the betrayer?
Who's the killer in the crowd?
The one who creeps in corridors
And doesn't make a sound
Heavy in Your Arms – Florence + the Machines

Chapter Eighteen: The Butterfly Effect

Rose found it strange how everything was different, but nothing had changed.

People still injured themselves and magic was still being misused; accidents still happened and bad things were still unfairly happening to good people. That was the human condition. It would never change.

Neither did life at the hospital.

Welcome Witches continued to be the unappreciated heartbeat of the hospital. Healers pretended to be above it all, but were still some of the worst gossipmongers in the entire hospital. And, no one dared to upset the Medi-witches or else risk their lives being made hell at work. There were still safety briefings and added security measures, but the lack of deaths had lured everyone into a sense of security where they were ready to call the entire matter an unsolved mystery that they rumoured about.

They were ready to get on with life.

Normally, Rose would have shared the sentiment, but she couldn't.

It was the end of her second full week back at the hospital, and while everything appeared normal – right down to the ease at which she'd fallen back into her routine – things most definitely were not.

The walls could see and hear everything – that hadn't changed – but now, they were watching and listening to her. Rose wasn't a stranger to being watched. It was practically a rite of passage in her family. However, the unapologetic gawking and the open whispering when she walked past were a bit much. Honestly, she had no idea why or what the whispers were about. She'd been cleared in the patient's death investigation; relabelled as a witness. And outside of that, Rose had little else going on that would draw attention.

But Rose didn't care enough to find out. She had, however, take a special sort of joy by brazenly meeting all their stares with ones of her own until they'd avert their eyes or pretend to be working.

But mostly, she ignored them all.

She was practically a professional with years of experience.

It was another thing she and Healer Brown had in common.

On her first day back, a hospital administrator Rose had never seen before stopped by Lavender's office. She had been so busy lamenting about the obscene amount of unorganized paperwork that had stacked up in her absence – paperwork her boss had refused to allow anyone else to handle – that she'd hardly noticed the woman standing in the doorway.

The administrator had welcomed Rose back in one breath, and with the next – in a tone that left no room for interpretation – she told her Healer Brown to keep her on light duty until the initial excitement of her return had passed.

And that had prompted Lavender to bring her to every staff meeting, every consult, and every ward round – not just that day, but every day. She had even brought her to Healer Roundtable discussions where assistants were not allowed, and dared anyone to say anything about Rose's presence.

Scorpius found it hilarious.

Henrietta had not.

Oh, and each time they had passed that same administrator in the halls, Lavender would just smile and Rose would wave simply because she was a little shit sometimes.

Okay, most times.

The strange thing was that what started out as a blatant act of defiance quickly turned into Lavender unofficially expanding her job duties. Healer Brown had never been much of a talker while she worked, but on Rose's second day, she began walking her through her Healer tasks, explaining the reasoning behind each action and revealing tricks of the trade that made her job easier.

She began testing Rose's ability to diagnose an ailment, showing her what to look for and how to rule out similar illnesses. And by day four, Lavender was teaching her spells that she had only heard Scorpius mention, and discussing their practical applications. She gave her books and research studies for her to read – with the expectation that there would be a test.

And the tests never stopped.

Healer Brown would ask random yet pertinent questions at the most random of moments and expected an answer immediately. When Rose didn't know the answer, she helped her find it without criticism. When she got the answer correct, Healer Brown would nod in approval or even smile. But most importantly, she would allow Rose to execute her correct answer under her watchful gaze, beaming with pride with each successful spell and diagnosis.

Day by day, her lessons became more intricate; her tests more complicated, but Rose accepted each and every challenge. It was almost as if she were her student, and while she found it all bizarre, she found she had little time to let her mind to wander.

In fact, she was surprised at, well—how much she enjoyed it.

How much she still was enjoying it.

And that was a major difference.

It was nearly two when they finished seeing patients for the day: the last being a very sick wizard who had been put through days of potions and magical testing, which had only made him worse. They thought he had misused a dangerous spell, which had been the reason for Healer Brown's consult. After shaking her head to every one of Rose's diagnoses, she determined that the patient had an aggressive version of a non-magical illness: the flu.

She ordered pepperup to help his symptoms – as the potion only cured the common cold and not the flu – but Rose quickly noticed the patient's bicorn allergy in his chart and spoke up before it could be administered. In the end, he had to go about recovery without magical assistance, and Lavender saw that he was transferred to the Muggle Maladies ward for proper care.

They were headed back to her office after the consult when her boss said, "Excellent work."

"I just read his chart. Nothing special…" Rose shrugged awkwardly, still not quite sure how to accept praise.

"It's more than your intelligence that makes you smart."

She only blinked in response and asked, "How did you know he had the flu?" Then she remembered. "Oh, right, Muggle doctor. You've seen it a lot, then."

They approached the lift and her boss pushed the button because Rose's hands were full. "I've never gone to specifics with anyone, but I was a General Surgeon in the States. In St. Mungo's, it would be something in the vicinity of what Scorpius does in the Trauma ward when he's reattaching Splinched limbs."

"Sounds intense," Rose involuntarily swallowed at the thought. "Why didn't you pick the Trauma ward to work in when you came back?"

Lavender looked thoughtful, if a little hesitant to answer, but she did anyway. "Humans, both with and without magic, are creative with the ways and means they use to hurt each other and themselves. Those with magic use Unforgivable curses, hexes, poisons, and dark artefacts. Those without use guns, knives, and bombs; just to name a few." Her jaw worked several times before she could get her next words out; the move made more dramatic by the distinguished claw marks on her cheek. "I found myself weary from the violence and carnage of it all, and it was hard to detach from it. That was one of the things that prompted me to leave medicine in the first place…"

She stopped talking as a couple of Medi-witches passed by, sneaking glances at them and then whispering to themselves. Giggling. Rose just stared at them, giving go away vibes with her eyebrow raised, until they looked away and down. And if she allowed her eyes to follow them until they disappeared from sight – well, she felt completely justified.

"Scorpius told me you travelled a lot for research," Rose resumed the conversation.

"I did," she replied carefully.

"Neutralising magical objects?" She'd only known that because Scorpius had told her all about their conversation, but he'd also picked up a few books on the topic and scoffed his way through them because he didn't like theoretical magic much.

Okay, at all.

Even though he was always reading books on the topic.

Lavender's research topic of choice was theoretical, at best – as it had been derived entirely from books and theories. But there had been a few similar real-life incidents that had been noted. Like when her uncle, parents, and Professor Longbottom had destroyed Voldemort's Horcruxes. But that hadn't been so much magical object neutralising and more destroying pieces of his fractured soul.

Scorpius seemed to think that stabbing the dagger with the basilisk fang would have the same desired effect as it had on Tom Riddle's diary and Helga Hufflepuff's cup. However, any sort of attempts at neutralising the dagger wouldn't destroy it; it would just turn it into a regular dagger.

In theory.

"I shouldn't be surprised that he discussed our conversation with you," Lavender shook her head in bemusement, but Rose found herself unable to respond as she was unsure what to say or how to interpret her comment.

Was she upset? Did she care that Scorpius had discussed their chat with her?

Honestly, he hadn't said much; only that they'd talked about her interest in the theoretical topic of deactivating magical objects. Scorpius wanted to bounce ideas off Lavender as it related to what they knew about the dagger and whether it would be possible to neutralise it long enough to get it back to the Department of Mysteries. He'd mentioned it in passing; as casual as he had mentioned the fact that it looked like rain. And Scorpius certainly hadn't divulged anything about the specifics of their conversation or the questions he'd asked that obviously resonated with her boss.

Rose snuck a glance at Lavender, mouth pulled into a thoughtful frown. Lavender's armour was hard; tough as Goblin Silver, and further toughened by scars, trauma, and years of experiences.

All of which had sculpted her into a person who was incredibly hard to read.

"Whenever I tell people about my travels," Lavender continued slowly. "They're more curious about the things I've seen and done; the cultural magic I'd learned. But not Scorpius Malfoy. What are you trying to cure? That's what he asked. Did he tell you about that?" When Rose dumbly shook her head in response, Lavender chuckled joylessly. "I wasn't a target of his father's at school, but Draco Malfoy always knew just what to say to get a rise out of someone. In that way, I suppose Scorpius is more like his father than not."

Rose found herself standing up straighter, ready to defend him. "He's not like that. He's—"

"I know," her boss said in response, patting her shoulder with an expression that – thanks to her scars and claw marks – seemed harsher than her words. "But he asked a good question and it shocked me, if I'm being honest."

And though she never involved herself in anyone's business, as she had enough going on in her life, Rose still found herself asking: "So, what's the answer to his good question?"

"It's complicated, as a lot of things in life often are."

Rose wouldn't disagree with that, given the last month and a half of her life.

"I find that the answer to that question changes every day."

What did that mean?

"I suppose you can say that I was running away from my problems by travelling, but I didn't get very far. Problems have a tendency to follow you wherever you go…in one way or another."

Rose understood that all too well.

