Chapter 12

A few months later...

"So, have you heard anything new about your mum's condition?" Emelda asked Scorp, nudging him as the owls flew in, carrying the daily mail.

"No," he sighed. "Ara's mum and dad are helping my dad as much as possible, but there aren't any guarantees. They've made considerable headway with their mouse trials, but their spell still needs some tweaks." He frowned, a bit dejected.

"I'm sure they'll figure it out in time," Emelda said confidently, reassuring him.

"I don't know... it's already November, and Healer Davies's... proggg... what's that word?"

"Prognosis?" Ara offered from across the table.

"Prognosis, yeah. She said that my mum probably won't survive past Christmas," Scorpius finished.

"Speaking of November, I'm absolutely infuriated that Zayden gets a Thanksgiving Feast when I don't. Granted, he didn't get the Halloween Feast here at Hogwarts, but I'm missing out on my mom's ribs and salmon! Ugh, I wish we were Americans," Ara complained, picking at her eggs.

"I've heard good things about their turkeys," Jayce commented, looking up from buttering his fourth piece of toast.

"Of course you'd focus on the food," Emelda scoffed.

"Don't mess, all right? Food is a necessary item for your survival, so don't dis it," Jayce shot back.

"OH! Dearie me!" Emelda cried as an owl tumbled into her food. "Klutzy, you sure live up to your name," she tutted, pulling a copy of the Daily Prophet from a plate of muffins. Klutzy hooted indignantly and flew off, spraying crumbs as he flapped his wings. Emelda unfurled the newspaper, scanning over the major stories.

"Blah, blah blah. Medrex opens new heart disease branch in Italy, high profile Sheilathan drama, blah, blah, blah, George Weasley launches new grass growing products, Granger-Weasley saves Totsy the Bulstrode family's house elf, the Holyhead Harpies destroyed by the Eagle Elites, blah, blah, thin-bottomed cauldrons prove to be an actual issue, France falls prey to terrorist activities, Marcus Flint breaks out of Azkaban, Scamander Family provides magical creature committees factual evidence surrounding the Peritrappsa's violent flatulence habits, blah.."

Scorpius and Ara spat out their respective drinks. "Marcus Flint broke out?" they screeched. The entire Hall turned to look at them.

Emelda blanched, furiously looking around. "Hush! You guys draw so much attention to us!"

"Give me that!" Scorpius snarled, snatching the newspaper out of Emelda's hands. Ara and he quickly flipped pages, finding the article. As they both read it (Ara's grandfather had taught her how to read upside down), they both looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement. They bolted out of their seats, carrying away Emelda's newspaper as they went.

"Hey!" she cried indignantly, but they had already made their way to Albus, some of the surrounding Hufflepuffs quaking in fear at the two Slytherins' presence. With one glance at the article, Albus was jumping out of his seat, pointing towards Rose, who had already seen the article and was grimly walking towards the other three. Once united, they strode towards McGonagall, who immediately ushered them out of the hall.

"I wonder what's going to happen..." Connor pondered, looking at the doors when they slammed shut again.

"Hopefully nothing too bad," Elliot muttered to his friend.

"You know, in Trelawney's class the other day?"

"What about it?"

"Remember how she was blabbing on about whatever planet or constellation?"

"Yup," Elliot confirmed, popping the p as he popped a grape into his mouth.

"She kind of went into this trance, with that really weird voice like - thissss-" Connor imitated, facial expression and all.

"So what? It's Trelawney."

"It seemed different this time."

"It's nothing. Her prophecies are a load of bat spleens. Forget it. I don't really remember it anyways, so it can't be that important."

"You were probably distracted with inventing new ways to snog the daylights out of Amy..." Connor grumbled.

Elliot sighed. "If only..."

Connor frowned, unhappy with his friends' casual dismissal. Trelawney's words played in his mind. Over and over again, they cycled. Did it actually mean anything?

