Wow. What a hiatus it's been(?) Author's note at the end.
Disclaimer: JKR owns.
They had all agreed it would be best to keep an eye on Patrick Chambers the following week.
Rose had insisted that Scorpius or herself accompany Albus to orchestra, but he refused. Albus believed that it might be more obvious if the two of them began showing a sudden interest in classical music, preferring to ride the after-school activity out alone. The two boys reconvened with Rose to inform her of anything that might be important the next day. It turned out to be very little of interest.
Albus told her with minimal enthusiasm that Chambers had been his usual self. Aggressive, smarmy and nothing out of the ordinary. Even with their slowly rekindling friendship, Rose thought Albus still didn't sound entirely convinced.
"I can keep an eye on him in double potions, if he's concussed or something, it might be easier to tell when he's doing something more practical," she suggested.
"You're saying he's competent at potions, generally?" asked Albus incredulously, as she walked with the two of them by the lake during lunchtime.
"He's more than competent," she replied hotly. Her top spot in that class was contested by that oaf every time she let her guard down. "I'll know if there is something wrong."
"There's something psychologically wrong in his head already," muttered Scorpius. "I swear, if I hear him call you queer-" he shook his head, cracking his knuckles menacingly staring down at the black water.
"You won't do anything. That's not how we deal with that kind of thing," Albus shot Scorpius a knowing look as Rose looked on. "We have to keep a low profile. For a while at least." Albus said, watching Scorpius' hands with interest as they popped as each digit was pulled apart. "I appreciate the support, though."
"I support your gayness, yes." Scorpius said, kicking a pebble into the water. Rose looked at him in disbelief, his tactless phrasing taking her by surprise.
"Don't call it that," Albus said, suddenly stern. "It's not like I have a choice. I like blokes, ok. I thought you guys were being supportive."
"We are, but you're going to have to tell me why I can't use the term 'gayness'-"
"You just can't, Scorp. Can you drop it?" Albus asked, clearly frustrated by his friend's flippant attitude.
Scorpius began cleaning his glasses on his robe sleeve, "not really no, mate. I have many questions-"
"Seriously?" Albus asked. He looked about ready to push his friend rather violently into the lake behind them.
The blond boy raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "what do you see in Lorcan? Do I have to give him the big brother chat?"
Albus looked appalled, "no! Don't go there."
"I'm serious."
"Stop fucking around, mate. I'm just finding my feet as it is."
Scorpius shrugged, "would you not rather it come from me? Jimmy is my alternate, after all."
Albus' face contorted in trepidation, his mind conjuring scenarios neither Rose nor Scorpius could see. "I guess you kind of have a point. But don't be jumping to those sort of conclusions, it might end up being a one-time thing," Albus trailed off giving Scorpius a sidelong look. Although, Scorpius didn't see this. He was looking at Rose who hadn't been able to help a burst of giggles at the bizarre thought of James Potter having a sit-down conversation over tea about Albus' relationship status or sexuality. James Potter didn't take anything out of the ordinary very well; hence his initial mistreatment of his younger brother being sorted into the House of Serpents.
Albus rounded on her. "It's not funny!"
"I'm laughing at him, not you!" she said indignantly, indicating Scorpius whose eyes had been sparkling behind his glasses at her. Her cheeks were pink from the sharp March wind, gratefully hiding her blush at being caught out again.
"What's going on with you two?" Albus demanded.
Rose felt Scorpius' eyes on the side of her head, it gave her enough of a push to speak with confidence and intent, "we're arranged to go on a date… nothing untoward."
"Eugh!" said Albus trudging up the path back to the castle, "you guys are disgusting. Repeating phrases the other has said."
Rose didn't need this bringing to her attention, her cheeks were already flooded with rouge. She was hot under the collar from Scorpius' closeness as they followed a few paces behind Albus, his hand swinging tangibly close to hers as they walked. It would barely take anything to curl her fingers between his. She resisted when Albus shot them another impatient look from several yards in front.
"I think he's taking this rather well," Scorpius murmured into her ear. She smiled dubiously up at him.
"Are you sure about that?" Rose asked, as she heard Albus grunt a little as he sped up.
