Edited, December 2017.
It wasn't the creaking of her bedroom door that woke Rose the next morning. Nor was it the waning February sunshine cast through the high windows.
Rose had been awake since the Head Boy had tapped gently on her door, cooing for the Head Girl's attention, stirring her from an unexpected dreamless sleep. She'd been grateful for the heavy wooden shield between them in that moment. Once he had given up and made his way down to breakfast, she had laid awake beneath the cotton sheets going over the previous night's events again and again. Keeping her eyes shut tight, defended from the rooms almost ethereal glow, she had no idea how long she'd laid there awake.
Even as she heard the springs from the chintz armchair beside her bed - suggesting someone had just sat down upon it - she didn't move.
She was yet to make any definitive choices. Blaming her uncharacteristic indecisiveness on the revelation that passed silently between herself and Scorpius. It weighed heavily on her chest, as guilt often does, seeming to be the surface dilemma that she shouldn't prioritise in her position as Head Girl. Anyone else might have gone straight to the Headmistress, but a part of Rose had been dwelling on the warning Scorpius had given her.
So far in her reign as one half of the Head's unit: she had organised events, garnered great respect from the prefects through punctuality and efficient organisation, maintained her usual level of diligence in class – unwavering it would seem, in the eyes of her professors. She was concerned that after such a solid start, that uncovering and exposing what Scorpius and Albus were up to might destroy any if not all popularity she held with the student body.
Not only this, but the look in Scorpius' eyes as he'd stared down at her lips was nothing short of bewildering. She'd known him almost as long as Albus had, except obviously not shared such a close friendship. With her and Albus spending time together frequently, whether visiting Hagrid or studying together, she had never gotten close to Scorpius due to those three things. Those three things that seemed rather empty in the cold light of day.
She had never thought of him in such a way. As someone who teased her and pestered her, more often than not to get a laugh out of Albus, she had thought it had all been light hearted, or at least she had assumed as much until now. She had never once considered Scorpius Malfoy as any kind of love interest before. Whenever her thoughts had wandered back to him during the morning, she'd seen his enlarged dark green iris eclipsed by his blown-out pupils behind her own eyelids. Each time she saw them the guilt only grew, swamping her mind of coherent thought; heavy, like a dense fog.
It was completely irrational for her to be reacting this way. That much she understood. It was the ambiguity of it all that made her over analyse it. How long had he harboured feelings for her? Had his outburst been out of jealousy or spite? Did Albus, or anyone else for that matter know? All she knew was that she had been going round and round in circles and was grateful when her friend finally spoke from her bedside.
"I know you're not sleeping, Rose. I shared a dormitory with you for six years," came the solemn voice of Jasmine Cattermole.
Rose opened one eye cautiously, initially blinded by the sunlit room, the high windows spilling light across the sapphire furnishings.
"I wasn't trying to be creepy you know. It's just really quite rare that you don't join me in the library on Sunday mornings," her friend continued, adjusting her sitting position on the chair, tucking one of her feet beneath her.
Braving both eyes, Rose hauled herself up on her pillows with great effort and patted the end of her bed, "what time is it?"
"Well you've just missed lunch," said Jasmine, positioning herself politely as far away from Rose's covered feet as possible. Rose's eyes went wide and in a state of panic she grabbed her diary from her bedside table and began tearing through the pages until she landed on the days' date. Realising there was nothing written there apart from her Herbology assignment and a detailed breakdown of the constellation Indus, she let out a sigh of relief. The afternoon would be ample time to finish both of those, while leaving enough time to re-read the forthcoming chapters of her Arithmancy book for Monday first period (which she'd already read several times from cover to cover but it wouldn't hurt to go over it again).
"No one asked after you, don't worry." Jasmine adjusted her sitting position again, pulling her leg beneath her on the bed. "I would have said you were under the weather or working up in here anyway," she shrugged, playing with a fraying thread on Rose's quilt.
"Thanks." Rose stated, staring resolutely at Jasmine's hand as it twirled the thread around her index finger.
The other girl stopped and brought her fidgeting hand into her lap, clasping them together.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" asked Rose, her tone already defensive.
Jasmine's eyes locked onto hers for a moment before an eyebrow raised dubiously. "It's rather out of character for you to miss two meals. Even more so if it's due to a hangover. You aren't hungover, are you?" she continued.
"Not hungover, no. Though that might be preferred right about now," Rose admitted, drawing her palms beneath her eyes in a poor attempt at making herself feel more alert.