"Why did you leave Medicine?" she found herself asking randomly.

"I wanted to help people who were in the same situation that I'd been in – barely holding on to life with no hope. I wanted to find atonement through saving them. I did not."

Out of the millions of questions running around in her head, she blurted out the first that came to mind: "Atonement for what?"

Lavender bristled at the question, but then she sighed, watching as the arrow moved to the next number, indicating the lift was on its way to pick them up. "There's a certain type of clarity that's found in the moment between life and death," she told her, voice brittle. "When I woke up everyone kept asking me if I remembered anything, but I still don't to this day. Everything happened too fast…"

Her boss looked to the left, then right, before focusing on the shut doors. Her face was a mask of stone, but her voice betrayed her struggle and spoke of her complex feelings.

"But I do remember thinking, knowing that I was going to die. Even after your mother saved me, I laid there, completely aware and accepting of my fate…" she trailed off as the air around them seemed to thicken to the point where Rose momentarily held her breath, before releasing it with a small shudder, feeling cold inside. "But here I am. Alive."

She didn't sound particularly happy about it, and it was oddly morbid how Rose understood her right then. Not that she had been through anything of the sort – not even close, but Lavender hadn't asked for what had happened to her. And more than that, she sounded trapped; locked in a cage of emotion she couldn't break out of.

Well, Rose could relate.

And that was why she was seeing a therapist every Tuesday.

But as she snuck glances at her boss, she found herself wondering if Lavender wanted freedom or if she preferred the safety and the familiarity of the cage. The thought made Rose swallow thickly, turning back to the files in her arms that she counted. Right then, numbers soothed her, calmed her thoughts. Helped her focus.

Everything remained silent until Rose felt like she had to say something. So, she croaked out a statement that would have irritated her had she been in her boss's shoes. "You got lucky."

It had seemed like the correct response, but it wasn't.

"Lucky isn't a word I'd use to describe my survival."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she waited for the doors to open.

"What word would you use?"

"The butterfly effect that keeps on rippling." The doors opened and they stepped on together. Lavender waited until the doors shut before pressing the correct number. The lift started moving.

The tension of their conversation thus far had all but settled into Rose's bones, which could easily be blamed for her next blurted question. "Like the multi-verse?"

Lavender's scarred cheek twitched in what almost looked like a smirk, which was a far cry from the frown she'd been sporting. Rose could literally feel the storm cloud over them dissipate as the tension eased.

She exhaled her relief.

"I like you, Rose."

Honestly, she didn't know how to respond to that so she remained silent.

The lift moved slowly between the floors and Rose took to watching the moving dial rather than her boss. "When your mother asked me to take you on, I was hesitant, but I was out of Assistants that were willing to work with me. She said you weren't easy, but you were worth it." At that, Rose finally looked at her as she adjusted the files in her arms. "She was right, you know, but Hermione often is."

She gave a half-hearted shrug, allowing her mind to wander to the nearly daily conversations she'd had with her mother since that evening in her kitchen. Conversations where Rose had learned that while her mum was right about most things, she still could be wrong sometimes, too.

And that was fine.

More than fine.

They had small dialogues over tea where her mum had shared her own personal struggles, and Rose had confessed more of her own. They had longer conversations while she braided Rose's hair where she felt safe enough to vent about her frustrations with everything and with herself; a place where her mum had listened instead of attempting to fix her. Rose told her mother about her fight with Lily, but not every detail of what had led to it. The conversation had left her tender enough for her to air more grievances than she'd known she felt. Things she'd buried. Covered. Ignored.

They pushed and pulled, but also listened to each other.

They laughed and cried, but also taught each other.

And somewhere in-between, they found a balance they'd never had before.

It was tenuous, but held steady.

Each conversation helped them to get to know each other, not just as mother and daughter, but as humans. They realised that, as people, they were more alike than different; both stubborn and struggling to adjust to the changes occurring in their own lives. And more than that, they were both willing to tear down the walls and barriers between them in order to build a sturdy bridge of reconciliation that would take them towards a better relationship.

Her mum had finally acknowledged the personal growth Rose had already made; the small changes she hadn't noticed because she'd been too focused on the overall picture. And Rose – well, she stood in her shoes as a mother whose daughter had never given her much to work with; understanding her concerns and fears on a different level.

It didn't mean that everything was suddenly perfect. There were things they still needed to work through, disagreements to process. Their relationship was under construction, but they both were willing to do the work to finish the project.

"You would make a brilliant Healer, you know," Lavender confessed after they exited the lift on her floor, and Rose didn't mind the change in subject. "I know you don't want the responsibility, but it's unavoidable…whether you end up here or in another career."

Rose understood that on a fundamental level, but had only thought of Healing once as a career choice. When she was seven. Then she changed her mind.

Healing was something Scorpius had gained interest in over the years. He'd never expressed it outright, but Rose knew that his interest initially had a lot to do with Astoria's illness and his quiet desperation to revert her back into the mother he'd so fondly remembered. As he grew older, his reasons had evolved as his interest morphed, but he never strayed too far from Healing – much to the dismay of his mother's family.

Rose enjoyed her job, but that had a lot to do with the her oftentimes difficult boss and her prickliness. But she was doing a thing where she was expanding her mind, considering things she hadn't even fathomed.

"I do enjoy this, but give me some time to think it over, all right?" Healer Brown just looked at her, eyebrow raised. "I just don't think I'm ready to make a decision. Not now."

She would think about it. At some point.

Her boss seemed to understand what Rose was trying to convey, and gave her a short nod. "How are you doing?" Lavender asked with the slightest hint of concern in her voice. Rose would have missed it had she not been paying attention. "Jane didn't want to be betray your confidence, but she gave a slight indication that your Ministry Inquiry didn't go so well. I thought I'd ask you myself."

"That's an understatement," she snorted. "But how am I doing? I'm settling into things…" Rose trailed off, adjusting the stack of patient files in her hands.

"I mean, outside of work. Mentally."

She opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but her boss gave her a look, which changed her mind. "Things are…exactly the same, but different."

And that was the best she could do.

It had been a true statement, made even more so by her first therapy appointment on Tuesday. She'd done her own research, got some advice from Uncle Harry after a duelling lesson, then narrowed her options down until she found one not too far from work. Scorpius had gone with her because he wasn't busy, and he sat in the waiting area with a book on theoretical magic until she finished.

Then they had Italian with Jane, Al, and Quincy because nothing cured raw feelings like carbs.

But she was going to go back.

"Sounds about right." Lavender opened the door to her office with a wave of her wand, gesturing for Rose to enter first. She did, depositing the patient charts on the first clean surface she could find – not that there were many.

Her boss was notorious for being rather blasé about anything she found mundane, so her file documentation was always behind. Rose had spent an entire week of afternoons organising all the loose parchment while fussing at Lavender each time she tried to leave before she'd caught herself up.

That week, however, she'd started leaving it to Rose.

It really had been for the best.

She'd expected Lavender to sit at her desk and continue reading through the latest in research that interested her, but her boss grabbed her bag out of her bottom drawer. And then her jacket.

Rose's eyebrow shot up. "Going somewhere?"

Because Lavender rarely went anywhere for lunch.

"I'm going for lunch with a few friends," Lavender said casually, which made Rose blink rapidly in surprise. She'd hardly ever mentioned anything about her friends.

Or family, now that she thought about it.

Rose knew that she had them.

In theory.

Well, sort of.

Her mother had died after a short illness and she'd mentioned her father once, but Rose got the impression that, while she'd returned at her father's insistence, she wasn't close to her dad as he had expectations of her that she hadn't fulfilled. As far as her friends, her mum mentioned she had been best friends with the Fitness Guru, Parvarti Patil, while in school. But that was it.

"Oh, I—"

"I do have friends, Rose," her boss smirked. "And sometimes, I do have lunch with them."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "I was just going to invite you to lunch, that's all, but since you have plans…"

"Lunch with you and Scorpius?" Lavender deadpanned. "I rather like not being a third wheel."

Rose made a face. "Third wheel?"

She gave her a pointed look. "I'm not blind, you know."

"Umm…"

"There are whispers about you."

"I'm aware," Rose scowled in annoyance, then sighed. "I'll bite. What are they saying about me? Actually, I'll guess. There's the fact that I was at the centre of a murder investigation."

Lavender gave her a look that spoke volumes, but offered nothing. She glanced at her watch, twiddling her fingers as she visibly calculated how much time she had to make it on time while Rose chuckled in amusement. Her boss seemed to figure that she still had enough time and actually sat in her chair before gesturing for Rose to do the same. "You should have a seat for this."

"No thanks."

Shrugging, she folded her hands in front of her; her body language screaming that she was trying to break hard news to her. "The rumours are actually about you and Scorpius…"

Rose just blinked.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, and?"