As the Scorpio rises with the daughter of light

And the badger strips the rose of its thorns,

There is a darkness that threatens and will put up a fight

But only the black and white warrior can detect it

Should the warrior fail, the puzzle is lost

And the livelihoods of many will die as the cost

Warrior of black and white? Daughter of light? The Scorpio seemed to refer to the already infamous Scorpius Malfoy, and perhaps the Rose meant Rose Weasley. Badger... why did that sound familiar. BINGO! Hufflepuffs.

Albus Potter? Connor thought. It seemed feasible.

So the last kid would be Araluen, to complete everything. But if she's the daughter of light... No. There wasn't anything that suggested that that could be Ara. Maybe Emelda?

That doesn't make sense.

Puzzle? What puzzle? Who was that warrior?

Scorp, Ara, Rose, and Albus followed McGonagall's anxious pace to her office, looking at each other nervously. Ara met Rose's eyes, holding both determination and a hint of fear.

"Even Gryffindors get scared," Ara's father had once told her.

McGonagall arrived at the Gryffin statues, muttering a password and walking through the opening. Albus stopped mid step, and Scorp gave him an annoyed shove.

"Come on," Scorp grit out.

"I... I just got it!" Albus said in his epiphany, beginning to follow the others. "Gryffin statues guard a door. Get it? Gryffindor?" he asked excitedly.

Scorp rolled his eyes, Araluen looked thoughtful, and Rose smiled grandly. "Fast one, you are," Scorp scoffed.

Ara hushed him, looking at Albus curiously. Albus felt weird under her scrutiny. It seemed as if... and old soul was staring into his young one. Rose was about to shoot back a retort about Slimy Slytherins, but they arrived in the office before she could retaliate.

"Good morning, Minerva," Dumbledore called out from above their heads. "To what do we owe the pleasure of these four students' presence?"

"Unfortunately, Marcus Flint has escaped Azkaban. And unlike Sirius -" McGonagall cut off Snape's beginnings of a rant. "- we know for certain that he is a threat, and I hope to avoid a repeat of that."

"Wasn't Great Uncle Sirius an... annah...tahhh...guss?" Albus asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he attempted to recall that term.

"Potter's spawn," Snape spat. "I'm not surprised he can't recall a simple concept like an animagus. Your father-"

"Named him after you," Ara interrupted.

"was an arrogant - wait. What?" Snape enunciated slowly, glaring at the Zabini girl.

"Albus, tell him what your name is," Rose said lightly. McGonagall and Dumbledore looked on, amused.

"Albus Severus Potter," the Hufflepuff boy answered. "He told me that you were the bravest man he's ever known."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the young boy, but pursed his lips and pressed his mouth into a firm line, for once, speechless.

McGonagall smirked at Snape's response, barely restraining a chuckle. Dumbledore beamed at the young boy, but McGonagall hastily sent off her patronus, an elegant tabby cat, to collect the six parents. Within moments, the parents were flooing into the office.

First came Alex and Blaise, resplendent in their suits (Wizarding business had gone muggle in its attire in order to work with successful muggle companies), closely followed by Draco.

Harry and Ginny burst in, knocking Draco into Alex. "Watch it Potter," Draco growled.

Harry glared at him, but turned back as Hermione stepped out of the floo, hair wildly escaping from her professional bun. She didn't even pause to brush the ash off of her suit, dashing past the other assorted adults to squash Rose in a hug.

"I can't believe this," she muttered. "I can't, I can't!" she repeated, stroking Rose's hair.

"Scorp, Ara, you guys okay?" Blaise asked for Draco and Alex, both wringing their hands. Draco put a hand on Scorp's shoulder, while Alex and Blaise both gently kissed the top of Ara's head. Harry and Ginny fiercely hugged Albus, who squeaked in protest as the Potters squeezed him into a sandwich-hug.

At Harry's arrival, Snape found his voice again. "Potter, if you're intent to suffocate your own offspring, I'd gladly see to your new living arrangements in Azkaban."

Harry pulled out of the hug to look up at his former potions master, the man who had sacrificed so much for a love never meant to be. Harry nodded, once. "Thank you, sir," Harry said with the most respect Snape had ever heard from the man. Snape returned the nod, but then walked out of the portrait moments later. Dumbledore smiled kindly at the gathered group.