Her friend's other eyebrow joined its pair, giving her a similar look to one McGonagall wore when exasperated with a classroom full of first years.
"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I said I'd meet Shannon in the library after lunch to start the constellations homework anyway. As I said, it's just kind of out of character. If you want to talk to me, I'll be in the library," Jasmine finished bluntly. Rose knew the other girl well enough to know this was her way of showing concern. Often through rounded and direct questioning. When Rose was ready to talk, she'd be there to listen. But she wouldn't wait around all day when there were books to read and essays to write if Rose wasn't willing to speak up.
Her friend stood up to leave, "we'll be at the usual table if you want to come work with us." She generously threw Rose a small smile before turning towards the door.
The overwhelming state that Rose was suffering through was enough to make her yell out in panic, "wait!" Jasmine turned silently, manoeuvring the armchair so it thudded against the side of Rose's bed. She came to sit on it and proceeded to lean forward on Rose's bedside table, a dubious look back on her round face.
Jasmine Cattermole was rather striking in appearance, so being stared down by her could feel rather intimidating. Her dark brow left her eyes hooded heavily, matching thick dark lashes that gave her a rather stern look that appeared all the more arresting when paired with shoulder length mousy hair and piercing baby blue eyes. She pulled her hair to one side and rested her chin on her palm, looking at Rose expectantly.
"It's all a bit of a mind fuck if I'm honest with you," blurted Rose, suddenly unable to keep her thoughts to herself. The mental battle waging war in her already busy mind loosening her tongue.
"Mind fuck isn't exactly terminology I'm familiar with. As in," Jasmine corrected herself, "that covers a copious number of potential topics."
"Ok then. Just give me a minute. I'm not sure where to begin," Rose hesitated, not entirely convinced it was the right thing to do; ask Jasmine for help when the severity of the situation should have sent her to McGonagall immediately. Something she'd already told herself countless times that morning. She was skating rather dangerously on the edge of losing her badge if she kept this information to herself if a teacher were to find out she knew about it. Maybe asking someone else how to approach it all might give her an alternative solution, although the prospect seemed rather inconceivable. The involvement of her cousin alone – another variable to add to the already complex mix – was enough to warrant a vested interest in keeping him out of any more trouble.
Jasmine huffed; clearly irritated by Rose's evasiveness.
"When you hear what I found out last night, you'll understand why I'm finding this a little hard to grasp myself, let alone narrate what went on to someone else," she bit out impatiently.
"I assume something happened during patrols?"
"Yes. But not with Elliot." Rose hastened to add, Jasmine usually kept her thoughts to herself on Rose's unusual relationship with Elliot and Rose didn't want another friend (was Scorpius ever her friend?) judging her for it as well. At least not openly.
"If it's making you this indirect it must be something rather serious," said Jasmine shortly, settling back into the chair, crossing her arms.
Rose closed her eyes and took a deep (intended to be calming) breath.
"That, I don't honestly know," admitted Rose, tossing the sheets off her bed and tugging a Weasley jumper over her head, beginning to pace across the room barefoot.
"I think Malfoy might fancy me."
"You say that like you didn't know."
Rose rounded on her friend, who still looked just as composed and not at all shocked by this information.
"You did?" cried Rose incredulously.
Jasmine merely shrugged, "I had a hunch."
"And you never thought to say anything?" asked Rose confused beyond reason and civility. She bristled with anger at Jasmine, realising a little too late that she was indeed right; they'd never once broached such a subject directly. It wasn't Jasmine's fault at all.
"It never came up. Did he make a pass at you or something? Jumped you in a corridor?" Jasmine's eyes now danced with curiosity. Rose chose to ignore her friend's last comment.
"You can't honestly say you didn't notice? Rose, he teases you like two kids in the playground. It's a rather immature method to gain your attention if you ask me. I just thought you were humouring him from time to time."
Rose gaped at her, "are you suggesting I lead him on?"
"Oh no. Now it makes sense that you had no idea and were treating it with entire innocence."
Rose had stopped pacing in favour of sitting back down on her bed in sheer disbelief. She was supposed to be Head Girl; intelligent, observant. Not so obtuse she couldn't even recognise when a guy fancied her.
"If it helps, I don't think Elliot has any idea. Though Albus might," this was all a bit too much for Rose in that moment and she collapsed on the bed, face first in her pillow. In frustration, bunching the pillow around her face she gave a strangled scream into the fabric, drawing it further to her face to muffle the sound. It made her feel better for a moment, cathartic almost from the otherwise crushing emotional turmoil.
