Harry's Muggle car was a source of pride, an acknowledgement of his Muggle heritage. It was charmed with the latest safety spells—cushioning charms, a reversing alarm, and a spell that would colour a robber's hands red if they tried to force entry. But by the quiet of the car, Albus could've said there was a silencing charm on it too.

Lily was listening to her iPod in the backseat—Aunt Hermione had gifted her and Hugo magically charmed ones a few years ago, that worked within Hogwarts—and Albus was stuck in the front seat with his father. He'd been running the conversation through in his mind for weeks now, but getting to the part where he actually formed the words seemed to be the hardest,

"Dad-"

"Al-"

They'd spoken at the same time, and they both cut themselves of in anticipation of what the other had to say.

"You go." his father said quickly, frowning as the traffic came to another standstill in the busy London streets.

"I just wanted to say," he started carefully, "I talked to Professor McGonagall, and she said this trip could count towards two of my NEWTs, minus the examination part, which I'd return and take in May. And I'd also do my Astronomy NEWTs too, so I'd leave school with three."

He already knew what his Dad would say. If he really tried, he could achieve more than three NEWTs if he stayed in school. Most employers wouldn't take him seriously with only three, and if he wanted to push a quill at the Ministry—as he should want to—he should stay in school.

Instead Harry cleared his throat, "I think that's a good compromise, Albus. I still have some reservations about the trip," here we go, thought Albus, "but I wanted to apologise about how I reacted when I found out. I talked with your mother—" he sighed, "It's just difficult, Albus. I see so much of myself in you. James is a replicate of Uncle George, whereas your sister is exactly like Ginny was at that age—believe it or not. But you... I can't help it. You've got my stubbornness, my sensitivity, my intelligence. I was so similar to you, it scares me sometimes. You've even got my sense of adventure, which is probably why you're so keen to go on this trip in this first place. But it's like watching yourself make a mistake you still regret. But you're not me—and I need to stop projecting onto you. It's not fair. You're your own person, not me. So I apologise."

Oscar was hiding in Albus' sweatshirt pocket, and Albus stroked his fur gently as he mulled it over,

"Yeah, Mum pretty much said the same thing."

Harry shrugged, "I've come to learn your mother is usually right about these things. But even though you've got my approval, there's still some ground rules—"

"Dad, I'm seventeen. You can't-"

"One, you write to your Mum and I every week. Every week. And two, I know Taki is a lot older, and it's very new—a little too new—but if he pressures you into anything at all, you come straight home, and—"

"Merlin, Dad! It's not like that! It's strictly professional, and Taki's not like that." Maybe not strictly professional, Albus hoped, but they'd keep the kissing outside business hours.

"Alright." Harry seemed like he'd been wanting to say it, but seemed awkward now that he had. "Good."

Lily started singing from the backseat, "Albus and Taki, sitting on a broom, K-I-S-S-I—"

"Shut up, Lily." Albus hoped she couldn't see how red his ears had gone.

Friday 30th June

"I'm just not sure it's the best idea."

It was odd seeing her mother so heavily pregnant, but she handled it gracefully, manoeuvring around Rose without any notice of her bump.

"The dinner? Or dating a bloody Malfoy?"

Her father still wasn't happy with the news. She knew it was better to rip the plaster off sooner rather than later, but they'd reacted how she'd expected.

Her mother supportively, her father less than thrilled.

Hermione ignored her husband, clearing the dining table for dinner for the other occupants of the Weasley-Granger household.

"It's in the Malfoy Manor, you said?" Hermione asked for the third time that hour.

Rose was sitting at the dining room table, and Ron was in the kitchen, looking as menacing as one could while cooking beef stroganoff.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure."

Ron and Hermione shared one of those looks—rare as they were—and Rose knew something went unspoken between them, a memory they shared. Sometimes it was hard to imagine what they'd gone through at her age, but when they shared a look like that, she had an idea.

"I'm not sure what they're playing at." Ron said sharply, more to Hermione than Rose.

"People change, Ronald." Hermione didn't sound convinced.