Scorpius pursed his lips, "I'm not saying it's easy to come out to your friends and family." He said this in an undertone so only Rose could hear, "Hell, I've never had to do it. It's really not a big deal though. To us I mean," said Scorpius hastily at Rose's wary expression, "Gay or straight or into vampires, whatever. He's still my best mate."
She wondered how much she could pry before it might become obvious, "He knows that right? That you're ok with everything?"
"Yeah. When he told me I was shocked of course, but it made a lot of sense in hindsight."
Rose was puzzled. Was Scorpius inferring that he had known about Albus having an attraction to him, or that he was gay? They might sound one and the same to an outsider; in reality they weren't anything of the sort.
She dithered, plunging her hands into her pockets to stop her fiddling with the hem of her jumper. She didn't want to consider the possibility that Albus hadn't told Scorpius, his best friend, the full extent of his feelings. Yet, she was about ready to believe anything.
"What exactly did Albus tell you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, as she kept one eye on her cousin's hunched back as he neared the oak front doors.
"That he was gay. Had known for a while. Why? Did he say something to you about Lorcan?" Scorpius asked, looking concerned.
"No. Not at all," Rose croaked before gulping down all words that weren't hers to tell.
She sped up slightly, trying in vain to catch up with Albus' fast pace. Luckily, he stopped and leaned, brooding on the doorway entrance to examine his nails as she shuffled beside him. She pushed aside thoughts of Scorpius' hypothetical wandering hands in favour of attempting to fix Albus with a questioning stare before jerking her head in Scorpius' direction.
Albus looked up at her as she did this and had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed, averting his eyes towards the ceiling but she didn't get a chance to say anything. Approaching closer to her cousin, she felt a gentle tap on her elbow.
She turned to see a tiny Hufflepuff student, who must have been barely five feet tall.
As Scorpius approached their group she heard him ask Albus in not such a hushed tone if they'd ever been that small, to which Rose scowled over her shoulder at them as the small girl gave a squeak. Rose could empathise with the youngster. Once upon a time it felt rather intimidating addressing older students, especially when you were still finding your feet.
Rose smiled genuinely down at her as the girl held out a scroll of parchment wordlessly.
"Thank you. What's your name?"
The girl positively quivered.
"It's ok, we don't bite or anything," Rose joked good naturedly.
"Unless it's the full moon," interjected Albus, having appeared to have gained back some of his bravado at the manifestation of the little first year. Rose shot him another furious look to which he responded with a smirk before baring his teeth wolfishly.
"A-a-Abigail, Miss Head Girl," Rose looked down at the badge on her chest dispassionately before returning her attention back to the younger girl.
"There is honestly no need to sound scared!" Rose then knelt down to the girl's eye level, "who is the note from?"
"The Headmistress," she replied.
She saw Albus and Scorpius turn to each other in her periphery and she tried not to take heed of it. And yet she still felt her throat constrict slightly.
Don't jump to conclusions.
"Oh well in that case, you've done an excellent job!" She said, surprising herself that she only came across sounding kind rather than patronising. The feigned praise seemed to uplift the girl somewhat. "I wouldn't look so worried, you'll be where we are before you know it."
The girl's eyes flitted between her and the boys stood in the doorway, "I-it's not that. McGonagall scares the pants off me," Abigail gushed, her eyes wide like saucers.
"She still scares the pants off me," Scorpius said from behind her. Rose tried her hardest to hide her amused smile along with an all too familiar roll of her eyes. Scorpius' sense of humour seemed to slowly be cracking her previously impervious armour.
Her expression thankfully went unnoticed by Abigail who it appeared had been distracted by the newcomer in the conversation.
Rose sighed, "you get used to her. She's definitely softer than she appears initially. Thank you again for the note Abigail." Rose stood up, brushing lint of the knees of her tights.
"You're welcome," the girl dithered and for one awful, uncomfortable moment Rose thought she might curtsy. Then she ran off into the hall her pigtails flying behind her.
Feeling the boy's gaze on her with the absence of a distracting first year, Rose unfurled the letter as confidently as she could, taking care to put her body in the way of their potential wandering eyes.
Miss Weasley,
Please come to my office at lunch, or your earliest convenience.
Headmistress McGonagall
She stared down at the paper for a few moments. Letting the words settle. If it was something serious the older woman would have been more forthcoming she thought, trying to be rational. For she was more concerned about this new-found enlightenment of Albus' ability to lie than what the Headmistress could possibly want with her. His sheer length of deception towards his best friend certainly irked her more than it should.