"They are best friends after all," said Jasmine, clearly feeling the need to back up her argument. Rose couldn't see why she felt the need to, those boys were so close she would be more surprised if Albus didn't know than if he did.
Rose took in a shuddering and exhausted breath, "you make it sound like I'm exaggerating this."
"If you're taking this news badly, I can't begin to fathom what actually happened."
Jasmine - who it appeared was beginning to make herself at home – took out a notebook from her bag and wand from her sleeve, muttering an incantation, a focused expression pulling all her features together as if she'd tasted something sour. The book transformed into a dainty looking china plate before their eyes.
"Eugh, it was supposed to be patterned with gingham not check," she muttered before delving back into her bag and pulling out two apples. "I assume you're hungry?"
"Actually, I've never wanted food less," said Rose, all the stress having stolen her appetite completely. Jasmine just hummed in response, hovering the apple while making a few severing motions with her wand the apple beginning to gently peal itself.
Rose stood up and began pacing the same stretch of floor, mostly to stop herself using her pillow to deaden another pathetic scream.
"Mmmmh, maybe I shouldn't have said anything about Scorpius," said Jasmine through a mouthful of apple. She motioned to the sliced fruit she'd arranged neatly cut on the plate but Rose shook her head. "It's clearly not helped your state of mind."
"You think?" asked Rose sarcastically.
"Tell me the part that you're clearly all too keen to avoid then. It looks like it's eating you up, pardon the pun, completely unintentional, slipped out."
On a better day, Rose might have been amused by Jasmine's acute awareness of each sentence coming out of her own mouth. Rose usually envied her friend for that exact reason, having been born a Weasley she often struggled to keep from blurting out the first thing that came into her head. An inherited characteristic from her father she wasn't so happy to possess.
The idea that Jasmine might also have known all along about the misadventure Rose had stumbled upon the previous night was about the only thing holding her back. It would show just how little she knew about the inner workings of the castle, however lewd. It would also hurt to hear her friend confess to contributing – albeit, without knowing - to Slytherin's victory through monetary contributions.
"As it turns out, Malfoy and Albus have been renting out broom cupboards to couples. For two years."
"What?"
"I didn't manage to get many more details than that what with being interrupted by Chambers. You know that Gryffindor who plays the violin?" Jasmine nodded mutely, appearing to have forgotten about the slice of apple she'd raised to her mouth.
"He interrupted me interrogating Malfoy in their make shift office down in the dungeons. A mild scuffle ensued, then he left and I didn't manage to get any more info from Scorpius before his little confession distracted me," admitted Rose, the weight easing slightly on her chest as she continued her explanation.
Jasmine continued to gape, her mouth set in a silent 'O'.
"I take it from your expression, you didn't know about this either?" asked Rose, unable to keep the hopeful note out of her voice.
Jasmine shook her head, her eyes growing wide. Dropping the plate unceremoniously onto Rose's bed she scooted to the edge of her seat.
"How? Why? What?" said Jasmine, sounding just as disbelieving as Rose had the previous night.
"I know. I said mind fuck didn't I?"
"Well, as it turns out; you weren't wrong," uttered Jasmine, her voice small and hushed. "You're going to have to elaborate, just a little. This is absolutely mad!"
"This is also why I couldn't get out of bed this morning. I have no idea what to do."
"You have to tell McGonagall."
"I don't think I can. Not yet. Not without hearing Albus' side of the story."
"Why? You're Head Girl! If McGonagall found out, she'd have your badge!" dispelling Jasmine, taking on a panicked look.
"Maybe. I do feel like I should maybe speak to Albus though."
"Again, why? He's always in trouble for something, you don't want his misdeeds dragging you down with him!" Rose bristled a little at this comment. What Albus was doing, apparently wasn't directly hurting anyone. Through it all, he remained her cousin. A part of her knew she had to hear him out. Scorpius was right.
"I can't just turn him in-"
"He's your cousin, blah blah blah." Jasmine waved a hand dismissively. "Can you honestly say it's worth the risk Rose?"
"They've been doing it for years, they've managed to keep it secret for this long," Rose repeated, chancing a cautious glance at her friend, frowning slightly.
Jasmine blustered with indignation, "do not look at me like that, Rose Weasley! I'm trying to look out for your interests here."