Lavender gave her an odd, but humoured look as if she were speaking to a particularly stubborn patient. "Okay, I'll continue on. I generally don't care about rumours as I've been the subject of them since my return last summer, but it's hard to ignore it when people outright ask you about your assistant and—"

"This is about when I broke his nose." The look on Lavender's face shifted from amused to perplexed, as she mouthed the words: broke his nose? Rose sighed, deeply regretting even asking the question that led them down that particular avenue. She couldn't believe that they were still going on about that. Honestly. People didn't have anything better to gossip about? "Yes, I broke his nose, but people thought we were snogging. I actually fell on his face."

There was a beat of silence before loud laughter rang out in the small office. It was high-pitched and jarring in its candidness; showing more of Lavender's smile than she'd ever seen before. She looked ten years younger, scars and all, but the fact that they'd cycled through at least three emotions during their conversation didn't make up for the fact that Rose was irritated by her delight at the catalyst for everything that had happened between her and Scorpius.

"It's old news," a sulking Rose said when her boss's laughter had finally subsided. "I haven't gotten a Howler in weeks."

"Parvarti would never believe me, but I think I'll keep this to myself. For now."

She shrugged because it was the truth. "I don't care what you do with it. That's what happened. Not what the press reported." And mercifully, their actual snog hadn't been captured by anyone. Neither one of them. Bloody hell, had any of that been captured, the media would be relentless. Rose shuddered at the thought, but pretended that it had to do with her next statement. "All those Howlers for nothing. Scorpius had to use four cleaning charms to get the scorch marks out my carpet."

"You made him clean up the Howlers?"

Rose blinked at her slowly. "Of course. We had an agreement."

Lavender blinked. "He has the patience of an oyster."

Which was accurate, but not necessarily relevant to the conversation.

"About the talking walls," Rose made no point to hide her impatience. "What about them?"

"Since you're so anxious to know," Lavender gave her a pointed look when she scoffed loudly at the remark. "Word to the wise, Rose: everyone has a reputation in this hospital, even you. Yours has little to do with your family or that the Muggle Maladies ward named after you."

Something she constantly tried to forget about. "What does it have to do with, then?"

Her boss started listing them, adding a finger for each point: "You never use your name to get ahead, you're good at what you do without trying, you nap in the tea room after your shift, and you eat all the free snacks."

All true.

"Oh," Lavender snapped her finger with a tiny shake of her head as if she had just remembered something important. "One more thing: you're always in close proximity to the Medi-Witches' favourite Level Two Healer." Which stopped Rose – who had started sorting through files during her second point – in her tracks. "You know him, right?" her tone turned sarcastic – like it had been with that administrator. "Blond hair, blue eyes, and about one hundred and seventy-five centimetres tall, per Witch Weekly. He's best friends with your cousin and the sole Malfoy heir."

"I'm best friends with him, as well," Rose argued weakly, knowing she sounded every bit as uncertain as she felt.

"Sure you are," was her dry-as-the-desert response.

With a scowl, she shot back, "You think you're funny, but you're not."

"I'm hilarious," Lavender deadpanned, leaning forward, resting her hands on her desk; her voice almost playful in its sarcasm. "Just like you're hilarious if you don't think people have noticed the fact that you come in and leave with him…every single day."

"Oh."

Well.

There wasn't much Rose could say in her own defence.

Scorpius was—well, Scorpius. Not to mention, another one of those things that hadn't changed, but was entirely different. It was difficult to explain, and she'd hoped to go on for a long time without having speak aloud on those differences. But it didn't seem like that was going to happen.

To me, you're everything I've ever wanted.

Rose would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about his words or the weight they carried.

Because she did.
Often.

His words had been simple. Direct. There'd been little room to misinterpret their meaning or the feelings attached to them. And that made them heavy. Distracting. Overwhelming. Their weight had made her legs weak and threw off her natural stride of blissful unawareness.

Now, she was aware, but not so much as to where the hell any of that had come from.

Perhaps the heaviness of his words had to do with the fact Rose never had a chance to respond in any way – not that she could. All she could recall in the aftermath were the sounds of passing cars, barking dogs, and footsteps of strangers on the concrete. But louder than all of those noises had been the hammering of her own heart, the swell of that odd feeling from before, followed by the sudden onslaught of emotions she still couldn't process.

Not that any of it mattered.

One moment, Scorpius was speaking, the next he was pressing his lips against her forehead in a kiss so soft she thought she'd imagined it, and then Rose was alone on the front steps of her building, blinking and breathing hard like she'd taken three stunners to the chest.

Because what.
The fuck.

For the last two weeks, Rose had gone through several stages of shock, swaying back and forth from disbelief to outright denial like a pendulum with no horizon to ground it. How in the hell was she supposed to respond? Did he even want a response? What should she think? How should she act? How should she feel? What the hell was she supposed to feel? She couldn't possibly be everything Scorpius had ever wanted when she was – well, who she was as a person. Rose was only just hanging on; a barely functioning mess of anxiety, insecurities, flaws, and freshly open wounds she still needed to patch up.

To come from a family like his, Scorpius was the least chaotic person she knew; as consistent as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. He never waffled or stirred. He made clear and rational decisions. He never strayed or wandered. Scorpius was every bit a creature of habit who had gone to the school of certainty.

And yes, Lily's words might have been crass, but they weren't completely untrue.

Rose was none of those things.

She was messy, challenging, and sometimes too much of a lot of things for her own good. She knew how to take something effortless (like her friendship with Scorpius) and muddy up the waters; whether on accident or on purpose. She was stubborn and set in her ways, but also fickle, which made no sense, but she didn't always make sense. Some days Rose felt like she had made real progress, but other days she was pretty certain she'd regressed back to childhood.

She wasn't a logical choice, nor was she a sure thing.

Rose knew perfectly well that she never would fit into his future as the head of his family; would never be comfortable with the traditional formality of it all; the galas, charity events, and social posturing.

Hell, she still got anxious to the point of light-headedness under the lights and flashing cameras.

More than any of that – because she had no right to even think those thoughts – she barely knew what she wanted. How could she take on the role and responsibilities of being everything he wanted? Rose had no answers for any of those questions. She could barely made sense of anything because nothing made sense anymore.

And that had been her most prevalent thought over the last two weeks.

Truth be told, his words had been so nonsensical that Rose honestly had half the mind to ignore everything he'd said with a litany of justifications, blame it on a moment of sentimental insanity, and dismiss it all as lip service.

And she'd tried.
Honestly tried.

On every single replay, Rose would scoff her disbelief and voice her own theories about his behaviour.

No, he didn't mean it like that.

He was trying to make her feel better.

He was trying to ease the pain of the verbal blows Lily had landed.

Because he was her friend and friends said things like that to cheer each other up. Right?

Right?

So, Rose swept up his words to throw them away, but as she stood over the rubbish, she found herself stuck. Found that she couldn't throw them away. Couldn't forget them.

It might have been the sound of his voice, hushed and intense in the near darkness. It might have been his eyes and how calm and steady they were; how they looked directly into hers as if he had nothing to hide. It might have been how, in the midst of her justifications of his words, she found herself comparing his actions that night to all his previous ones and not finding any difference. It might have been the tender way he'd kissed her on his birthday and how his self-control had all but collapsed outside the Burrow. It might have been the way he'd touched her fingertips as he spoke; how he was always so careful and aware of her. It might have been all those things and more – other intangible thoughts and actions that were beyond her limited comprehension of emotions that were more complicated than baseline emotions like happiness, sadness, and anger.

Rose didn't know.

All she did know was one thing:

No matter how ludicrous his words were or how little sense they made, she actually believed him.

But that hadn't made anything less strange or easier. Or less terrifying. He'd been honest with her, but so what? What did that mean in the grand scheme of things? Everything he'd wanted? Of all the witches in the world, why her? Rose had no idea. But constantly hammering of his words in her head had made her think. Reflect. Look again at that funny unknown feeling that was still sitting on the front row of her mind; the feeling that had been annoying the ever-living shit out of her for weeks.

"Nothing to say?" Lavender looked supremely amused.

The files in her hand were supremely important. "I think I'll have these done before I leave."

Was it hot in there? Rose was literally sweating.

Her boss leaned back in her chair. "You're not as good at avoidance as you think you are. The rumours will be waiting for you to pull your head out the sand, so to speak."

The rumours?

Well, they weren't exactly…erroneous.

For the most part.

Scorpius had started coming in early with her and leaving when her shift ended, but that had to do with his strong work ethic and determination not to get behind on anything because of the training classes that occupied half of his day. And well, despite her struggle with carrying the weight of his words around; despite her fickle and complicated feelings on the entire matter, Scorpius hadn't pushed the issue and she hadn't pushed him away.

Not that she could, but whatever.

In fact, by the time she'd recovered enough from her shock to go back to her flat, she'd found everything put away, Al and Jane gone, the clothes on her bed and chair folded and put away, and Scorpius changed and asleep…

In her bed.

And she'd been emotionally worn out enough to take off her shoes, turn off the lights, and climb in next to him.