She now felt trapped between the two of them. Her new, untested feelings for Scorpius a potential timebomb.
Merlin, she was beginning to hate secrets.
"Rose?" she heard Albus ask, sounding slightly agitated.
She rolled the note back up and stored it in her robe pocket. Pushing out a frustrated breath, drawing the hair away from her face before she faced the two of them.
"It's just a note from McGonagall. Nothing to worry about."
They exchanged a look, and this time Rose didn't hide the roll of her eyes.
"Are you sure, Rose?" Scorpius queried, looking apprehensively at the pocket she had hidden the scroll in.
She looked fixedly at Albus, as she addressed Scorpius. Her gaze bearing all disappointment, her frown all her frustration. "I'm sure. You guys shouldn't miss lunch." With that, she turned on her heel towards the marble staircase.
"Rose!"
She carried on walking. Her heart hammering suddenly at the sound of his voice.
"Rose!" she wheeled round, Scorpius raising an eyebrow at her annoyed expression.
"What, Scorpius?"
"I-," he looked up at her from the bottom step, in that instance she had no idea what to say to him. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know what was going on in her head just then. The internal war of relieving the truth upon him or holding her tongue. The latter, unfortunately for her, was her honest and familial instinct. As far as he was concerned, she was pissed off at being summoned to McGonagall, the extreme potential of the circumstance culminating in the removal of her head badge.
Scorpius levelled himself on the step, his polished shoes reflecting the sunlight. They glinted smartly. She glanced down at them, distracted. Anything to avoid his gaze. She didn't want to look at him just then. She felt like an accessory to Albus' falsehood, it would be overwhelmingly apparent if she caught his eye. He'd know.
"Sorry." Her head dropped further, "I have no idea what the note is about," she pushed her hair over her shoulder chancing a glance at him. "I'd just rather get it over with." Her eyes found a spot on his cashmere jumper. He didn't speak but she saw him nod. Her face fractured into a smile before she turned and continued climbing the stairs.
Rose somehow made it to the stone gargoyle without bumping into anyone she knew. Her mind was wildly conjuring up all the other possible things McGonagall might wish to speak to her about that didn't involve either her cousin or his best friend.
There was a pause before the Headmistress called through the door.
She pushed the door open gingerly, coming to stand next to the closest high-backed chair. The older woman was sat behind her desk, scratching at a piece of abused looking parchment with an elegant amber quill. Her glasses perched so close to the end of her nose they were threatening to drop off.
"Good afternoon, Professor."
McGonagall glanced up above her spectacles, her expression softening upon seeing the younger woman. "Good afternoon, Miss Weasley. Please take a seat."
Although initially calmed by the look McGonagall gave her, Rose couldn't help but gnaw at her bottom lip nervously. She felt like she might say something incriminating if she opened her mouth. She'd been blurting things out far too much in the past few days.
McGonagall's regard of her turned impatient as she shuffled the parchment on her desk, stuffing it unceremoniously into a draw in the desk. She tapped it with her wand and Rose heard it close with a loud crack.
"My dear girl, have a cup of tea."
A teapot materialised between them on the now clutter-free desk with a small plate of ginger biscuits. After two cups of steaming tea had been poured by the hovering pot, she pushed her glasses up her nose finally; surveying Rose with a look that reminded her of a cat about to devour some small mammalian prey.
"You don't seem like yourself, Miss Weasley." McGonagall spoke softly, taking a sip of tea. Rose felt the knot of trepidation tighten in her stomach.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Professor."
"I've noticed recently in my class and Professor Vector informs me of much the same. You seem – for loss of a better word – distracted."
The past weeks events flashed behind her eyelids and Rose struggled to keep her face the picture of composure. She clutched at the first defence she could think of, "my grades are still-"
"Exemplary, yes." The flush of gratitude she would normally have felt was dowsed with the suffocating insecurity of the unknown. Why she had been summoned here, she was still completely unsure of.
Professor McGonagall took a biscuit from the plate and examined it. She sighed, turning it over in her wrinkled fingers, "as much as I take the education of the students at this school very seriously. I've learnt over many years that we must also consider their well-being and mental stability as well."