As it turned out, telling Jasmine served a purpose. Rose felt infinitely more relaxed sharing the nights events with someone. Somewhere along the line she'd clearly decided how to proceed. Perhaps it had been her subconscious or at some point during the internal battle with herself whether to tell her friend, she had already come to her own conclusion. The difficulty now came in persuading Jasmine not to go to McGonagall of her own volition.
"I believe you. You stayed so you deserved an explanation," answered Rose.
It was Jasmine's turn to bristle. "So, you really must have needed my input then!" The girl sat back in the armchair, finishing the fruit and tossing the plate back onto the table roughly. The sound of china cracking echoed around the room before the plate slipped cleanly in two. Both girls stared at it silently.
Jasmine moved first, realising her mistake she shook her head, tapping the plate with her wand. It fixing back together seamlessly.
"You're telling me they've been doing this for years and them keeping it from you isn't enough to make you go straight to McGonagall?" Jasmine asked, looking at Rose sceptically.
She thought about this for a moment, "Any sort of deception has consequences."
Jasmine laughed derisively, "I'm glad you can at least admit that's what they were doing. Deceit. Deception. All the 'D's." The girl seemed to miss the unfortunate phrasing in her last statement. To Rose, it did not go unnoticed.
"Of course, I'm upset about it all. Although it certainly feels better to tell you. And to be honest, I'm kind of glad you didn't know about it either."
"Thanks. I'm glad, as your friend, I am just as misinformed as you are. It must show how unamorous my life is," Jasmine stated bitterly before taking a wolfish bite out of the second apple. She held it out to Rose who this time nodded. Jasmine tossed it to Rose, who caught it clumsily before taking a bite herself.
Food tasted good. Regrettably, her stomach gave a growl, revealing just how hungry she was underneath the easing blanket of anxiety.
"I didn't think you'd care this much," said Rose, guardedly. The other girl seemed to crumple into herself where she sat.
"Ordinarily I wouldn't. But to hear what sort of antics are perpetually going on under our noses hits a little harder than I'd hoped. How have they avoided detection this long?" Jasmine asked.
"They've been using -"
"The map, yes. I should have worked that one out from the start."
Rose smiled a little, "thanks."
"For?"
"For being the usual voice of reason. My sensible adviser," the smile Rose gave her friend seemed to warm her from the inside.
"What would you do without me?"
"I wouldn't be Head Girl, for certain." Jasmine barked out a laugh.
"Don't be ridiculous. Academic merit, a populist. You were always a star candidate. Anyway, we've had that conversation before. Right now we've got loads of work to do. Also," Jasmine shifted uncomfortably in her seat again, glancing around the room, it appeared in need of confidence with what she was about to say next. "I'm not as … lame as people believe. Even I give in to peer pressure at pre-planned occasions." Jasmine displaying a rare shred of what would be considered normal teenage self-consciousness was enough to allow Rose's grin to widen.
"You're a real Jekyll and Hyde when the fire whiskey comes out. I've seen it," Rose felt a laugh bubbling in her throat, it came out strangled but then took over so she was bent over laughing. It felt good to laugh.
"You're lucky I read muggle fiction and understand that reference," said Jasmine gather her things together earnestly. When Rose's laughter had subsided, both girls drew towards one another in the centre of the room.
"Sorry I snapped a little as well, just … you will speak to Albus?"
"I'll probably have to catch him after orchestra tonight. But yes, rest assured I will speak to him. Now I've told you, I've got no one else to confide in. Otherwise I'm just sat on this secret that will do nothing for my concentration."
"Good," said Jasmine nodding. She lent out and squeezed Rose's shoulder affectionately, her mouth tugging up into a half smile.
"I'm going to head to the library. I assume you'll want to shower and get dressed," Jasmine gestured to the pyjama bottoms Rose was sporting that were covered in variously coloured pygmy puffs.
Rose put her hands in the pockets of them, moving her knees from side to side, "perhaps it could be my new library look. Restricted section chic." Jasmine just shook her head, not humoured by Rose's brighter mood.
"I could even get a matching pair for Madame Pince!" shouted Rose, as Jasmine left, closing her bedroom door behind her.
Jasmine, Shannon and herself had completed the Herbology assignment that afternoon with minimal upset (unless you count some third years letting loose a Fanged Frisbee in the Goblin Rebellion section). It had been quite easy once she got her head down, to focus on work at hand; a welcome and familiar distraction. She enjoyed reading the literature on mandrakes and formulating a cohesive argument on their preferred climate. Upon completion of their essays, the girls rapidly dissolved into a hushed, yet heated discussion on their plans post-Hogwarts.