"Neville's son is nice." Ron said to Rose, "A wee bit short, and a bit quiet, but if you met up with him over the summer—"

"Would I just ignore the fact that he's fourteen?" Rose replied and Ron looked a little sheepish.

"Scorpius is a lovely boy, Ron. Don't blame him for things that happened before he was born."

That was part of the reason the news hadn't gone down too badly—Hermione and Ron had met Scorpius plenty of times, and seen him in snippets at the Burrow as he grew up. Even with Rose's early hatred of him, they knew he wasn't a bad person. It seemed like her father was more caught up on his last name, than anything else.

"I don't feel good about it, Hermione. Those people, that house—"

He cut himself off. Her parents always answered candidly when asked about the war, but they'd never given more detail than the bare minimum.

"I know." her mother said softly, moving to Ron and squeezing his arm gently, "But if we continue the division and judgement, history will just repeat itself."

Her father relaxed a little at that, and Hermione took Rose upstairs to help with her hair.

"We're just both so surprised. It always seemed like you hated Scorpius." Hermione twirled a piece of Rose's hair, pinning it back against her head.

"I did, for a long time. But there was more to it than that." She wasn't going to tell her mother that an inherited curse had meant Scorpius had held her at arm's length for six years, so he didn't kill her.

Hermione picked up that wasn't all it was, but she didn't press it.

"Your father will get over it eventually. He's just blanching at the possibility of Malfoy blood in the family. The Weasley's have managed to avoid that for the last thousand years or so."

Hermione was joking, but it was a stark reminder. If they never solved the curse, and Scorpius and Rose did get far enough that they had children together, they'd probably be afflicted with the very same curse. It made Rose's stomach twist.

Rose arrived at the Greengrass's first. Scorpius hadn't wanted her to go to the Malfoy Manor alone, and he'd said there were pretty strong blood wards surrounding the property. In all honesty, she'd never expected it to go this far. She thought being invited was simply an empty gesture of politeness, but it seemed she'd caught Lucius's attention somehow. Maybe he'd suspected they were more than just friends.

What she wasn't expecting, was the welcome she received when she stepped through the Floo at Greengrass Manor. She'd gone for a deep blue cocktail dress in velvet, which she'd always been told complimented her hair, and was neutral ground for house colours.

When she arrived, she expected Scorpius there, but she hadn't been expecting a gasp as she stepped through the fireplace, as she brushed the soot from her face.

"Oh Merlin, look at her! Aren't you a doll!"

She'd barely stepped over the threshold before she was pulled into a tight hug, unmistakably similar to the ones Nana Molly would give whenever her grandchildren arrived at the burrow.

Over the hug, she could see Scorpius, dressed in his own dark dress robes, which made the furious blush he was sporting even more prominent.

"Grandma..." he said in an embarrassed tone, and the lady pulled away, giving her an approving once-over.

"Rose, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you!" she cooed, with a wink in Scorpius' direction. Rose didn't think he could go any redder, but he did.

His grandmother hadn't been what Rose was expecting. As far as the older pureblooded families were concerned, Rose had always imagined stiff upper lips and perfectly coiffed hair.

Aurelia Greengrass was none of those things. Her honey blonde hair, streaked with fine wisps of grey, was pinned in a messy bun at the back of her heads, and she was plump and comfy looking, dressed in mint green lounging robes, common house wear for traditional witches.

"Let me tell you, you're far more gorgeous than Scorpius let on. He tends to be a little slack in the details."

Scorpius was blushing so fiercely now, even his ears were pink, and she took a moment to enjoy the sight before replying,

"T-thanks Mrs Greengrass." she replied, still a little overwhelmed by the reaction her entrance had received, as well as the wafts of floral perfume that surrounded her.

"Please, dear child, call me Aurelia, for Merlin's sake." the older lady chided, petting her shoulder fondly. Her fingers sparkled with a multitude of rings, that made her seem all the more magnificent.

Rose had almost forgotten the others in the room, Aurelia was a presence all on her own.

"Rose, lovely to meet you."