Rose, momentarily distracted by McGonagall questioning her own "mental stability", forgot all about her issues with the two Slytherin boys in her life. Instead, her mind was reeling over how obvious it had been that her mind hadn't been focused on her studies. Whether her grades remained steadfast or not.
"Therefore, my main concern is how you have been conducting yourself. Almost as if in a trance. I called you here as council, not as interrogation dear girl, so would you please stop worrying your for-heaven's sake."
Rose pursed her lips together immediately, clamping her teeth. Rose knew she felt more discontent than she should in the circumstances. She began fiddling with her hands in her lap instead, trying to think of something polite to say.
"I'm not sure I need council Professor, with all due respect."
Professor McGonagall seemed to ignore this comment and lifted the plate of biscuits to Rose, "have a ginger nut, Miss Weasley. I remain concerned."
Rose swallowed half her biscuit loudly.
"Because you are one of the very few seventh years whose future, post-Hogwarts isn't known to myself or the staff." Rose felt her heart throb painfully. "I have not yet received a request for a reference nor have I heard anything from your parents of what you may have chosen to pursue in the future."
"My parents?" asked Rose, her voice wavering a little.
"It isn't a secret that we frequent each other's company at least once a month. The Order had much to celebrate once upon a time." The older woman's eyes glazed over for a moment.
"The Order meetings? Yes, my mother had mentioned them."
A small scoff sounded, and for a moment Rose wondered if it had been McGonagall herself who had made the noise. Then, however a voice spoke from the wall behind the Headmistress.
"Of course you'd let a Weasley talk to you like that Minerva." The image of Severus Snape drawled from his painting, leaning on the gilded frame.
McGonagall ignored the portrait of Snape, a look of mild contempt passing over her brow, "but you knew I attended these meetings, Rose?"
Albus Dumbledore's painting chimed in causing McGonagall to turn sharply in her chair, "Miss Weasley…for such a bright girl you don't use your imagination, do you?" asked Dumbledore, his twinkling eyes matching his starry robes of purple and gold.
Rose's teeth were stuck together with crystalline ginger so she had no way of replying to Dumbledore, nor defending herself to Snape.
Professor McGonagall's head tilted to one side, her eyes closed impatiently, "Albus, I asked you in confidence for advice, not your input when my student is present!"
Dumbledore's portrait blinked before smiling warmly down at Rose, "sorry, Minerva. As you wish."
Rose watched Snape stride haughtily into Dumbledore's painting and whisper something into his ear. Both looked back at Rose sat opposite them. She felt like she was being scrutinised by the two men in the painting and hastily looked away. It always made Rose feel uneasy being surveyed by living portraits; the fact that the paintings themselves often seemed to be as smart and perceptive as their once flesh counterparts enough to make her feel uncomfortable in her own skin.
"My apologies for that interruption, Miss Weasley. As you may have gathered, by my observation you do not seem to have settled on a career choice. Is that correct?"
"I've never really been sure, Professor," she confessed. McGonagall's eyes widened as Rose continued, "I've always wanted to do well and learn. I never had a desire to follow one thing in particular though." Rose fidgeted in her seat again, picking at the sleeves of her robes feeling very self-conscious at this rather unambitious admission.
"Would you not consider one particular subject a favourite?"
Rose cast a furtive look at the portraits still watching her, "perhaps History of Magic?"
The side of McGonagall's mouth twitched, "for the life of me, I can never understand why people can't admit their love for that particular subject. I've worked with Professor Binns for almost forty years. The man has seen more history than in most of your books."
Rose didn't resist the small smile that formed at McGonagall's subtle derision at Professor Binns.
"Have you ever considered teaching?"
Caught by surprised at the Professor's question, Rose took a moment to consider it.
"No Professor. I can't say that I have," she replied.
McGonagall pursed her lips, leaning her chin on her hands, "do you love history? Museums? Architecture?"
Rose found herself nodding enthusiastically. "My parents, well my mum-," the Professor openly smirked, "-took me to Pompeii in Italy to see Sinoppoli's estate, form the Italian renaissance."
The older woman, squinted over her spectacles. "Have you considered the magical Historian route?" she asked. "International wizarding history has been poorly documented for British Wizards."