Jasmine was the only member of their group already planning ahead for the Healer training course she had recently been accepted into. Shannon however shared Rose's indecision, to a point where she had considered writing potential careers onto a sheet of parchment and pointing to one at random. Jasmine and Rose had chided her for such a risky idea, given she could end up in a career working with mountain trolls if she wasn't careful.
The Indus constellation work laid untouched but not forgotten at the bottom of Rose's bag as the girls made their way to dinner. The usual clamour of the Great Hall seemed muted, as Sunday evenings often were. Some of the older students looked exhausted from a combination of essay writing and late night antics from the outset of the weekend. Younger students hugged mugs of cocoa, their eyes still bright somehow beneath the indigo sky of the enchanted ceiling.
Rose hastened to the closest side of the Ravenclaw table so she wouldn't have to face the Slytherins. She wanted to eat her dinner in peace without fear of locking eyes with bespectacled ones.
Her and the girls chatted animatedly through dinner and dessert (Rose enjoyed two portions of apple crumble before succumbing to a mild comatose state) until they were almost the last souls seated in the hall.
"I think I'm going to have to head back to the library," said Shannon wearily, getting up from the bench. "Why I took astronomy at N.E.W.T. level, I'll never know." As Shannon riffled through her bag, Rose took the opportunity to eye up the marble staircase as potential way of escape. Her day had felt completely ordinary, momentary bliss compared to the onslaught that no doubt awaited. Jasmine must have seen her falter as she raised a dark, judgemental eyebrow.
"Didn't you say you wanted to speak to Albus?" she asked, the disparaging note in her voice quite obvious. Shannon who was still searching her bag didn't seem to notice. Rose lowered her eyes, finding Jasmine's look unsettling.
"Rose?"
Scrunching her face up in anguish, Rose nodded. "Yep. Off I go." Jasmine nodded, still watching her. "Thanks for reminding me," said Rose through gritted teeth. She edged out of the hall, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder to see Jasmine emptying Shannon's bag across the Ravenclaw bench to find whatever was holding them up.
Rose approached the orchestra room with unbridled misgivings. She paused outside in the corridor as brass instruments continued their fanfare. She tried to pick out Albus in the melody. Not having a distinguished ear for classical music she struggled as more scores joined in the final crescendo.
The ringing notes drawn out reverberated through Rose's ribcage, loud enough even outside the music room to cause her throat to tighten in anticipation. Like the end of all good musical pieces; it left her feeling almost hollow as the note faded out, resonating a feeling of longing for another to fill the delicate emptiness left behind.
There was an instantaneous uproar, a scuffle of feet and leaves of parchment built from behind the door. Scraping of chairs and instrument case fastenings opening and closing followed the swell of noise. The door burst open, spilling students out along with a harried looking Professor Willowsworth.
"I needn't remind you that just because this is an extracurricular activity that your presentation should not suffer. Poole, that means stop wearing your robes as a toga immediately!" The professor spotted Rose hovering by the door and tilted her head back into the room. "He's hanging back with some of the other Slytherin boys, Miss Weasley. I assume it's Potter you're here to se - POOLE! Nor does that mean you should wear them as a turban!" The professor's attention diverted back to the grinning boy who pelted off down the corridor after his friends, clutching his flute case to his chest. Willowsworth followed hawk-like after the retreating boys, leaving the corridor quiet again accept for the murmurings coming from the classroom.
Rose turned to lean on the door frame, hoisting her book bag back onto her shoulder. She almost collided with something, or someone very solid. Patrick Chambers rove his eyes over her once before grinning.
"Maybe I can see what Rhodes and Malfoy like so much," his grin slipping effortlessly into a sneer. In a spark of white hot anger she took a step back, her hand up her sleeve around her wand.
"You need to learn that you can't speak to me, or any women for that matter in such a way, Chambers," Rose whispered in a hope it wouldn't travel to the classroom beyond. An utterly absorbing hatred was coursing through her. Fucking misogynist – the only thought fuelling her simmering rage. He had the audacity to lunge forward then as if to grab hold of her before stepping to one side and walking past her chuckling darkly.
Her skin pimpled in gooseflesh, she shook her head as if it could wipe the horrid look on Chambers face from her memory. Riled up from bumping into Chambers made her instinctively feel the need to hasten up to her common room to bed but the sound of Albus' discernible laughter seemed to awaken something in her suddenly. It was people like Chambers why Albus and Scorpius' business venture wasn't a good idea. People like him made it unsafe and that alone was a good enough reason to convince them to quit while they were ahead.