"I believe that we are all together, Minerva," he said lightly. McGonagall nodded, conjuring chairs for everyone.

"Harry, would you explain what you know so far?" McGonagall asked, settling down in her own chair.

Harry cleared his throat, as all sets of eyes were upon him. "As of four a.m. last night, one of the Azkaban guards was making his rounds when he noticed that Marcus Flint's cell was entirely blasted open. He ran into the room, but Flint was already gone. The room was covered in rubble, and... well, mud." Harry looked sympathetically towards Hermione. All of the adults knew where this was leading, but the kids looked cluelessly at each other. "There was one message. 'The Mudblood Must Die.'" Malfoy flinched, and Hermione gripped Rose's hand a bit tighter.

"We've sent out search teams to the immediate closest areas to Azkaban, but he could be anywhere. It's likely that someone busted Flint out, too, so it's practically impossible to know where to catch him. Flint didn't have a wand, and he had very little ability to use wandless magic. There must have been an outside force helping him, who could be hiding him anywhere."

"Question: why wasn't this on the front page of the Daily Prophet?" Alex asked, frowning.

"Ugh," Ginny groaned. "Parvarti's incompetent sometimes. She wouldn't rearrange it until tomorrow's issue, so she put a half-arsed article in the last bit for today."

"Well, we know 'Mione's a target. So, we should be looking at tightened security for her and her family, right?" Alex pointed out.

Hermione made a noise of protest, and everyone turned to her. "I don't know if that's really... necessary," she explained. Rose frowned at her mother, unable to see any logic. "I mean, you guys are dealing with things in France, so the Auror department is already low on people. You shouldn't need to-"

Harry's and Draco's mouths hung agape at her stupidity. "Hermione!" they both exclaimed, but stopped and glared at each other. Draco conceded first, waving his hand for Harry to go first.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? He's targeting you Hermione. Specifically, you. We're more likely, in fact, to catch him if we're around you. Are you going to put Hugo's life at risk, too?" Harry demanded, and Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"We should probably station security measures around all of Hermione's close friends, too," McGonagall suggested. "And I'd appreciate Aurors stationed around Hogwarts for Rose's and the other students' safety."

Harry nodded. "I'm working on that already Professor. We're going to have to pull out of France, but maybe the Department of Law Enforcement can help us, too."

"Why exactly is he after my mum?" Rose asked. Alex, Draco, and Blaise stiffened, while Harry just looked suspiciously exhausted. Ara and Scorp narrowed their eyes at their parents, while Hermione looked clueless.

"Well, Rosie, you know how I was warning you about the purebloods who still hate muggleborns like me?" Rose nodded. "That's part of the problem. This man also seems to believe that I killed his children - he's not right in the mind," Hermione explained.

"But you'd never do that!" Rose protested.

"I know," Hermione sighed.

"That's not all, is it though?" Scorp asked pointedly at his father and godparents.

"What else do you know?" Ara asked.

"No, there's more to it," Alex sighed. We went in to ask flint some questions that we had hoped would help us heal Astoria, but, instead... he spoke about some sort of prophecy surrounding your mother, Rose."

Hermione looked astonished at Alex. "Nice of you to tell me about this. Well? What did it say?" she demanded.

"Essentially, that you could be the leader of three other people in destroying the world and spreading darkness everywhere," Blaise said quietly. "They'd be your best friends, too."

Ginny gulped. "So this was just... just a possibility, right? This wasn't the certain future?"

"Well, if you're even to believe that Flint isn't completely crazy. You're correct." Alex confirmed.

"Do you know who?" Ginny asked nervously.

"Well, I'd say the gathered group of adults here are Hermione's best friends..." Blaise said quietly. Scorpius wanted to face palm. And as Scorp predicted...

"Malfoy's been on the Dark Side before," Harry pointed out accusingly. "So has Zabini."