Feeling exuberant at this yet unheard of suggestion, Rose's mind was reeling with ideas and questions. A practical thought halted her future imaginings. "I don't know how I would go about getting a job doing that Professor. I wouldn't know where to start."
"I have someone in mind to whom I could give your details. I imagine it would involve a short commission piece so that they had faith in your writing ability."
Rose thought of Scorpius and his plans to travel. She shook her head to try and rid herself of the image of him pushing a gondola as she laughed sat in the long boat. That thought seemed excessive - too much, too fast.
"It would involve travelling?" Rose asked a little too keenly. McGonagall surveyed her again with a probing stare.
"I will pass on the message."
Rose tried (and failed) not to feel uneasy at McGonagall avoiding her question.
"I'd like to revisit our previous conversation if I may, Miss Weasley?"
"Erm… of course professor." Rose muttered, her earlier anxiety flaring up again.
"Are there any distractions? Outside of class?" she queried.
She already knew McGonagall would see right through her hesitance, "not really."
Her Professor regarded her once again, a deep crease forming between her eyes. "Professor Craven tells me you've rekindled your friendship with Mr Potter and by association; Mr Malfoy."
Immediately, Rose knew her blush would be impossible to hide unless she extinguished all the lamps in the room. In all her years of experience, McGonagall might think it an ambush and Rose could be dead in seconds. She lent her elbows on the table, putting a safe distance between her own fidgeting hands and the wand tucked up her robe sleeve.
She was definitely going mad.
McGonagall surveyed her reddened cheeks with intrigue, an eyebrow raising up to her greying hairline. For a fleeting second, Rose thought she saw her eyes flicker.
"Contrary to Mr Malfoy's belief, I'm aware of how intelligent he is and how much wasted potential he carries." Rose felt her jaw hit the stone floor as she heard her own words echoed back to her by McGonagall. She had to hand it to McGonagall, the woman was a remarkably perceptive judge of character.
"I fear he wanted to be so unlike his father that his laziness might be his downfall instead. How unfortunately ironic."
Rose bit down on her tongue to stop the words from spilling out, and failed miserably. "What might that have to do with me being distracted, Professor?"
McGonagall was merely observing the fall-out of how she was dealing with Scorpius and Albus' issues, she was supposed to be attempting to keep her from becoming privy to them.
"Those boys have cause as much trouble as Fred and George Weasley did when they attended this school together. I would hate for them to have a negative impact on the last few months of your Hogwarts journey."
Too late.
Although suddenly defensive, Rose sat up in her seat, considering the words the older woman had just spoken. Letting them wash over her.
So, she wasn't about to be expelled. The Headmistresses concern was more on the side of academic progress than flagrant rule breaking. A sudden confidence instilled in Rose. Gradually at first, and then expanding to fill her chest as the feelings of inadequacy faded. Had they gotten away with it? She couldn't be sure. But the dust settling on their conversation with none of the truths even touched on, she swiftly recognised the sensation between her ribs.
Relief.
"I've started having more interactions with them, certainly. I will make sure to keep my grades at the level they are at now, Professor."
McGonagall's eyebrows rose in shock, threatening to interweave with the rest of her hair.
Snape spoke again from his painting, "she's hiding something. What insolence? What way to talk to a Profess-"
"Severus! Don't make me use the curtain again!" exclaimed McGonagall gesturing towards the violet hangings around his and Dumbledore's portraits'. Turning around to face her again, she fixed Rose with a familiar shrewd look. It placated Rose's for some reason. It was a look McGonagall wore exceptionally. "You're certain?"
Rose pursed her lips a little, unsure of how much it would take for McGonagall to accept her understanding and stop probing. Having not trained in Occulmency and wanting to leave on a relatively positive note, she tried her hardest not to think about the broom cupboard scheme in that moment. And of the guilt that still came along with it.
And yet there was a different sense of guilt. One that came from deceiving her teacher who had put trust and faith in her.
"There was some tension with me and Albus for some time is all," Rose assumed McGonagall might interrupt but she didn't. "We managed to resolve it rather recently. I'm trying to make more time for him in my life –" stop talking, "-I guess with Albus and Scorpius it's sort of a two for one deal."
Now that was a little too close to home.
"I need you to promise me Miss Weasley, if you're sure there is nothing else you wish to tell me?"