When she stepped over the threshold she saw Albus sat at a desk facing the back wall with a drum stick in each hand. Three other boys of various ages still sat casually in their chairs in the half crescent arrangement of orchestra seating.
"Potter, if you're going to play drums then don't you want there to be some actual drumming in it?"
"Well yeah, but I'm still learning. Some muggle stuff – you know the record we put on in the common room the other night – blood runs thicker, oh we're thick as thieves y'know," Albus drummed enthusiastically; a crude beat on the edge of the desk as he whacked and tapped.
Rose looked on silently, feeling a smirk blossom on her face.
"The Libertines one?" asked one of the boys.
"Yes! That's the one. Appropriate for us as a band, don't you think?"
"Appropriate for you and Scorp's bromance, more like!" Laughed the bulkiest looking of the group. The others guffawed along with him as Albus threw a score book at the other boy's chest. He slapped it away and it fell to the floor with a loud smack. As the boy lent to pick it up still tittering to himself he spotted Rose stood by the door.
She suddenly wished she'd made herself known rather than appearing like she was eavesdropping. She adjusted the badge on her own chest without even realising as she took another step further into the room. Albus spun round, following the other boy's gaze, his eyes darting to the badge as she moved her hand jerkily away. He frowned.
Merlin this is not going to be easy.
The bulkiest boy seemed to pick up on Albus' instantaneous change of mood and motioned for the other boys to follow him.
"We'll catch you later Al. Think you need to practice on a proper kit though mate, it's the only way you'll get the right rhythm." He held out a fist that Albus' bumped without taking his eyes off hers. The boys filed out. Albus glanced at the door, his frown unmoving. She took the hint turning to close it, taking as much time as would be deemed acceptable. Anything to avoid Albus when he was looking at her like that.
When she faced him, he'd perched himself on a desk, feet on a chair, hands splayed back on the desk behind him. He would have looked at ease if it weren't for the morose expression he was wearing.
For a moment, neither cousin spoke.
Rose was reminded with a uncomfortable jolt of how Scorpius had stared at her. Guilt crept its way into her veins as she looked on at his best friend, aware that she probably cared about Scorpius' confession more than she should. You aren't even friends. Part of her confusion probably spun from her own question of why did she even care so much?
It would be naïve of her to assume that Albus hadn't spoken to Scorpius, based on how tense he looked, although trying to appear casual. Rose doubted whether she was less keen to talk about it than he was.
Rose had gone over numerous scenarios as to how this conversation was about to go. All of them ending in one of the other storming off. The possibility of an all but inevitable blow out was enough to keep her quiet.
"First things first, are you here to tell me you're dobbing us in?" Albus started, addressing Rose with zero trepidation. "Or, did you come with some intention – however minute – of hearing me out?"
Rose didn't speak. The churning in her stomach multiplying tenfold. She was already frustrated with herself for being so indecisive about the situation she had been put in, Albus acting his usual easy-going self didn't help. He would know full well she wouldn't be here if she'd decided to go to McGonagall. She wouldn't have braved facing him for days until it would have all blow over. But she knew him well enough too; he was laying out the options so obviously that he couldn't be backed into a corner.
She let out a sigh. The mental fight was enough to make her weak-willed when faced with her chancer of a cousin.
"I'll hear you out."
Albus deigned a look of surprise, "really?"
"Scorpius asked me to." Albus' face transformed into a confused one.
"And you're doing as he asked?"
"Don't sound so surprised." She sighed, exasperated. She dragged out a chair and sat down. It was astounding how all the anxiety came flooding back when finally facing Albus. She should know by now that it never went the way she planned in her head.
"Not sure you've ever listened to a word he's said before."
"I have!" She said defensively.
Albus smirked as if all knowing, "Go on then. Try to talk me out of it." He said good naturedly. Getting up from his perch, he crossed the room briskly and tugging out his own chair only a desk away.
"Firstly," said Rose, determined to not let Albus try to charm his way out of the situation, "Scorpius didn't explain very well, you're going to have to elaborate some details. You couldn't possibly be able to tell people if there was a Professor close by for a start."
Albus smirk only grew, "of course we could Rosie."
"Don't patronise me Al, I've come here to give you a chance, don't make me regret this."