Astoria was just a beautiful as Rose had expected. She had fair, honey-blonde hair like her mother, but Rose could see more of Scorpius here. Especially her softly rounded lips, just as blush pink and pouty as her son's. Rose would know, she'd dreamt of Scorpius' lips with the time she spent watching them.

Astoria kissed either side of her cheeks—very French, Rose thought—before stepping aside to allow her husband to greet Rose.

Draco was a replicate of his father. Rose had been expecting this too, so let Draco kissed her cheek with a perfunctory greeting and stood back.

It was strange to realize how entwined Draco's past was with her own parents, and she tried to picture a young Death Eater, facing Uncle Harry in the Room of Requirement during the final battle. She even found herself searching his nose for any lingering scar from her mother's fist, but found nothing. Whatever arrogance he'd had, it seemed time had rubbed it smooth. He was quiet and polite, saying nothing more than the bare minimum.

"Right, you're facing the Malfoys, eh?" Aurelia said, clapping her hands together, "Sounds like a good reason for a drink. Follow me, children!"

And she was off, with surprising speed for someone in mint green slippers. Following her gave Rose an opportunity to take in her surroundings, which—again—weren't what she was expected. Instead of a cold, elegantly decorated foyer, the place was cosy with warm earthy tones, and more plants than Rose could count. It gave the place a cosy, lived in vibe. She could picture a small Scorpius, toddling around, pulling the leaves off helpless plants.

Scorpius caught up to her, his parents had disappeared somewhere,

"How are you feeling?" he said quietly, and she couldn't describe the relief she felt at hearing his voice. Two weeks without him had been far too uncomfortable.

"A little nervous." she confessed, still trying to keep pace with his grandmother.

"Sorry about Grandma. She's a lot."

"She's awesome." Rose told him, and he seemed to brighten a little at that. "Where'd your parents go?"

"They're letting Grandma have her interrogation time, they'll pop by later."

Rose tried not to blanch at the idea of an interrogation as Aurelia led them to a huge kitchen, with gleaming marble countertops. Polished copper pots stood on the stove, and one wall was entirely glass, showing a glasshouse set up behind, with even more plants. It reminded her of the Burrow, in some ways, and the air was thick with magic and the earthy smell of dirt.

"She's a keen Herbologist." Scorpius explained, "You should've seen how disappointed she was by my E grade in Herbology last year."

Aurelia fetched three comically oversized wineglasses, filling them almost to the brim with a dark red. Scorpius and Rose took their seats at the huge breakfast bar. From what little she knew of other pureblood families, it was unusual for the residents of a manor to be in the kitchen, usually letting house elves do the dirty work. But Aurelia seemed at home.

"So, Rose, what do you think of the Malfoys?" she began, leaning across the counter conspiratorially. She was barely five feet, but the movement was nothing but elegance.

"Well, they seem—" she began, but Aurelia filled in the blanks.

"Filthy blood purists is the term, dear."

Scorpius accidentally inhaled his wine at this, coughing heartily with shock.

Aurelia shot him a look,

"If you snitch on me, darling, I'll string you up by your ears in the dungeons."

Scorpius took a moment to recover, "We don't have dungeons here."

Aurelia waved a dismissive hand at this, turning her intense attention back to Rose.

"You don't need to be polite, my dear. I've seen it all. Even my late husband fell prey to that nonsense, but I snapped it out of him quickly. I would've loved to see the look on his face if one of the girls had shacked up with a Muggle, but Astoria boringly fell in with a Malfoy. Scorpius knows how I feel about his other grandparents, and I'm not one to mince words."

No, Rose realized, she didn't seem like the type to mince words at all.

"But, it's part of the parcel when you mingle with families in these circles." Aurelia took a moment to swallow her wine, and Rose looked at Scorpius,

I told you she's a lot, Scorpius mouthed, before wiping the wine away with the back of his hand. Scorpius seemed mortified, but Rose knew immediately she absolutely adored his grandmother.

"I presume you know about the curse?"

Aurelia looked at Scorpius, and he nodded.