The weight of everything kept her in her seat. Kept her from bolting out the door. It took everything Rose had to keep her expression neutral as she fixed her gaze with McGonagall's. She nodded.
McGonagall eased herself back into her throne-like chair. A satisfied smile stretching across her lined face.
"If this may be, I want to assure you that if the stress is getting too much; your mental health is important to us. Madame Longbottom is aware of the situation of final year students. She is available for such help, council or potion if necessary. They aren't call Nastily Exhausting for nothing, Miss Weasley."
Trying to find a shred of hope in her Professor's words, Rose left with as calm a thank you as she could manage and hurried down the spiral staircase. It wasn't until she was out in the corridor that she let out an exhausted sigh.
How was it possible they had gotten away with it? Or was McGonagall in the know and wanted Rose to admit it herself? It couldn't be. If she'd known, Rose wouldn't have been allowed out of there without at least detentions every night until she graduated.
It appeared Scorpius had been lurking close by. Rose had a moment to see a flash of musty blonde hair, feel a warm hand in her own before she was pulled into the nearest empty classroom.
Her protests were muffled as he placed his other hand over her mouth. She knew she shouldn't, but she felt an incredible thrill from it. His face was mere inches from hers, and if his hand wasn't over her mouth his face would have been dizzyingly close. The last rational part of her was maddened by both his effect on her and his inability to believe she could have handled it on her own.
"Did you follow me?" she whispered, forcibly pushing at his chest to make some distance between them.
Scorpius at least, had the decency to look a little ashamed. "I was a little concerned, I must admit."
"Don't you trust me?"
He looked at her, his eyes were guarded. "Of course. It's just, McGonagall is about as intimidating as they come. I swear she can read my mind when she looks at me."
Rose was reminded of McGonagall's words about Scorpius. How she too saw through his cavalier façade.
"Well it wasn't anything I couldn't handle, Scorpius," she said, seriously. An uncomfortable urge to remind him she was head girl reared it's ugly head. She decided on the truth. "She did warn me off the two of you. Said you might be a bad influence."
Scorpius' teeth flashed. "Too late."
"I'm not making a habit of it though," she said, her grave tone wavering as he encroached closer, her back flush to the wall. Even though the image was still raw in her mind, she couldn't help get caught up in Scorpius' closeness and the fact McGonagall still clearly didn't have a clue.
"Me neither. Our pranks don't endanger lives! And the broom cupboard thing is tame by comparison!"
"What was Albus thinking?" she asked, more to the space between them than the boy stood in front of her.
Scorpius leaned back on his heels, running a hand through his hair, "he's definitely been more hot-headed recently." He shrugged.
"I doubt the stress of coming out is helping matters," Rose pondered quietly, examining her shoes with growing interest.
"It'll be nice to get away."
Rose's head snapped up to meet his gaze, his own lingered for a moment on her lips, a small smirk playing at his own. She felt her belly flip an impressive forward vault.
"Scorp!"
Scorpius grinned and shook his head, as Albus' bodiless voice echoed from the corridor, "we might get ten minutes on our own in Hogsmeade, eh?"
Her own mouth tugged to one side and her eyes crinkled in an effort to not smile back at him. "Yeah, maybe."
Rose heard herself give an involuntary yelp as Albus burst through the classroom door. They sprang apart, even though they weren't even touching to begin with. Albus' eyes remained on Scorpius for a moment before darkening. "I'll wait outside."
She didn't have a moment to ponder any of it. What McGonagall had said about her grades. The fact her cousin could well be in love with the guy she was definitely starting to have feelings for. Whether Chambers did recall anything from the previous night.
She didn't have time to think about the implications of anything.
Or even time to think about her future, as – what was beginning to feel like a more regular occurrence – the blonde boy adjusted his glasses, grasped Rose's hand again and began guiding her towards the exit.
"We're coming!"
Well... it's been a long time. Honestly, life just got in the way. AND, I fell into writing a five-piece fic for Stranger Things. Oops.
My focus is now back on this story, but I'm having to re-read it with a tooth comb myself to check everything I've written! I hope anyone still reading this can still remember/follow it.
As for this chapter in particular, I had to let Rose off some drama for at least one chapter, didn't I?
Reviews always welcome.