From that night on, they'd fallen into a silent routine. They left work together, and spent their evenings how they normally would. Alone, together, or somewhere in between where they spent time with their friends. There were still game and movie nights. Now that it was warmer, Scorpius and Al had started playing Quidditch with some of their mates after work. She'd had multiple dinners with her parents where they had Hugo on video call because they all missed him sorely – even though he was happy in Italy. Two days ago, Jane, in need of fresh air, had dragged them all on an evening boat ride on the Thames where they watched the sunset and drank wine.

There were all sorts of different activities on different nights, but the constant in her life was that after everything was done, Scorpius came through the Floo and stayed the night.

Every night.

And honestly, as convoluted as their dynamic had been and how fatigued she'd been from carrying his words around, she hadn't slept as well in weeks.

On the very first night, the sleep she'd fallen into had been so consuming that she hadn't woken up until Scorpius started complaining about her possessed alarm clock – which often set itself for ungodly hours. Thanks to her mum. Rose had learned how to sleep through it, but not Scorpius. It had woken them up so early the morning after her fight with Lily that he'd decided to go for a run before sunrise.

Then he'd had the nerve to drag her out of bed to go with him.

But after bickering and complaining – oh, and the fact that he'd physically dragged her along with the sheets, comforter, and pillows out of bed – she found herself a willing participant in his insanity that morning…

And every morning thereafter.

Scorpius liked running because it was simple; just them, their kits and trainers, and the great outdoors of whatever trail he'd Apparate them to in moments of spontaneity he'd never been known for.

Or maybe he'd asked Teddy because his cousin enjoyed nature. She wasn't sure.

Because Scorpius wasn't a habitual runner – preferring Quidditch and swimming for exercise – he wasn't particularly gifted in speed. Which worked well for Rose on their first two days of jogging because she ran like an newly born fawn, constantly tripping over her own two feet and bumping into trees she should have seen; going batshit whenever a bug flew into her face and screaming whenever a spiderweb brushed against any part of her body.

It took six runs for her to stop asking him to leave her there to die, and two more for her to notice the difference in her mood throughout the day. Yoga and meditation with Jane were much easier. Channelling that focus she had during her runs while duelling with her uncle had earned her more points and proud looks. Rose found herself feeling less stressed and anxious. Stronger and more connected. She slept better and hadn't had as many nightmares.

No, she couldn't keep up with Scorpius in any capacity, but he never left her behind. And yes, she spent more time looking at his back as he ran in front of her, but she didn't even have to carry the weight of his words with her.

They rarely talked; only speaking long enough to agree on a stopping point as they both preferred to wear headphones and listen to music synched from an ever-growing playlist Rose had made from a phone she hardly ever used.

It was peacefully picturesque, even in the hour before dawn, and Rose found herself enjoying the end of their runs when they both were flushed, sweaty, aching, and the front of Scorpius' hair would hilariously stand on end – to his complete annoyance. They would walk together to cool down, listening to music with softer beats and hypnotic synthesizers that made her feel present and in the moment with him as they watched the sun peek over the horizon from a different vantage points each day until it was time for them to Apparate back.

The rumours?

Well, they likely had to do with the fact that even though they went back to their separate flats to shower and dress for the day, Scorpius always came through to make breakfast. Just coffee, eggs, toast with jam and butter, and a green protein smoothie he swore had no vegetables, but he was a lying liar that lied.

But it wasn't so bad – not that she would ever tell him.

After breakfast, Rose would scramble to get ready and rather than go back to his flat, Scorpius came in with her so he could get some work done in the quiet hours before his office-mates showed up.

And if anyone had seen them coming out of the Floo together each morning, she hadn't noticed.

Lavender was still staring at her expectantly, and maybe Rose's looks were more expressive than she thought because all she said in response was: "That seems complicated, but matters of those kinds always are, more so when combined with insecurities and fear. I suggest you work through whatever is going on in your head."

She may as well have told her to climb the Himalayas in the middle of an avalanche.

Impossible and dangerous.

What was going on in her head was incomprehensible at times.

It felt bigger than her.

The questions stretched higher than the mountains; the answer further than the stars.

"Uh, thanks for the advice," Rose said dryly. "I've got a lot to sort through." She cleared her throat. "Parchment, I mean."

"Parchment," Lavender repeated in the same tone.

She kept her next sarcastic response to herself to show just how much she'd grow as a person.

Only just barely.

Under Lavender's watchful gaze, Rose gathered all the files she'd intended to document on during lunch with Scorpius – who undoubtedly would be doing the same – and was about to find her favourite quill when her boss abruptly said, "You're not as lost as you think you are. Not about anything."

Which made her look up because, yes, she was pretty fucking lost.

"You just need to find your point of reference, but in order to do that, you'll first need to take off the blindfold you've been wearing and clear your mind of all the clutter. You'll never see what's in front of you until you do."

Lavender glanced at her watch again as she rose to her feet and walked around the desk to where Rose stood, clutching her quill in her fist and the files to her chest.

"I think that the only person holding you back is yourself. Deep down, under all that rubbish, you know what you want, but you won't allow yourself to entertain the thought of actually getting it." She looked away, trying to see if there was something she was leaving behind. Her boss kept talking anyway, "You're scared, which is okay. It's normal to have fears and worries; it's okay to doubt yourself and not understand everything. But it's not okay to let those things keep you from committing to the idea that you—"

Rose interjected with a snort. "I'm sure you know all about my commitment issues."

Probably from her mum.

"From my own observations, yes."

And that shut her right up.

"I used to find it odd that you were sorted into Slytherin. You have a lot of their qualities, but they're rather motivated, and you—well, it took a while, but then I realised that you're just selective with yours."

"I aspired to exert as little effort as possible, to not care what people think, and to be left alone."

Lavender's eyebrow lifted. "How's that working for you?"

She almost bristled at the question because ouch, that hurt.

"It's not," Rose confessed with a scowl.

It hadn't been working for her, especially not as of late. The more she thought about it – because her therapist had planted the seed during her first session – the more Rose understood the flaws in her way of thinking.

In refusing to exert any effort, she'd buried too much – too quick – beneath a foundation too weak and flimsy to handle the weight; and due to her own neglect, all it took was a little digging to create the sinkhole she'd fallen into. In refusing to care about what people thought of her, she'd rebelled against human nature itself and lied to herself in the process. She cared about what those closest to her thought of her – more than she'd realised – and how she'd felt when Lily had thrown their family's opinion of her into the argument had shown her just that. In wanting to be left alone, she'd failed to understand the full reality of it.

"I thought so," and though Lavender had her arms folded across her chest in a way that made her appear patronising, her tone was anything but. "When something stops working for you, it's important to know when to let it go. I think you're past that point. What do you think?"

She had a point, but Rose was too stubborn to utter the words aloud.

Not that it mattered, because Lavender tilted her head to the side and smirked. "You should work to find a new normal that'll work for the person you're becoming, even if you don't know who she is yet. I'm not telling you that you need to hurry up. Where you are is part of your journey that's specifically yours, but it's also important to not let yourself get lost in the weeds and stuck on the particulars. Doubt, fear, anxiety. They aren't always negative. Feeling that way can mean that you're not content with staying where you are; that you're trying. And because you're trying, it means that you care more than you're willing to admit to yourself. It means that you want."

She looked down at her feet. Better than looking at Lavender, who was speaking words she found herself wanting to listen to and comprehend, but understanding made her chest feel odd.

"It's okay to have wants, Rose. It's also okay to be scared of wanting something." Lavender rested her hand on her shoulder, gently asking, "What do you want?"

And that was too complicated of a question to answer on an empty stomach.

"Whatever it is," her tone was gentler than Rose had ever heard before from her boss, which was bizarre because she didn't look soft because of her scarred face. "I find there's a different sort of thrill in doing something that scares you."

Rose snorted. "Says the Gryffindor."

"Says the human," she corrected with a serious, but fond look on her face.

"Well, this human's brain hurts from all the thinking I've had to do," she tried to joke, but it fell flat.

"My advice: don't be afraid to think out loud and ask the questions that are obviously weighing so heavily on your mind. Don't be afraid to speak about your own feelings, good or bad. Chances are, you aren't the only one who feels the way you do. You're not the only one who's confused and scared. Even the most dependable people are afraid and self-conscious. Logical people sometimes have to take a leap on nothing but faith alone. And those we think are confident may experience negative emotions – like doubt and uncertainty – that can cloud their judgment. Their fears may be different from yours, or maybe even the same, but they are there nonetheless."

Rose met her gaze finally, taking a deep breath before she did so. "I'll think about it."

"See that you do."

---

Scorpius was waiting for her in the empty lounge area where they normally met for lunch, standing and checking his watch instead of already seated with his hummus, cucumber, and tomato sandwich out.

Or whatever vegetarian creation he had come up with that morning.

Today, he didn't have any files with him, which caught her attention second. The first being the fact that he was no longer dressed in Healer robes, but grey trousers, a white button-down shirt, and a black tie. More formal than his normal casual attire, which likely meant something to do with his parents. He'd gone home to change, and judging from the single container of what smelled like some form of chicken, he had returned with food.

For her.

He looked up when she was close, smiling as he adjusted his glasses with a flick of his finger. "Hey."