"Oh that's rich, coming from the boy who had a piece of Voldemort living inside him," Draco shot back. "How do we know he didn't rub off?"

"You have no idea what it's like to be possessed by Voldemort!" Ginny cried, jumping to her husband's defense.

"Oh, that's right. You do!" Blaise scoffed. "Maybe this time, the Gryffindors will be the fighters for the Dark, seeing as they haven't endured the horrors of being on the Dark Side during the last war."

"So you admit it!" Harry cried out triumphantly.

"STOP!" Albus shouted, getting everyone's attention. "Don't you see? This is exactly what Flint needs! He needs us to argue and accuse, dividing us so that we slip up so that someone else dies! This isn't helping us or Hermione, so what is the point of accusing? We don't even know if this is for real!" Hermione and Alex smiled at the boy, and the rest of the room was silenced into shame.

Dumbledore started clapping slowly.

"That, my friends, is the answer to what the hell a Hufflepuff is," he grinned kindly at the young boy.

"Don't tell me you have a Zefron Poster, too," Scorpius groaned. "I swear, the things muggles do."

"You're in tune with Star Kid?" Harry asked the blonde incredulously. "Seriously, a Malfoy-"

"Anyways," McGonagall cleared her throat. "I trust, Harry, that we will have security within the week?"

"Yes, I will see to it," he affirmed.

"Good. IS there much else to discuss?" McGonagall asked, looking at each person in turn shrewdly.

"What about an escape plan?" Alex asked. "We always had evacuation routes for intruder situations in America."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin. Can't say I'm surprised," Ginny sneered. Blaise was beyond pissed.

"Just because some people are smart enough to have a back-up plan instead of charging blindly into battle without any brains does not mean they are cowards!" he growled. "Where were you when Hermione's parents were kidnapped? Where were you when she fought the people who wanted her dead the most? Did we run then? When the most psychotic Death Eaters attacked us? Did we join Death Eater Daddies? NO! We bloody FOUGHT for Hermione and her parents! Just because we aren't labelled as Saint Gryffindors does not mean we won't stand up and take action when it is needed! We are not cowards, you prejudiced bigot!" Blaise yelled.

"You need to open your eyes up to the rest of the world, Ginevra. The world isn't divided up into Gryffindors and Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Move beyond your ridiculous school rivalries because our children's lives are at stake!" Alex emphasized. "Don't you want your children to live? Wouldn't you rather James and Albus to escape than die?"

Hermione's eyes seemed to blacken every second the argument became more heated, but Draco noticed her hand twitching, straying towards her left forearm. Harry was now trying to defend his wife, but Alex noticed Hermione's stone-like composure as well. The children were looking at each other, frightened at the parental disagreements. McGonagall was trying to hush everyone when the room darkened, the candles exploding in a mess of molten wax. Alex and Draco looked at each other, nodded, and stupefied Hermione.

"Why the bloody hell did you stupefy Hermione?!" Harry roared.

"The room darkened, the candles exploded, and Hermione was doing something weird. When we stupefied her, it all stopped," Draco sneered slowly, as if explaining it to a five year old. "I'm a bit wary of Granger after Flint's prediction."

Alex went over to Hermione, and lifted the sleeve on Hermione's left forearm, where Hermione had been clutching at her shirt. Everyone gasped, it was bruised and battered into purple-yellow splotches. Not only that, but her faded "mudblood" scar was oozing a nasty black liquid.

"Holy Helga! What's wrong with her arm?" Albus shrieked worriedly.

"That's not a typical bruise," Ara said nervously. Rose's eyes were wide with shock.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione!" Ginny was shouting. Harry had lept to his feet, bellowing something as well, but Ara's mother and father were already in motion. Alex had sent off her patronus to St. Mungo's, while Blaise levitated her towards the fireplace. Draco muttered a quick word to Scorp, who nodded, but with worry lines creasing his young forehead. Draco and Alex shot various diagnostic spells as they made their way to the fireplace, but the results came up frustratingly blank. McGonagall was frantically sending portraits off to notify someone to take the children back to their classes. Alex rushed a goodbye, as did Blaise, who was closely followed by Draco and the distraught Potters. Once Professor Pucey arrived, McGonagall departed as well. In the span of two minutes, the Headmistress's office had become utterly silent - a stark contrast from the chaos beforehand.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Zabini, Mr. Malfoy, and Ms. Weasley, I know how confused you must be, but I will try to get Minerva to update you when she can," Dumbledore informed them before they left for class. "Don't worry yourselves to death, it would be counterproductive to your own lives."