"Yeah, and I thought he hated me." Rose said with a smile, and Aurelia cackled.

"What is it with boys? They do nothing but brood and sulk over their problems! You should've seen the sulks Scorpius got into when he was a child. All it took was losing a Quidditch match, and he was slamming doors for days. My poor doorframes."

Scorpius looked absolutely perturbed, and she enjoyed relishing in it,

"He's just the same at school too. Did I tell you how he sabotaged my Polyjuice Potion?" Rose's early nervousness was fading a little, and she couldn't help but take part in the teasing of Scorpius. Usually she'd been the one of the receiving end of his jibes, so she'd take the opportunity to give it right back to him.

Aurelia grinned impishly, "Oh, darling, indulge me."

Rose lay the story out quickly, enjoying the way Scorpius hid behind his wineglass for most of it.

But soon the curse came up once more, and Rose was oddly relieved to have someone else to discuss it with. It was something of a burden, keeping such a big secret from her friends and family, unable to explain ongoing frustration with it,

"I'm a bit stuck, really." Rose confessed, "We've been researching for months, but the books don't even mention a curse like it. It's just pages and pages of supremacist ideology, and I'm sick of trawling through it."

Aurelia shook her head, much further through her wineglass than either Rose or Scorpius, but you couldn't tell,

"Dreadful stuff, really. The lengths that families go to ensure their lines are 'pure' is preposterous. It's not good for a family, you see the repercussions of the inbreeding in some more than others, but it's there. No offence to your father, darling." She told Scorpius, and Rose couldn't hide a snort of laughter.

"What you children need, is the advice of a curse breaker. They could scan Scorpius, and figure if there's any way you could break it."

Strangely, it was a thought that hadn't struck Rose before, and the idea gave her a thrill, "My uncle, Bill Weasley, he's one of the best there is. He works in Egypt, with my cousin James. I mean, we'd have to try raise the funds to get there. And though he'd give us a family discount, he works through Gringotts, so he'd have to charge us something."

Aurelia seemed to be thinking, but she waved Rose's concerns away, "It'll come together, darling."

Rose didn't even get through half her glass of wine before it was time to go—Aurelia had entertained Rose with stories of Scorpius in nappies—and Aurelia took them back through to the Floo.

Before they left, she gave Rose another crushing hug,

"Don't let the bastards get you down, dearie."

"Thank you, Aurelia, really." She really meant it. It felt nice to have someone to discuss the curse with, and Aurelia optimism was infectious.

Aurelia winked, before turning to give Scorpius a hug as well. Rose wasn't sure if she was meant to hear, she'd busied herself with preparing the Floo, but she caught the whisper without meaning to.

"You'd better hold onto this one, Scorpius. I like her."

"I will, Grandma, I promise."

Where the Greengrass Manor had defied her expectations, the Malfoy Manor affirmed them. It was beautiful, of course, but every corner of the home dripped with opulence and wealth. From the portraits on the wall that muttered as she passed them, to the gold gilded mirror over the entrance Floo, and the Georgian era furniture dotted around the hall, it screamed of old money.

Even the dining room table was far grander than necessary—she and Scorpius sat nearly a foot apart. She traced the elegant carvings on the table as silence settled over them, not sure where else to look. Her welcome had been perfunctory and stiff, and she'd tried not to think about what happened in these halls years ago. She wondered if Lord Voldemort had sat at this table too, in far darker circumstances.

The dinner was a test, and she knew it. Whatever Lucius had seen between her and Scorpius on the platform, he'd clearly taken it seriously enough to warrant a formal dinner. While he still referred to Rose as his grandson's 'friend', early courtship was taken far more seriously in pureblooded society. Scorpius was a month from being of age, an age where he'd be expected to pick a suitable wife, and quickly churn out another pure, white-haired son to continue the line. By her blood alone, Rose couldn't meet the prerequisites, so it was strange that Lucius had still brought her into his home. Maybe her mother had been right—people do change.

But she somehow doubted that.