"Hey." Reflexively, Rose smiled back as she sat the files down on the table. "What's going on?"

"I'm having lunch with my parents," the smile on his face slid off like paint on a wet canvas; his lack of amusement very clear with his next statement, "My mother's birthday is Sunday."

Ah.

Well, Rose knew it was coming, as it was two days before her Uncle George's birthday.

March was almost over?

Well, good riddance.

While her uncle's birthday had always been a brilliant family and friends only affair, it was the exact opposite of his mother's celebration that was a rather public affair. Astoria had always celebrated her birthday in a weekend-long extravaganza of dinners, parties, and activities – no matter what day of the week her actual birthday fell on. It was better that it would fall during the celebratory weekend that year, as she would plan more activities on her actual birthday if it had fallen during the week.

Her reason for such overindulgence had a lot to do with her half-life due to her blood illness, and not knowing if it would be her last. Besides, she'd survived far longer than any Healer had projected and that alone seemed like a good reason to celebrate lavishly.

It made sense in a morbid way.

Scorpius was generally tolerant of her elaborate festivities; if quietly exasperated with the entire event before it had even started as it shook him too far out of his routine. Based on the grim look on his face, that year wasn't going to be any different. The activities he enjoyed – as his mother had a tendency to do 'bucket list' activities that were entertaining. Al and Scorpius had thoroughly enjoyed hot air balloon racing last year with Scorpius' cousins – something Rose would not have liked even if she had been invited.

She was terrified of heights.

But the parties and formal dinners? Well, Scorpius had never liked parties, preferring books to most people. And at parties there were always too much going on. Too many people. Too many airs he had to keep. And navigating a dinner with the Greengrass and Malfoy families, from Rose's limited experience, was about as simple as alchemy.

The two families didn't agree on anything.

Well, except for the fact that Scorpius had been the best thing to come from the union.

"I'll see you Sunday night after it's all over. I'm sure there will be stories," she chuckled, stepping closer to him to straighten his tie. He smelled nice, Rose noted absently, like soap, books, and something spicy yet familiar.

Scorpius cleared his throat. "Actually, my mother personally invited you to attend this year."

"What!" Rose's hand went rogue. That was the only excuse she had for why she yanked on his tie like it was a damn leash on a wild animal. Scorpius, unprepared for the sudden tugging, stumbled forward, flailing as he lost his balance. He grabbed blindly at her to keep them both upright, only barely managing to succeed in his mission. His hands were gripping her pink assistant robes; his face far closer than it should be.

Oops.

Suddenly, Rose understood what a bug felt like when it got caught in a spider's web. She found herself stuck under his unreadable gaze, unable to move; a fountain of unidentifiable craziness bubbling inside of her. Which was…different. Weird. She could feel his breath on her; feel the heat radiating off him like it did when he slept. The weight of his eyes on her were about as heavy as his words had been, so she took to staring at his nose and eyebrows instead of his blue eyes.

Or his mouth.

What. The. Hell.

"You can let go now," his voice was too low; his tone so calm he almost sounded expressionless.

Even when his face wasn't.

Even when he was looking at her with eyes she couldn't read.

Rose released him immediately. "Sorry."

With a shrug, Scorpius smoothed down his tie and shirt, but didn't step back like she'd expected. He stayed in her space. Or was it his space because she'd tugged him into it? Rose wasn't sure about anything, except his proximity and the little voice in the back of her head that repeated his words to her constantly.

To me, you're everything I've ever wanted.

Damn it to hell.

"You're not serious about your mum's invitation, right?" That was all she could think of to say in that moment. Because while Al and some of his dormmates went every year, Rose had never been invited – not that she wanted to be around his mother any more than she had to be. "She's never liked me."

"I'm aware. However, she was serious," and that was something he clearly found suspicious as hell, judging from the look on his face. "I'm certain you'll find an owl with an invitation when you get home today."

"It's a trap."

He'd clearly missed her joke because he didn't roll his eyes or smile. "I know, I'm not forcing you to come." Scorpius said evenly, mouth briefly turned in a frown until he glanced at her.

Only then did his eyes soften into something that oddly tugged at her in a way she didn't understand. Even though she tried, she found the answer was just outside her realm of comprehension. Still, she watched him closely as he spoke, biting back her own frustration and registering what she could…

Like his expression that was both unreadable and open, which made no sense, but did, in a way that spoke to who Scorpius was as a person. He was mulling over something pretty hard, but wasn't ready to give anything away. Not just yet. It was a look she'd seen a lot over the last two weeks. And, well, actually. Now that she was seeing it so clearly – because he was standing so damn close – Rose realised that she'd seen the look long before that.

Months before.

No, years.

Rose sometimes had no reason behind some of her actions; especially those concerning Scorpius as of late. Seriously. It annoyed her, but she'd made peace with the decisions she'd made that had ended up complicating their friendship. Sort of. In a way.

It wasn't spontaneity or an impulse that made her ask her next question, but rather a little nudge that awkwardly propelled her forward. "Do you want me there?" she asked almost in a whisper, lowering her head to look down at her hands.

Then her feet.

Then off to the side because she was busy wondering why the hell she was speaking so softly when he was right there.

Well, perhaps that was the reason.

Scorpius reached for her hands that was at her side; his fingertips brushing against her wrist. The action made her look up at him, eyes slightly wide. "Do you want to be there?" he asked in a voice just as soft.

And that was enough to make Rose shove aside the weird mood she'd found herself in right then, cutting her eyes at him. "Oi! You just answered my question with a question. Are you trying to be difficult?"

Scorpius used every bit of smugness that he'd inherited from his father to smirk and lean in just a bit more, which made Rose angle her head to meet his amusement with a glare and some eye squinting of her own. "You never did like getting a taste of your own medicine."

Familiar alarms started going off in Rose's head. There was something in his eyes, and the way he was speaking to her. His inflection was full of satisfaction, his eyes expressive, and his smile seemed almost cheeky. Just when she was within reach of whatever had tripped the alarm in the first place, his face returned to his default look of calm focus.

Which made Rose blink at him wildly.

"Trap or not, I'd like you to be there." Rose had noticed the fact that lately, he'd taken to making eye-contact when he was trying to emphasise his point; when he wanted her to see his sincerity. And he was doing it right then. "Al is bringing Jane, so you won't be alone with my family at any point." Which wasn't so much the issue, as she could handle his family, but she wouldn't mind Jane's serene but direct comments about her observations.

Besides, not everyone in his family was intolerable.

They had enough drama amongst themselves that they had little time to focus on her.

"I invited Quincy because, with everyone else coming, I didn't want him to feel left out," he was no longer looking at her but rather at his own hands. "And since Henrietta is coming without a plus one, I asked him if he could escort her—"

"Lovely," and she left it at that.

Scorpius looked at her, brow raised.

Well, wait a minute.

Rose thought about what he'd actually said, aside from the fact that she would be trapped in an enclosed space with not one, but two witches that didn't care much for her. Attending meant she would be expected to not lose her temper. At all. Which was a lot harder than it looked. Perhaps, Jane could come over with those Tibetan Bowls beforehand to cleans her energy or whatever. Fix her Chi. Meditate. Hum. Pray. Whatever it took.

However, she had one last question: "If Quincy is Henrietta's escort, who am I going to being as my plus one?" Rose asked offhandedly. "I suppose I can ask James or Louis. Teddy's bringing Victoire, obviously. But wait. Fred's coming home for his dad's birthday, maybe he can come with me." Which would be perfect because Fred would keep her laughing with his hilariously perfect impressions of everyone there.

"Well, I was thinking—"

Rose was still on her train of thought. "I'll need someone with me that'll keep me sane."

"I'll be there."

She snorted, "I'm sure your mum has you escorting someone she's deemed suitable."

After clearing his throat, Scorpius looked around awkwardly as he scratched the side of his neck, then he spoke, "I'd like to escort you myself, if you'd like. As my date."

Her answer was out before she could process the question. "Okay." Then she thought about it, cringing. "I mean, your mum is going to be mad as a bag of ferrets, but—"

"I'll handle my mum."

She knew perfectly well just how much her face conveyed her complete doubt in the entire matter, but Rose still said, "May the force be with you."

He rolled his eyes, but chuckled, "That's the second Star Wars line you've quoted in the last two minutes."

So, he had been paying attention. Good to know.

"Taught you well, I have," Rose said in her horrid Yoda voice as she rubbed her hands together. "Mmhmm." Then she started laughing at herself.

Scorpius chuckled, not seeming to mind her odd sense of humour because he tucked a flyaway behind her ear. "Enjoy your lunch," and then he flashed a small smile. "I'll see you tonight."

And, well, that was the first time either had voiced their arrangement – for lack of a better word – out loud. She thought about the eyes and ears on her and the fact that had anyone heard him, they would have more questions than answers. She should have cared; should have told him to lower his voice or not to speak of it at all, but for some reason, Rose didn't care.

Because the weirdness between them was no one's business except their own.