Ara smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Professor." A few other portraits waved farewell to the students.

Luckily, their next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and they didn't have to explain their tardiness to Professor Pucey, who probably would have docked fifty house points each (except five for Slytherin), before hearing an explanation.

"Professor, we left our bags in the Great Hall... might we get them?" Rose asked, struggling to keep pace with Professor Pucey's quick strides.

"Why don't you practice a summoning charm?" Natasha suggested dryly. "You four are practically fifth years in terms of your spellwork. Give it a shot."

Ara and Rose frowned at each other. "Accio book bag!" they shouted simultaneously. As they passed the hallway leading to the Great Hall, soon enough, two book bags were clanging against each other and any obstacles in the way to their owners. However, both bags fell short by about half a hallway.

"Accio book bag!" Albus tried, and bumped twice as many walls as Ara and Rose's did, but got slightly farther. Rose and Ara were trying again when Scorp drawled slowly.

"Accio Scorp's book bag."

A bag cam whizzing at them successfully making it all the way to Draco's son, but from the opposite hall.

"How...?" Rose asked, dumbfounded. "Why...?"

"Forgot my books in the common room, it's a handy charm. Practiced it nearly every day last month."

Ara tsked, but Professor Pucey smiled.

"Nicely done, all of you. Forty points to Slytherin, twenty to Gryffindor, and twenty to Hufflepuff."

"You're so glad that Ara's not in Ravenclaw, aren't you?" Rose asked cheekily. Professor Pucey turned to face the Weasley girl.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked boredly as they entered her classroom. All of the other first years turned to look at them, and Natasha sent a stinging hex at Horatio, who at least attempted to block it. He was getting better.

"Half a point to Hufflepuff for trying," she sighed.

Ara, Scorp, Albus, and Rose sat down in their desks as Professor Pucey strode up to the front of the room. "Break up into your skill level groups!" she commanded. "Get a move on! Come on, folks, we've had these groups for over a month." It took awhile for the students to pack up their bags and move, and Professor Pucey was becoming more exasperated by the minute.

"Harper Hopkins! It should not take you that long to pack up your books and move them ten feet from their original spot!" she shouted irritably. Scorpius snickered nudging Ara.

"Professor Pucey is so American. No one else uses the 'English' system of measurement, anymore."

"I concede, it is rather dumb," Ara smirked.

"You are all going to attempt a rather difficult charm, in light of Flint's escape from Azkaban. Since it is likely that dementors will begin patrolling the British Wizarding World, it would be handy to know the Patronus charm. I do not expect many of you to do this successfully, as you are first years. Even Harry freaking Potter only learned it in his third year. Nonetheless, surprise me. You're guaranteed an Oustanding in this class this year if you do," Professor Pucey outlined. "Now, think of the happiest memory possible, and say 'Expecto Patronum'. Without your wands right now! Say it after me, 'Expecto Patronum'. Good. Now try it with your wands, and I'll be coming around to help out your groups.

"Expecto Patronum," Albus said gently, successfully creating a silver shield. It vanished before it could become corporeal.

"Nicely done!" Ara praised.

"Praise him," Rose muttered.

"My dad's helped me, without actually doing that, of course, since it's illegal," Albust hastily attempted to explain what he meant by helping. "He taught me how to find the happiest memory, though. Said it'd come in handy."

"Expecto Patronum!" Rose tried, but only got a wisp of silver. "Memory must not be strong enough?" she asked Albus.

"Could be," he nodded.

"Expecto Patronum," Scorp attempted, but got nothing. "Happy memories, pfft. What a pile of bat spleens."