He held up his hands in his defence, "I only said it like that because you'll kick yourself you even had to ask me that question." She looked on blankly, her mind unable to catch up to where Albus was, all too proudly.
"Coins, like your mum used. Scorp's idea," he added, shooting her a meaningful look.
"He read the newest-"
"Hogwarts a History – Twentieth Century Edition, yeah. Might have procured your copy actually a few summers ago."
Rose huffed childishly, unsurprised that this might have been the case. She was slightly surprised however by the idea that Scorpius voluntarily read the newest edition of Hogwarts a History that comprised a whole section of her parents and uncle's misadventures in the castle. You don't really know him at all, do you?
"We take it in turns to patrol. With the cloak of course. Warning patrons where we can. People still get caught from time to time." All of this seemed to roll off Albus' tongue like a manifesto. "We refund those particular individuals, it wouldn't be the great service it is if we kept their money. Might seem like we were doing it on purpose, and we certainly don't want that."
Rose's skin began to crawl. She felt uncomfortable with how easy Albus made it all sound. She'd been living in ignorance for so long, the truth seemed much smuttier when spoken about so freely.
"Are you trying to sell this to me?" she asked incredulously. "It sounds like a bloody business pitch. Something you've practiced!"
"Well we had to set the ground rules early," said Albus casually, gazing off into the distance like Scorpius had the night before.
"That's another thing," Rose began, Albus smiled cordially again. That smile was beginning to get on her nerves. "How are you stopping people being reckless? Abusing the rooms with younger students for instance."
"Scorp said you asked him that."
"It's a valid question." Rose ground out in an effort to keep her voice from rising.
Albus looked at her silently for a moment. His smile faultered.
"We don't." Rose's stomach lurched at this admission. "We can't. Not all the time."
Rose opened her mouth to argue but Albus raised a hand and she fell silent. The conviction on his face now mirroring his tone, "Realistically Rose, anyone can be in a broom cupboard with anyone. We provide this service so people feel a heightened sense of privacy. Whether we were doing this or not, people would be using broom cupboards for whatever they wanted anyway. You know that."
"You've never seen anything on the map?"
"No. Not if you're referring to those in younger years."
Al's eyes heavy on her made her feel sick. She clutched her hands around her body beneath her robes.
She hadn't considered what Albus had said. That people would fool around however they could. She was grateful Albus hadn't brought up the privacy of her own dorm. She knew she couldn't talk her way out of this. And this realisation didn't sit well with Rose. Feeling out-played was not a familiar situation to her. Pursing her lips, the frown she hadn't noticed only deepened. Being beaten by a solid, rational argument was almost enough to make her want to rip off her badge and throw it at Albus' contented form.
Her deepest insecurity in all of this began to grow like a fungus inside her as they sat there in silence. Albus waiting for her fight that wouldn't come. The fungus spread grotesquely in her mind, feeding off her jealousy as she recalled flashes of Albus and Scorpius joking together over the summer, embracing from Christmases apart, huddled together at a table in the back of a classroom. With each vision it stabbed at her heart.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She croaked out shakily, already knowing the answer; in need to hear it confirmed herself.
She watched her cousin fidget awkwardly under her stare. She wanted him to feel hard done by. It wasn't fair she was the only one to feel this way.
"You made your choice," he rasped, as if trying to hold in the words as they scraped to get out of his throat. "It was obvious you wanted to be Head Girl, because of that I couldn't tell you."
As it turned out, the truth was even more difficult to swallow than she'd imagined. The tears fell freely and silently onto her jumper.
"You mean you couldn't trust me?" she tasted salt as she spoke but didn't even attempt to wipe her eyes. "There is some bull shit in there Al. Scorpius said you'd been doing this for two years!"
"I honestly thought someone would have told you by now. Or you would have found out from someone else."
He made no effort to comfort her. Normally indifferent to tears, Albus continued as if they were just having a conversation over a cup of tea.
"We were never going to run in the same friendship circles at school, Rose. That was pretty obvious to begin with."
"But you didn't trust me with this!" Her voice shrill and sharp in her ears.
"How could I?" asked Albus, getting off the desk, beginning to collect his belongings together. "You chose academia, the straight and narrow-"
"You mean the goody-two-shoes? I'm your cousin Albus! How could you not share this with me?"
"I was doing it with Scorpius for a start, and I knew you wouldn't like that."
"Don't bring him up, I don't think my heart can take any more."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Albus, his tone lingering on the side of threatening.