"Thanks for lunch," she smiled genuinely. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he replied sincerely.

Rose wasn't sure how to respond so she blurted out, "Thanks for—" she froze, cringing at the awkwardness. "Wanting to? Bloody hell, my ability to speak today is utter rubbish."

His smile widened into a grin, and hers followed suit. Soon, they were chuckling together at her ridiculousness, faces flushed. Rose couldn't help but notice how almost boyishly charming she'd found him in that moment; reminded how much she liked the way his real smile would make his eyes brighten and crinkle in the corners.

Scorpius glanced at his watched and sobered, which made her smile even out. "I've got to go."

"Okay."

She felt his fingertips brush against hers and their eyes held each other's just a little longer.

And then, he left.

Once she sorted her thoughts, Rose settled down at the table he'd left, first checking on the most important thing at the table: the food he'd brought for her. Baked chicken, boiled red potatoes and medley of seasonal vegetables that didn't look entirely horrible. And it didn't taste entirely horrible either.

Or she was hungry.

Regardless, it was gone in minutes and she was licking her plastic fork clean.

Hunger satisfied until it was time to scope out the free snacks in the tea room, she threw her trash away and made a note to ask her mum for more of those cereal bars that he liked so much. As a thank you. Then, she started working on the files, checking the little notes she'd made on each file to give her a better idea on each patient.

Time passed like that.

Medi-Witches peeked in, smiling at Rose until they realised that she was alone before leaving in quiet disappointment at the lack of Scorpius. All of it was strange. She hadn't noticed anyone intruding before, but it was likely because she and Scorpius – and sometimes Al or Jane or both – were debating about something completely relevant in its irrelevance.

Or they were talking while working.

Or she was napping on the table while he read…

Rose was halfway finished with her lunch work when she heard someone clear their throat.

First, she sighed, thinking it was yet another interruption.

Second, she looked up, ready to paste a smile on her face and pretend not to be irritated.

But it wasn't anyone she had expected.

Rose was on her feet, wand drawn, before the man could put down the box he was holding.

"What do you want, Alder Henry?"

The lanky man's eyes went comically wide as he dropped the box on the floor, keeping his hands up as if Rose were going to hex first and ask questions second. She really had the mind to do just that, but restrained herself. Only just barely. Keeping her eyes trained on him, Rose side-stepped the table, approaching him cautiously. Not exactly what she wanted to do, but running out the room wasn't as much of an option as he blocked the only way out.

Besides, only someone with an atrophied sense of self-preservation wouldn't have felt the urge to run away.

And she had the upper wand, so to speak.

So, she continued onward. Slowly.

And the closer she got, the more she noticed how different he looked from how she remembered him. And she did remember him. She remembered everything. Alder was still lanky and as tall as her dad, and his Unspeakable robes still hung looser on him than they should for someone his age. But he was so pale; far more than she remembered, and it made his black hair seem impossibly darker. At the end of her wand, he seemed a little haunted. Fragile. And oddly, she almost let his appearance make her feel better, but in the end, Rose refused to be that person.

Refused to gather her strength from the weakness of others.

Besides, his appearance was likely a product of working under the biggest bastard she had ever had the misfortune to meet.

Despite his exterior, when he spoke finally, his voice was clear and showed no sign of his visible angst. "I'm not here to cause any further trouble."

Which really had been the worst thing he could have said to her. "Then you shouldn't have showed your face."

"I needed to speak with you."

Rose kept her wand pointed at him, despite the earnest look he was giving her. "I'm not playing verbal games with you or anyone today. What do you want? Make it quick and be mindful that I'm not afraid to use my wand."

"I just want to talk," Alder replied, making gestures expressing his compliance.

Rose wasn't buying it. "You must think I'm some sort of idiot. You can go report back—"

"Barracus doesn't know I'm here," he said all at once. "If he knew, I'd be demoted instantly."

Well, that was interesting, however too convenient. She'd read enough mystery novels to know what the hell was going on, but remained quiet, keeping her wand levelled at his chest. "Keep talking."

Seemed like the best thing to say to get someone to talk themselves into a hole, but what did she know? She was winging it, at best.

"We're under strict orders not to approach you or your friends. Not until he's ready."

So, he had gone rogue. Interesting.

Although, it made sense as fear never inspired true loyalty.

"Ready for what?" Rose asked curiously, not really wanting to know the answer, but knowing whatever Barracus had planned for her was unavoidable. Best she knew what was coming.

Alder stepped back slightly and she found it odd that someone her dad's age was so nervy. The only time her dad got like that was when he saw a spider. Or her mum's canaries. "He still thinks you're connected to the person bound to the dagger. In some way. He'll stop at nothing to make you help us find it."

Barracus would be lucky if she didn't find a way to destroy the damn thing.

"I'm here because you didn't deserve what happened to you. I want to help."

"Why?" Rose asked dubiously, quickly glancing down at her arms where the sleeves of her robes covered her healed wounds and bruises. "I've been back two weeks, and you wait until today?"

"You're never alone," he countered. "And I can't have Barracus finding out accidentally." He looked away and down for a moment before meeting her eyes again. He inhaled once, then exhaled. "It doesn't mean much now, but I'm sorry for what happened to you. I had no idea he would—I tried to stop him."

And that was true. She remembered how anxious he sounded; how he tried to defend her, and how quickly he'd been dismissed back to his corner. Only then did she lower her wand, not fully trusting him, but she was more willing to listen to what he had to say.

There was also the matter of the box.

"What's in there?" Rose gestured to the package at his feet.

Slowly, he squatted down, hands still raised until he lowered them slowly to pick it up. "This is what Barracus offered you if you assisted him: access to the research on the dagger. It's not unlimited, but it's everything I could find and copy without alerting the wards, which would then alert him that someone was trying to remove unauthorised information from the department. It's the least I could do."

Rose stared at the box of valuable information, then cut her eyes back to him. "You haven't answered my question. Why do you want to help me?"

"You've met him. I think my reason is obvious." When she just blinked at him in disinterest of his typical answer, Alder sighed and gave her more. "Barracus doesn't care about the Greater Good he preaches about. He only cares about what the dagger can do for him."

She frowned thoughtfully. "And what is that? Power? He's one of the most powerful people in the Ministry."

"Power in title is nothing like having it thrumming through your veins."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," she recited something her uncle had said to them more than a few times.

Unspeakable Henry's eyebrow rose at her statement, "And you think he isn't corrupted already? Think about what he wanted to do to you because you refused to help him."

Fair point. After all, Barracus had gotten their secured files and thrown his knowledge in Al and Scorpius' face without hesitation.

"Barracus has been the head of the Department of Mysteries for fifteen years now, and he runs the department with an iron fist. Before he was appointed, he was the Undersecretary and lead the dagger research project with Unspeakable Brown. When it went missing, he formed a team dedicated to finding it – a team he still leads."

"A team that you're on," Rose deduced.

He nodded. "When the dagger was lost, I was in my first year as an Unspeakable; working under Unspeakable Brown as his assistant. After it went missing—"

"Or was stolen," she interrupted. "Because that's more likely."

"It is," he said evenly, standing to his full height. "The team was comprised only of those that had worked with the dagger directly, as we know what it looks like and what it can do. On both a theoretical and literal basis, as stories of Unspeakables being corrupted by it have been passed on in case studies. We've searched all over the world for years, looking into mysterious deaths that are similar to the ones that have happened at St. Mungo's. After your mother asked for his help, I don't think I'd ever seen him so happy. And when he found out that someone had managed to survive all these years while bound to the dagger without it completely corrupting or killing them…" he trailed off, looking fascinated. "Well, I can't say I don't understand his interest."

Rose pointed her wand at him, showing just how intriguing she found his statement.

"Pick it up and put it on the table," she told him in lieu of a response.

Unspeakable Henry did just that. Slowly. His hands shook as he seemed to struggle with picking it up. Was it that heavy? Rose wasn't sure, but she made him open it to see the contents before performing every anti-theft and every anti-enchantment spell she could think of while he waited patiently – even suggesting more that she hadn't thought of in an attempt to prove to her that she could trust him.

She still wasn't too certain, but when she touched the first parchment and she didn't find herself thrown across the room – or worse, dead – she at least knew that he hadn't meant her any harm.

And right then, that was all she could hope for in her current situation.

She cut her eyes back at the Unspeakable. "Why do you think he wants it so badly?"

"You've already heard what it can do."

"In my dreams, I've seen it kill," Rose said dryly, refusing to think any further on the statement.

"There are more benefits to the dagger, if you're bound to it. There's power, for starts. You can heal incurable diseases, do thing that aren't even possible through normal magical means, and even bring someone from the brink of dea—"

"You'll never convince me that a sentient dagger is actually beneficial to wizarding kind. I'm not a sycophant like your old boss – or whatever he is to you. The dagger feeds on magic like a vampire. You have to stab someone in the heart—"

"That's not exactly true. Your friend's mother knew a passable amount of information, but she never had much experience with it. There's no specific place that you have to use the dagger for it to work. It just needs to be instantly fatal." Alder shrugged clinically and that probably had to do with years of working with dangerous things she could hardly fathom. "It can be the heart or brain. It doesn't feed on their blood, like a vampire would, but rather the last pulse of magic a body gives off before it dies." When she just blinked at him, he gestured to the box. "It's all in the research I've provided."