"Scorp..." Ara said, hushing him. "Expecto Patronum," she cast lightly. The silver shield came easily, and she caught a hint at her corporeal form before she became too excited and vanished her patronus. "It was a dolphin! So cute!" she cheered.

"Interesting," said Rose. "Your mum's patronus is a wolf, right?"

"Well, we saw it in McGonagall's office. So if you had something called eyes and a brain to interpret the visual senses, then you'd have seen it," Scorp snarked, as usual. "Weasley's mum is an otter, based on the first night here at Hogwarts, I take it. My dad's the dragon."

"My dad's a panther," Ara added. "Albus, your mom's a horse and your dad's a stag, right?"

Before he could answer, a swarm of silvery planaria flooded the air. As it disappeared, all eyes were on none other than Horatio McLaggen.

"The child of Romilda Vane and Cormac McLaggen. Figures," Rose giggled under her breath.

"Why did it have to be... whatever that is?" Horatio groaned.

"Planaria, I believe, Mr. McLaggen," Professor Pucey said stonily, assumedly controlling her own shock.

Scorpius miserably failed in retaining his laughter, and Horatio glared at him.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Pucey said slowly. "Why don't you show us your corporeal Patronus? Hm? Have you managed, yet?" she asked pointedly.

Scorpius's laughter halted immediately. He narrowed his eyes, sensing the challenge. Looking straight at Horatio, Scorpius needed to wipe that smug look off of McLaggen's face.

"Expecto Patronum," he said determinedly. A full blown falcon began soaring around the room, eliciting a few gasps of awe and a shriek or two.

"Well done, both of you. Twenty points to Slytherin, and ten points to Hufflepuff," Professor Pucey said boredly.

"Hey!" the other Hufflepuffs protested.

"You, Potter," Professor Pucey had her wand out pointed straight at Albus. "If you cast a corporeal patronus within the class period, you'll receive twenty points, doubled." Professor Pucey eyed the rest of the class. "Back to work, everyone!"

"What was your memory?" Rose questioned excitedly.

"McLaggen's swarm of planaria," Scorpius smiled evilly.

"You're horrible," Ara sighed exasperatedly. "Seriously, what was it?"

"None of anyone else's business," he replied simply. Ara huffed, but tried her own spell again.

"Expecto Patronum," she casted, concentrating hard. This time, a silvery dolphin greeted her, nuzzling its snout against her hand. "It's beautiful..." Ara smiled.

"Expecto Patronum," Rose tried again, but still didn't succeed. "Okay, what sort of memory did you guys use?"

Ara looked to Scorpius, who met her gaze stonily.

"I believe we used the same one, so Scorp doesn't want me to share. Try something perhaps a bit more complicated than... eating chocolate, for instance. Sometimes, it's the strongest memory. It has to be happy, but it can also be bittersweet."

Albus attempted, concentrating hard. "Expecto Patronum!" he yelled, launching a koala bear that tangled around the waves Ara's dolphin was making.

"Forty points to Hufflepuff and twenty points to Slytherin!" Professor Pucey called out from where she was correcting Emelda's wand motions. It took Rose awhile to get a memory worth the spell, but when she did, her tigress was well worth the wait. It truly was magnificent.

"Predictable," Scorp scoffed dismissively. Rose had really had enough. Taking a leaf out of Ara's book, she disarmed him, silenced him, stuck him to his chair, and unleashed a few stinging hexes for good measure.

"And my tigress could eat your pansy bird any day, easily," she spat. Scorp's eyes narrowed. "Oh? How does it feel to have your happiest memory taunted? I thought you would be better than your father was, but obviously, you're worse!" Rose cried, storming off to Emelda's group.

Ara ignored Scorp's pleading looks. "You deserved it," she said simply, and Albus nodded. By the end of the period, Professor Pucey had disabled the charm, but Scorp sat sulking in a corner.

"Hey, Rosie," James greeted, plopping down next to her in the library. She looked at him through a curtain of ginger hair, and then looked back down, without acknowledging him.