"Rose, would you be partial to a cabernet? Lucius bought me a gorgeous Chateau Mounton on our last trip."

At least Narcissa was trying—it was clear she loved her grandson, and was willing to make an effort to support his choice of 'friends'.

"Yes please, Mrs Malfoy."

At that, Narcissa clicked her fingers, and a house elf appeared, quickly filling their glasses with a practiced motion, before disappearing again. Rose was at a loss of what to say, she turned to the room at large,

"Your home is beautiful, Mrs Malfoy. I love the chairs, are they... Georgian?" she hated the sound of the words coming out of her mouth, hated that she was trying so hard to impress these people. She knew what they thought of her last name alone, she shouldn't even bother.

But it seemed the right thing to say, Narcissa looked flattered, "Well spotted, darling! Yes, they are. I found myself rather inspired by our latest trip to Bath, and luckily my decorator has generous contacts in the antiques world, so we found the chairs with some ease. They're simply gorgeous."

Rose figured it would sour the mood if she pointed out the Georgian era was Muggle, and the chairs probably were too, so she took a sip of her wine instead, nodding.

The silence fell over them again, and Lucius seemed to be appraising the scene from the head of the table. She didn't like how she felt when his eyes landed on her, like she was being picked to pieces by him, and he didn't like what he found.

Scorpius was sitting so stiffly in his chair it could've been made from nails, and he made no movement as they first course magically appeared before them—some sort of seafood chowder with buttery croutons on top.

Rose picked up her outer-most spoon, but she saw Scorpius shake his head in her peripheral vision. She put it down—weren't you supposed to start from the outside?-but she realized everyone at the table was watching Lucius, waiting for him to take the first bite.

Lucius didn't seemed perturbed by this—god, how archaic!-and once he'd spooned the soup into his mouth, the others began to eat.

Rose didn't know if the food was good, it probably was, but it tasted like nothing as she mechanically chewed and swallowed, too focussed on the others to really appreciate it. It seemed Lucius was more engaged by the amber liquid in his glass, barely eating. She watched him empty it twice in the first course alone, and it'd been charmed to refill the second it emptied.

"Have you received your first set of NEWT marks yet, Scorpius?" Narcissa was trying her damnedest to fight the silence that hung over dinner, but it was a losing battle.

"Not yet." Scorpius replied, "I'd say we'll get them in the next few weeks. I'm a little nervous about them, though."

Narcissa made a sympathetic noise, "I'm sure you performed as brilliantly as usual, Scorpius. Have you thought anymore about your birthday? You're welcome to have friends over here, we could set up the ballroom for you."

Scorpius' shrugged, "I think we were just going to have a few drinks at the Leaky, nothing big."

"Hiding more 'friends' from us, Scorpius?" It was the first thing Lucius had said over dinner, and Rose had a feeling his nearly empty tumbler had something to do with it.

Scorpius didn't have a chance to respond, as Narcissa cut in,

"Lucius!" she said firmly, "Please."

The house-elves filed in to clear plates for the next course, the conversation thankfully interrupted. She saw the silent anger in the tightness of Scorpius' jaw, which ignited a flash of pity in Rose's gut. Lucius seemed not to care, tipping up his glass to empty its contents with a generous swallow.

"Have you known Scorpius for long, Rose?" Narcissa asked. They'd once again waited for Lucius to start—this course was braised lamb, with cherry tomatoes, crispy potatoes and wilted greens.

"Well, we met on the first trip to Hogwarts, but we didn't see eye to eye for a long time." she confessed, and Narcissa smiled. She was beautiful in a cold, classical sort of way, two drop pearl earrings shining against her neck. She reminded Rose of the Hollywood Muggle starlets of the thirties, sparkling in their black and white portraits, effortlessly glamorous.

"That sounds like our Scorpius, stubborn as a mule. An unfortunate trait in most Malfoy men, I'm afraid." But she gazed upon her grandson with fondness.

"The boy's not stubborn, he knows his worth." Lucius cut in. Since his first bite, he hadn't eaten any more, choosing instead to drink, "As all children of good breeding should."