Like that made it any better.

"And it if it's not fatal, it suppresses your magic," Rose recalled from her talk with Quincy's mum.

"For a length of time. It depends."

"On what?" Before he could answer, she shook her head. "You know what? I don't even care. You can say whatever you want, but that thing survives on the destruction of others, which isn't natural at all. No one can tell me that it's not a dark artefact when I've seen it in action. I'm not even getting into the fact that someone willingly bound themselves to it or the corruption aspect of it, because the less I know, the better I'll sleep. It does, however, make me wonder how you lot fed it for years."

"There are alternative food sources in the Department of Mysteries. That's all I can say."

Which was fine because Rose wasn't interested in knowing anything else.

"We kept it fed enough to live unbound, but not enough to keep it satisfied. It's always hungry for more."

And that was still disturbing.

She looked into the box again. "You obviously must want me to find the dagger and the person it's bound to. That's why you're telling me all this."

He shook his head. "No, I actually don't. I'm telling you this because Barracus has chosen you for this mission of his and it's better if you know more than you do right now. As it stands, you're woefully unqualified."

Rose exhaled a dry laugh. "I couldn't agree more."

Alder gave her a meaningful look. "I saw the room you were in when they found you. You got lucky."

Which made her bristle. "Not sure if accidently stumbling on a ward that made me feel like I'd completely lost my mind, falling into a room where someone was being murdered, being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse and then being stunned would be considered lucky, but what do I know?" She heard her voice getting more and more hysterical, but couldn't stop it. "Oh, and while I was unconscious, someone I don't even know had complete access to all my thoughts and memories and completely violated my brain with a rushed memory charm that only partly took. And then, to add insult to injury, they tried to compel me to confess to crimes I hadn't committed," and her tone was airy, but her expression anything but, "Nothing major."

He swallowed audibly. "That…doesn't sound pleasant."

"It wasn't," she scowled. "I didn't ask for anything that happened. I didn't ask for any of this. And your boss thinks my survival was some sort of demented clue."

"It was," he agreed with someone not even present, albeit reluctantly given the angry vibes he was surely getting from her. "Your survival shows that they have some restraint. That they can try to cover their tracks. They just aren't a mindless killing machine. And that's important."

"Lucky me," Rose drawled. "Henrietta thinks they're putting sick people out of their misery."

"Interesting," he said thoughtfully, "I personally think they're sending a message."

"What message could they possibly be trying to send by killing people?"

But the better question was: who were they trying to send a message to?

She never got a chance to ask the question because someone cleared their throat. Rose, already sick of the everyone in the hospital, leaned to look past him and caught sight of her boss in the doorway.

Lavender often oscillated in and out of her dark moods – that Rose had been used to witnessing. If she wanted, she always came out of it. Like earlier. She was used to her boss's sarcasm, her bossy nature, the quiet ways she showed Rose that she thought she was doing a good job, the way she silently judged the hell out of people for their misuse of vanity charms, and the many…many ways she'd professionally told people to fuck off.

That being said, Rose was not used to her anger.

And she was angry in a way that she'd never seen from her; that seemed almost out of character. So much that the sarcastic comment that had been ready to spring forth suddenly withered and died in her throat. Lavender's fists were clenched at her side—one had a wand in it, and Rose suddenly understood how James felt whenever she got into a fight at school.

How could she stop her before everything boiled over?

James usually picked her up and carried her away, but that wasn't an option. Rose didn't have the upper body strength for that sort of move.

Oh bugger.

"You're not supposed to be here. This is for employees of the hospital only." Lavender all but snarled as hot fury rolled off her in waves that Rose could feel from where she stood.

If she had felt it, Alder most certainly had as well, but he showed no signs of being the slightest bit bothered by her presence. "Apologies," he said demurely, but there was a hitch in his voice that betrayed his calm exterior. "I-I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to be here. Miss Weasley and I were speaking—"

"I don't give a damn," her boss said hotly as Rose's eyes got impossibly wide. "Get out."

"Sorry." Alder held up his hands, complying. He gave the very confused Rose a polite nod and walked out, passing Lavender who was practically fuming in rage. The two stared at each other for one long tense moment before the wizard Disapparated with a soft pop.

In the silence after his departure, Rose awkwardly stacked the file and dumped everything into the box. If she hadn't liked his presence, she certainly would not like what he'd given her. "Uh, what was that?" She finally asked.

Because what the hell?

"What did he say to you?" Lavender said in a tone that commanded a response.

Rose could have been honest, but decided a partial truth was a much better option. "He apologised for what happened at my Inquiry."

Lavender looked almost sick and Rose took a step back, wondering just what the hell was going on in her boss's head. "H-he was at your Inquiry?"

"Uh, yes." She blinked once. "He works for Barracus."

Her fist tightened. "Go home, Rose. I'll see you Monday."

And then she stormed off.

---

To be fair, she actually tried to sleep alone.

Rose did yoga stretches and drank the bedtime tea Jane had given her to help her relax; she took a hot shower and laid in the bed while reading at her book. She put on instrumental music, turned off all the lights and closed her eyes while counting. She got to three hundred before she gave up and started listening to the sound of the ocean, which was something Scorpius found calming.

It made her restless instead.

She moved on to the sounds of burning wood.
Then, night-time sounds from the woods.
Bird songs. River sounds. Wind chimes.

By the time her stomach rumbled for the fifth time, Rose gave up and kicked off the covers in a huff before getting out of bed. It was just after midnight when she wandered into the kitchen for a late-night snack. She wanted popcorn, but she always burned it, so she settled for chicken and mushroom flavoured pot noodles.

An excellent choice, she'd decided after the first taste of noodles and flavoured sodium.

She immediately heated up a second one.

Because it was going to be a long night.

Insomnia wasn't the worst of her problems, but it was one that was staring her in the face now that she found herself alone. It wasn't the sort of issue that could be resolved like other problems: she couldn't think, talk, or act her way out of it. The harder Rose tried to force herself to sleep, the less likely she was to actually do it. She couldn't rationalise it, so she ventured out to her table, armed with two pot noodle cups and a fork where she tried to ignore it instead.

That could work.

The box on her table caught her eye.

That also could work.

Rose wasn't sure what to make of Alder Henry or his box of information. The only impression of him initially had been clouded by the events of the day. She recalled everything from Barracus' entrance until her uncle broke down the door, but couldn't remember the tiny details. Like how he'd been when they took her from down to Level Ten.

Did he look at her once before he'd bound her wrists?

Because shit, that had been him.

How the hell had she forgotten that?

How was he holding his wand? Did he ever look at her directly? Important details now that he was apologetic and trying to help, but she was drawing blanks, except on the fact that he'd been nervous and scared when her uncle burst in the room. And today, where he seemed perfectly reasonable and helpful until Lavender came in and all but threw him out.

The entire exchange had been weird.

Weirder still that she'd all but vanished after storming off.

Rose had waited around for her to come back to continue their conversation, but after an hour of waiting, she gone home with the box. She had owled her dad and sat down with it and the Ministry files, prepared to sort through all she could in her spare time. But then her cousin Fred had dome through the Floo, having just returned to the country, and that had promptly ended her research plans. Fred had volunteered to come bring her back to the joke shop for more product testing, as they knew Rose wouldn't hold back her opinion – good or bad.

And that was how she'd spent the rest of her afternoon – with her dad, uncle George, and Fred; testing agents of chaos and kicking Fred in the shin when he tried to use her head as an armrest.

The tall bastard.

Then Aunt Angelina had brought Roxanne by and she practically attached herself to her older brother and that had been how their day ended. She and her dad had gone on to stuff themselves with fried chicken and played arcade games like they'd done so many times before. By the time she'd gotten home, Rose had fallen into binge-watching a new show and before she'd known it, it had been time to go to bed…if she wanted to not hate herself during their morning run.

Scorpius was still not there, but she was wide awake and had nothing but time now.

"Perfect time for some dark shit," Rose said to her empty flat.

Then she opened the box, pulled out the contents, and started from the top parchment.

Research was something Rose had always been good at – much like her mum. Hugo, oddly, had little patience for it until it interested him. In theory, she should have had the same opinion because research felt like homework: obligatory, structural, and involved the use of too many brain cells. But actually, Rose liked research because it gave her the excuse to eat delicious noodles (or snacks) and decide what she wanted to learn.

She made quick work, sorting through the entire stack of parchments, skimming through the content in order to categorise research on more manageable topics: the dagger's vague history, its properties and abilities, and the case studies and experiments done on the last survivor.

The last one?

Well, she wasn't going to bother with that one because at some point she actually wanted to sleep. There weren't enough pot noodles to make her enjoy reading their clinical research on someone who had lost their magic – with their detached descriptions and terminology that made her seem like a lab rat rather than a human being.