She considered for the briefest of moments not saying anything. But she wasn't thinking clearly. It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
"Does Scorpius fancy me?"
"Why on earth would you ask me that?"
"We argued about Elliot…"
Albus looked utterly outraged, "Where the hell is this coming from?"
"I asked you if Scorpius fancies me. How he was acting might have suggested it," she admitted, "You owe me a shred of truth."
"Why would you even care? You don't like him."
They sat there watching one another silently again. Rose tried to mull over Albus' statement without letting it show on her face.
Was she being ridiculous? There was something odd about the whole situation. For some bizarre reason, she cared more about Scorpius maybe fancying her than she did about getting Elliot into bed. How did that make any sense? There was no wonder Albus was up in arms about it all. She hadn't really given Scorpius the time of day during their time at Hogwarts. Safe in the knowledge Albus had a good and loyal friend in him, the only times they really hung out amicably was at the Burrow over the past four summers. Even then, Rose had often snubbed him after his childish teasing began to get wearing.
"He was never supposed to actually fucking tell you."
Rose didn't even think she saw Albus' mouth move. A dangerously low note to his voice, she almost winced.
"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"
Albus tore his eyes away from her, shoving his belongings into his bag aggressively. Rose tried in vain to grab his wrist; he pulled away before she even got close.
"Albus!" she all but cried, pleading with him. He had his hand on the door before he turned around.
"I said," he looked wholly vexed, "he was never supposed to tell you. You don't like him, Rose. Don't even try to convince me you do."
She was speechless. She just watched as he wrenched open the door, frozen in shock at his attitude.
"About our broom cupboard arrangement; you can't close us down. You think the founders would be proud of you abusing your Head dorm?"
"Albus, hold on a second –"
"No, Rose. They wouldn't have been."
"You can't possibly be turning this on me! Scorpius tried to pull the same thing!" she cried again, incredulously. She took a stride towards him through the desks, in an attempt to make him stay put in the room. Albus paused for a moment, Rose taking full advantage of his fraction of weakness. In frustration, not for the first time that evening, she blurted out the first thing that came into her mind.
"What do you think we might do? Run off into the sunset? Leave you behind like you've left me countless times?" She was sounding hysterical, clutching at straws and making up unrealistic stories.
Albus looked at her then, pityingly. It crushed her heart effortlessly in one look.
"He was never supposed to tell you. Let it go, Rose. I'll see you around." He said quietly.
And then he was gone.
She stared at the corridor beyond the music room for a few moments before sobs wracked her body completely. Sitting at a desk, she looked blearily out of the window in the corridor beyond only seeing blackness.
Rose couldn't quite believe just how badly that conversation had gone. How Albus had reacted when she had brought up Scorpius in such a way. Her and Albus had never gotten on as well as people might have expected, but he certainly didn't behave like that towards her.
Trying to steady her breathing she wiped at her eyes with her robes. A poor attempt to compose herself. Heading up to the common room she collapsed on her bed, ignoring the guilty feeling at the back of her mind that she should be in the library.
The worst thing of it all was that Albus was right about one thing. This realisation was a painful one. Their broom cupboard enterprise wasn't really anything students wouldn't be doing themselves without it. The only real rules they were breaking was taking money from other students, although even then this happened on a daily basis for various things in the castle already- bets, gobstones, bribes for homework – they all just feigned ignorance because it wasn't physically hurting anyone. Now she felt uncomfortable going to McGonagall. She was a complete hypocrite if she did, and now she knew it.
What she didn't understand was Albus' outrage over this whole Scorpius situation. That wasn't really a situation at all. The only people it should really concern should be her and Scorpius, and even then, she still didn't know how she really felt about it.
That evening in her bedroom, she didn't have time to dwell on it, the exhaustion of the last day having took its toll. She dressed for bed quickly and got underneath the covers. She didn't feel like seeing the girls either. Jasmine would only be frustrated with the fact that Albus had upset her and Rose had no energy left to argue.
It didn't take long for her to fall asleep that night. A welcome contrast to the previous night, completely worn out, she slept soundly. All worries and problems would be there come morning, whether she would avoid them or conquer them would be determined then. One thing was for sure, it was Monday morning and she was Head Girl. That meant a confident front and perfect composure entering the week ahead. Whether she felt that way on the inside or not.
Here is another chapter care of the British Bank Holiday Monday. We have far too many of them, but it's a good excuse to write.
I hope you enjoy. All feedback whether Outstanding, Acceptable or Troll are welcome.