It was obvious Lucius was trying to goad her, drive her to an outburst which proved that she was an uncouth half-blood with no manners. Rose's temper flared at the worst of times, but instead she gripped her fork tightly, chewing the lamb with more vigour than necessary. Scorpius, it seemed, was struggling too, clenching his jaw with a force that could've snapped it clean off.

"Lucius, must we speak of breeding over the dinner table?" Even Narcissa seemed annoyed, the space between her manicured eyebrows creased in frustration. Rose pitied her; she was trying so hard to keep the peace.

"Is 'good breeding' all that matters?" Scorpius said suddenly with a growl, and Rose looked at him, pleading him not to go there. A drunk Lucius Malfoy wasn't worth it.

"I daresay." Lucius replied sharply, before looking at his empty glass with a frown, snapping his fingers impatiently.

A house elf appeared, "The Gautier is empty, sir, shall I opens another bottl—"

"Yes, and hurry! And take these plates, I tire of this meal."

Rose wasn't even finished, but house elves cleared the food promptly, and they sat in silence, waiting for dessert.

It seemed like Lucius wasn't finished, however, and he turned an accusing finger at Scorpius, swaying a little in his chair,

"You see this room, boy? The size of our grounds, the wealth and gifts with which you've been bestowed? You live in luxury, and you have my forefathers to thank for that. You take it all for granted, but turn your nose up at our proud heritage, the pureness of our lines. Do you think we'd have all this if we'd muddied our blood with that of half-breeds and Muggles?! Do you think our power, and our wealth came from nothing?! The Malfoy name is a legacy, and you dare question it?"

Scorpius's neck with mottled red with anger, the same as his grandfather's. Rose cursed under her breath; she'd spend the last few weeks picturing how badly this evening could go, and it seemed determined to play out her fears. Rose wanted to stop Scorpius, to tell him to let it go. But she'd only ever seen him so angry once before, and it was impossible to bring him back from it, and she stood up to cut in, and take him away—

"Why would I want a legacy propped up with hatred? Why would I want to pass on a prejudiced, awful blood curse, just to ensure the blood of my children stays pure? And you speak of a legacy—what legacy? Men who blindly follow the word of a tyrannical leader, who wasn't even a pureblood?"

Lucius stood too, knocking over his crystal tumbler, its contents spreading across the table,

"YOU DARE—!"

"Lucius, stop this!" Narcissa hurried to him, setting his glass upright. Rose's heart lurched, her hands were shaking, "Can we not have a pleasant dinner? Please, Rose is a guest—"

Scorpius was stepping away from the table, quivering in anger,

"We're leaving. I'm sorry, Grandmother, thank you. But we should be going."

Rose didn't know what to say—she knew Scorpius struggled deeply with his grandfather, but she'd never expected such an escalation of events so drastically. It made her feel awful to realize that her presence had likely been the catalyst for such an explosive argument.

"I'm so sorry, my darling." Narcissa moved for Scorpius, "I'll take you both to the Floo."

They moved for the doorway; Lucius had slumped in his chair. Rose walked past him, trying to keep a distance, but was caught by surprise as his arm shot out, tightly encircling her wrist.

The other two were further up the hall, they hadn't noticed, and Rose squirmed,

"Let go!" she cried. His grip was tight, the pain of it shot up her arm, as she desperately tried to twist free,

"Don't doubt for a moment, girl, that I will do everything in my power to prevent you from sullying my line." his breath carried a waft of alcohol, and up close, she realized how blind drunk he truly was, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Stop!" she demanded, trying to desperately not to show fear, but her breath was coming sharply.

Lucius seemed to remember himself for a moment, letting go, and Rose didn't take a second to look back, rushing up the hall to the safety of Scorpius.

She took the Floo straight home from there. Scorpius seemed too caught up in his anger to notice the red mark around her wrist, and Narcissa bid them goodbye with teary eyes and many apologies. Rose was lucky that it was late, she managed to sneak past her parents' room to her own, so she could let the tears flow in peace.

A/N: Thanks for reading!