"Rose? What's wrong?" James asked gently.

"Everything!" she nearly shouted, receiving a glare from the new librarian, Madame Gateaux. Rose continued in a hushed, aggravated whisper.

"My dad's dead! My mum's hospitalized! For Merlin knows whatever was on her arm. Scorpius Malfoy is a complete, utter, prat-"

"I thought the Malfoy bloke was all right?" James asked puzzled. "Albus and you have told us to lay off, but if he's done anything-"

"No James, he hasn't actually done anything, it's more his dry, cold, superior personality. He has enough sense to not touch on things like Dad's death or the rich versus the poor, or even blood purity. But, he just finds something else to insult, and while it's not as offensive, it gets tiring after awhile. The only one who can deal with him is Ara, but he respects her, well, treats her like an equal. Albus brushes everything off so easily, but Scorp... He just... gets to me, you know?"

"Yeah, Rose, that must be tough. I don't really know how to advise you, on one hand, it sounds like he doesn't mean any harm and that's just how he is. On the other hand, it bothers you. Maybe you should talk to him? Or maybe Ara? She could straighten him out, it seems."

"That's not a half bad idea..." Rose contemplated. "I'll try that. Thanks James."

"Plus, I heard Ara chewing Scorp out about it as I was coming through the Transfiguration Hallway."

Rose smiled, but not by much. "And as for your mum," James began, pulling out a letter from his book bag. "It's from Dad. He wanted to update you on Aunt 'Mione's condition."

Rose gingerly took the letter, hands shaking.

"Thanks James. Tell Uncle Harry I appreciate it. It means a lot."

James nodded before packing up and leaving Rose with his father's letter.

Dear Rosie,

I've asked James to give you this letter, so that I can update you on your Mum's condition. Alex, Blaise, -M-Draco (it's awkward writing his first name - Merlin forbid I speak it) and you mum's healer, Hannah Davies, have determined that its some dark curse first put into place by... Draco's Aunt. During the war, as you know. Healer Davies is doing a good job healing your mum, but we aren't sure how to completely rid of it. It's not life threatening, but it looks like we Gryffindors and Slytherins need to coop-

"Weasley!" someone shouted, interrupting her reading. There were only a few people who called her by her last name, and they were all Slytherins. Gavin Finnegan once spat it when she accidentally knocked into him in the hallway - and that Iridia von Loisson... And, of course, there was Scorpius Malfoy - who was the most likely of the three to be shouting her name in a library. Sacrilege.

"Malfoy." Rose acknowledged. "Watch out, Madame gateaux-"

"Oh blas madame gateaux to Pigfarts. My dad wanted me to give you this letter, about your mum's health. Oh- well. I see Potter has beat me to it," Scorpius's demeanour immediately soured as he glanced at Harry Potter's signature at the bottom of the page.

"Thanks, Malfoy," Rose said kindly, hoping to glaze over the Potter issue. "I really appreciate it."

"I'll just leave you to the words of a former Death Eater and his archenemy," Scorpius grit out, backing away quickly.

"Scorp-" Rose tried, but he was already gone. Had she really just called Malfoy by his first name? She shook her head to clear her thoughts, refocusing on the letter.

-but it looks like we Gryffindors and Slytherins need to cooperate. Alex thinks that Hermione, sorry, your mum's curse was activated because of the argument we had. I personally believe that's a load of bat spleens out of Merlin's baggy pants (your Aunt Ginny just slapped me now, pardon my French), but I guess that's Alex's way of shaming us into cooperation. Anyways, everything's looking okay, though your mum's going to have weekly check-ups to further investigate the matter. But in general, your mum's fine. She'll actually be discharged later tonight. Depending on how she's feeling, she may or may not come by Hogwarts to say goodbye. I'm sure McGonagall will let you know.

See you at Christmas, Rosie!

Fondly,

Your Uncle, Harry Potter.

Rose sat back into her chair, folding up Harry's letter and sticking it into her bag. She grabbed hold of draco Malfoy's letter, in an elegant cursive as opposed to Uncle Harry's chicken scratch. She turned the envelope over a few times in her hands before her curiosity got the better of her - and Rose opened it.