So, she started on the stack of parchment about how the dagger came to be in the possession of the Department of Mysteries. It wasn't terribly informative. The Ministry had seized it in its early days during a raid on the fortress of a wizard whose name and crimes had been lost to history. The Department of Mysteries had taken possession of it – as they did with all mysterious objects – to determine what it was and how it could be of use.

Dull.

Rose put the stack of parchment back into the box and focused on the second pile. Rose skimmed through pages and pages of boring details and drawn out narration of their unsuccessful attempts at figuring out how to use it until a researcher in the late eighteenth century nicked himself on the blade and lost his magic for two days.

And, well, that was when it got interesting.

Rose lost herself in reading, barely noticing the passage of time. She got up to find something to write notes on, which had been harder than she'd anticipated. Rose ended up finding scraps of parchment in her school chest, which did the job. By the time she'd sat back down, she found herself in need of a snack and brought the parchment she'd been reading into the kitchen with her.

Then again to get some milk and a tin of custard cream biscuits her mum had made.

She was busy trying not to drip milk on the parchment she was reading and making notes when the Floo behind her flared to life. Rose wasn't so much as distracted from her task, but she turned anyway just in time to see Scorpius step out; still dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing earlier.

He looked tired.

Research forgotten, she turned in her chair. "All right?"

Scorpius looked surprised to see her sitting there. "Why are you still awake? It's after one."

"I couldn't sleep," Rose shrugged. A bit of milk dribbled on her pyjama pants from the biscuit she'd dunked into her glass of milk, which prompted her to eat it before it broke off. "Besides," she said after she chewed it up. Delicious. "I had an interesting conversation with Alder Henry."

Suddenly, he didn't look as tired, joining her at the table. He stood over her shoulder, leaning in as he tried to read over her shoulder. Rose turned back towards her stack of parchment because she found herself momentarily distracted – not by the fact that he'd easily invaded her space, but the fact that he smelled exactly the same as he had early, only a little more like liquor now.

"What's this?" he gestured to the three piles of parchment on the table.

"Dagger research copied from the archives of the Department of Mysteries."

"He gave this to you?"

"As atonement, I suppose. I didn't look this particular gift horse in the mouth."

Scorpius chuckled as he sat in the chair next to her, adjusting his glasses as he reached for the parchment she'd been reading. Rose slapped his hand, which made him withdraw his hand. She smiled innocently in response to his scowl. "Find your own research. I'm in the middle of a riveting tale about a voracious, magic-suppressing dagger that'll feed from the person its bound to when it goes too long between feedings."

With a roll of his eyes, he reached for the first file her mum had procured for them, opening it and leaning back in his chair as if he were reading a good book. "Sounds fascinating."

"It is." Rose went back to reading, but not for long. "How was lunch with your parents?"

He visibly tensed. "It went so well that it extended into scotch after with my dad, then dinner with my grandparents at my dad's while my parents argued in the next room."

Not well at all then.

Rose awkwardly looked around before peeking over at Scorpius, who was calmly reading the file, not looking worse for wear. She'd always known how to read him to an extent and excluding certain looks, so she knew better than to look at the overall picture; knew to look closer at the little things.

Like his hair, which looked as if he'd run his hands through it too many times. Like his eyes, which showed an exhaustion too deep to have come from a long day. Like the worry lines that went from his nose to his mouth. Like the tension he carried in his shoulders. He was tie-less and the top two buttons on his shirt had been undone, which spoke louder than all of her little observations.

Scorpius cut his eyes at her, which prompted her to look away and down at the parchment in front of her. Knowing his answer, she still asked her question anyway: "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet."

Huh. Actually, that hadn't been the answer she'd expected.

No had been the answer she thought he would give.

Rose reached for a custard cream biscuit to eat in an attempt to keep her mouth occupied. Just so she wouldn't ask any other stupid questions. Halfway from the tin to her mouth, she paused to look at the deliciousness in her hand before glancing over Scorpius.

She offered it to him instead. "Here."

His eyebrow went above the rim of his glasses. "You're sharing?"

She rolled her eyes, huffing, "I do that sometimes."

His face reflected his extreme doubt on the matter. "You threw a pillow at Al when he ate one of your chocolate frogs after it had a good hop."

"I've learned to share since then." Rose argued.

"That was yesterday."

"Semantics," she offered the biscuit again, trying to suppress the same grin he had been biting back. "Do you want it or not? My mum made them with regular sugar, not that you care, but I had to wrestle my dad for the tin so you're lucky that I'm sharing. My dad doesn't fight fair."

He'd all but chased her around the house with her mum yelling at them both, but she'd ended up throwing her hands up and leaving them in favour of a book. They ended up playing for it over a game of chess. However, when Rose realised that she had no chance of winning, she turned to an old favourite: resourceful persuasion. She'd managed to convince her dad to split the tin because neither of them knew when her mum would make full-sugar biscuits again.

It was a win-win.

Scorpius accepted her offering with a private smile of his own. Where Al would have inhaled the biscuit without much thought – or even tasting it – Scorpius took his time to enjoy it. Rose gave him a second one before he could ask and joined in, eating one of her own while she went back to reading. Scorpius continued with his reading, flipping to the next page only seconds before making a small noise.

"What do you know about Healer Brown's family?"

That was a random question. Rose made a face, broadcasting her utter confusion. When she looked over at Scorpius, she found him waiting for an answer. "Uh, not much. Her mother died before she regained consciousness after a brief illness and her dad is still living, but they don't speak. Outside of that, she doesn't talk much about herself or her family. What does that have to do anything?"

"Alder Henry and Lavender Brown are first cousins."

Her eyes went wide while his went back to the file, reading on. Dagger research abandoned for something far more intriguing, Rose slid her chair closer, looking on. "What?"

"His mother is her father's sister. She married an American half-blood wizard and they lived there until his parents died during his Sixth Year. Her parents took guardianship of him, but let him finish school there. He moved here and started as an Unspeakable a few months before Voldemort staged his coup on the Ministry."

They were cousins.

"Earlier," Rose said carefully, pinching her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "She walked in on us talking and she – I'd never seen her that angry. I'm not even sure what happened, but she sent me home after finding out he'd sat in on my Inquiry. I waited, but she never came back."

Scorpius looked like he was trying to put together a complicated puzzle. "Did they act like they knew each other?"

"No." Then she thought about it. "Well, she seemed to instantly recognise him from behind, so perhaps? Neither of them said anything that indicated they knew each other. He actually looked – I don't know – frightened, even though he didn't sound like it."

He looked as confused as she had been while witnessing their exchange. "Try to ask her about it."

Well, that had been her plan all along, even before she'd known about their relationship.

"What did he tell you about himself?"

Rose frowned. "Likely nothing more than what you have in that file. He mentioned that he'd just become an Unspeakable when the coup happened. That he worked as Unspeakable Brown's assistant and he was on the team that had been searching for it all this time."

"Unspeakable Brown is…" he trailed off with a question.

"The head dagger researcher. Barracus tried to make him use an Unforgiveable on me when my uncle burst in the room." Scorpius' eyes narrowed and Rose looked down at her hands. "He and Barracus pretty much spent their entire career working together with the dagger. Alder said that he didn't think Barracus wanted the dagger for the Greater Good, but rather for himself. And its power."

"That would make sense," he fixed his glasses and looked at her after flipping the page on Alder Henry's file. "Do you think he wants to bind himself to it?"

"With an egomaniac like Barracus, anything seems possible. And now he knows that someone has survived this long bound to it, I'd imagine he'd be interested in figuring out just what made that person so special."

Scorpius eyed Alder's file with a frown on his face. "We can't give that dagger back to them."

"Um…that's been the plan all along." Rose reminded him. "Get them the dagger and eat all the carbs. I liked that plan."

"Sorry, but we need to change it," he said, voice edgy with determination. "Barracus, with that sort of power, is dangerous. A man like that won't just stop at being a department head. I can't speak to his motivation, but I do know that he wants that dagger too much. You already know what he's willing to do to accomplish his goals."

She shuddered at the thought, having experienced it first-hand. "Okay, okay. We destroy it. How?"

"I'm not sure," Scorpius closed his file and picked up the pages of research on the dagger that she'd already read. "I'm still working out the logistics, but what I do know is that we need to find it before Barracus."

Which would be easier said than done.

---

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of JK Rowling. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Hope everyone is staying safe. Quarantine has my fingers and brain working faster than before, probably because I've got time, so prayers up that we keep on this train of more than one chapter a month. Well, as we march through this, we've got some advice and a little more specific backstory on Lavender, scenes between these two knuckleheads (we'll talk about his lunch with his parents in the next chapter), more info on this dagger, and all the changes that have happened since Scorpius spoke his heart. Well, things are about to get interesting. In more ways than one. I've read everyone's suspicions about who has the dagger and this has been fun for me. Almost as fun as working through Rose's thoughts and feelings. Almost. Until next time. Happy reading and continue to stay safe.

inadaze22