Ms. Weasley,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know it must be rather difficult, dealing with your mother's sudden injury. I hope to assuage some of your worries by giving you an update on your mother's health.

She is doing well, and likely will not face any major or lasting complications with the curse on her arm. As Alex has informed me, you are aware of the origin of her scar. I am not proud to have been present at that time. It is likely that she received the curse when that scar was created, and we will be investigating it further. So far, it appears that the curse is not life threatening, and that is does not pose a threat to your family's safety, either. Or anyone else's safety, for that matter. She will have to follow up with Healer Hannah Davies (whom Alex insists is the best Healer for Dark Curses in the world) with weekly appointments. Beyond that, it appears that the most malignant effects of the curse have been neutralized.

I will continue to send updates as best I can, unless you reply otherwise. Best wishes to you, and I'm sure your mother would say, study hard.

Regards,

Draco Malfoy

Rose shifted in her chair as she tucked the letter away. It was all right - clinical, detached, but sincere. The best she could've asked for from someone like Draco Malfoy. Rose sat up, propping her elbow up on the table and laying her chin in her palm. Tapping her right cheek, she pondered Draco Malfoy and his son, Scorpius. She recalled her conversation with Scorpius and Ara in Charms, about the perfect pureblood mask. Was the sarcastic Scorpius his own, personalized mask? Was he actually that cruel as a person? Or what was underneath it all? Ara didn't seem like the type to hang out with someone really rotten at the core, and well, Scorpius wasn't rotten at all. And then, there was the matter of Draco Malfoy.

Yes, Rose had half of her genes contributed by perhaps the most ignorant Weasley, but she also possessed the genes of Hermione Jean Granger. She did not fail to notice how Mr. Malfoy tried to avoid all contact with her mother, until her mother's safety was involved. It could have been excused as blood purity issues, but that didn't quite fit. He very clearly cared for her mother, but why? Dad had always hated Malfoy (the ferret, Dad had always so fondly called him), up until the very... the very last words he had said to her.

Rose couldn't handle that thought, clutching the sides of her head as the textbook in front of her swam in and out of focus.

Her Daddy. The one who held her on his shoulders, let her mush his face around to make ghastly expressions, the one who had ugly rage fits, but immediately apologized and tucked her hair behind her ear. The one who stuffed her silly with popcorn at the Chudley Cannons games.

Rose wasn't stupid. The funeral was early, to help her find closure sooner and move on.

Bat spleens.

Rose was better. Amelia didn't find her crying in corners anymore. Clara didn't have to withhold comments about the dried tear stains on Rose's pillow. James didn't find her ripping her hair out and screaming "Why?" at thin air anymore.

But had she really recovered? Or was she, like Scorpius, perfecting her own, personalized, mask?

AN: Yay! New chapter! And a relatively quick update! So yes, there was a time jump. Yes, there was a fight (I couldn't wait to pit Slytherins on Gryffindors and bring up that old rivalry, honestly would it be realistic if they were holding hands, sitting around a fire singing campfire songs?) Thanks to all of the reviews, follows/favorites, and everyone in general! I'd like to thank a few users in particular for their reviews: Brenluvshp, ScorpionGurl97, Nette91, A Huge Dramione, Robyn Hawks, AdonnennieZillah, Roni2010, Ofred (nice Handmaid's Tale reference), SiffyEla, Cat Of Flames, MellethDaegyl, Sorceress of Magic, QuantumPhysica, and mingthemusical! Special thanks to Hunnyfied, Souloflead, and Snape'sPaige394, who have helped me brainstorm, laughed with me, pondered with me, etc. Have I shouted out to the the Philippines or Lithuania yet? If not, shout out to your views! Bit of a teaser, for you all.

"Have I never taught you anything boy? No? You may be Draco Malfoy, the redeemed one, the poor child abused by his nasty, prejudiced father. But I am Lucius Malfoy, and I always come back."