Chapter Seven
Rose
"Well you're not going to leave England, are you?" Albus was saying rather loudly.
The poky little pub was crowded, but not so much that Rose couldn't have found another seat. There was a nice little secluded table over by the wizard with a purple top hat in the corner who was smoking the most curiously orange-hued rings out of his crooked pipe, and Rose itched to sit alone at it. However, she'd decided to make a conscious effort to be nicer to her cousin. Al was a good sort, if you could see past the broodiness and blatant daddy issues. He was somebody that, for all of his faults, Rose vowed she'd try harder to get along with, so she made her way to the table, intent on her new mission.
"No, of course not, mate. I think he'd just gone a bit mental for a moment." That was Scorpius' voice, Rose realized belatedly. She should have known. She never would have approached if she'd known he'd be here with her cousin.
Rose made to turn back, but Albus had spotted her. "Rosie!" he called, his voice ringing out across the pub. Rose panicked slightly. Oh Merlin, it had been a mistake to approach their table - she'd had the quite lovely idea of spending a solitary afternoon with a butter beer and the care-worn book she had stuffed into her bag, but she'd seen the back of Al's messy dark head and had impulsively decided to join him. Sensing she now had no escape, or at least not one that'd result in a very awkward conversation afterwards, she approached the table, rubbing her thumb against the rim of her butterbeer glass nervously.
There was a brief moment where the cousins realised this was the first time they'd seen each other since Albus' outburst at their Nan's several weeks before.
"Look, Rose, I'm sorry about-"
"I wanted to apologize for-"
They both paused and giggled awkwardly. "Go on," Rose said, smirking at him and crossing her arms.
"I'm sorry I went off at you in front of everyone," Albus said in one breath. He fiddled with a cocktail napkin, not quite meeting her eye. "I'm worried about you, but that wasn't the best way to address it."
"I'm sorry too," Rose replied, looking relieved. "I know you were just looking out for me," She gave a weak smile. "Besides, you were right, I am a bit miserable, and I hate my job."
Albus rolled his eyes at her, though his face seemed to soften. "Doesn't everybody?" he muttered sarcastically. "Except for this absolute swot here," he nudged his friend, who sat stock still. "Budge up for Rosie, mate."
Rose perched at the end of the bench, her eyes nervously darting over to Scorpius. So, he hadn't told Albus about that night. There was no doubt, or her cousin would've been glaring daggers at her by now. Blood may be thicker than water, but nobody came between Albus and his best friend.
If Al sensed any awkwardness between the two, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he prattled on about his job at the herbology lab for a good several minutes, telling some particularly dull anecdote or another. It was only when he cheerfully made his way up to the counter to get the next round of drinks that Scorpius even spoke at all.
"Could you get up for a moment?" he said, not properly looking at her. "Only, you're sat on the hem of my robes and it's pinning me down."
"Oh, sorry," Rose said, her cheeks flaming as she lifted her bum from the seat so he could free his trapped article of clothing.
They sat in silence for a few seconds further.
"Look, Scorpius," Rose tried, "I just wanted to say that I'm-"
He raised one eyebrow at her, expectantly.
"Butterbeers all around!" Albus said cheerily, returning to his seat with a heavy thud. "What'd I miss?"
"Nothing." The two answered, avoiding each others' glance.
"Brilliant," Albus said, nodding. "So what was I saying about the puffapods? Oh, right…"
The door to the pub opened swiftly, letting in the first hint of Autumn's cool breezes, come late this year. Rose was once again distracted from her cousin's story when she noticed Scorpius fidgeting beside her, shooting Al warning glances that her cousin subsequently ignored as he prattled on.
Rose twisted in her seat to see what had caught the blond's attention so fully, and came face to face with a pair of startlingly blue eyes.
"Bonjour! Well isn't this just bonne chance to find you here!" A very pretty blonde girl sat down on Albus' side of the booth, her smiling beatifically at Scorpius. She noticed Albus to her left and her smile seemed to falter for a just moment, but was back in place by the time Rose blinked. Nobody at the table said anything in response. Rose noticed the boys were too busy having a silent conversation with their eyes.
"Scorpius," the girl frowned, her bottom lip jutting out somewhat adorably, "aren't you going to introduce me to tes amis?"
Without waiting for Malfoy's interjection, she stuck one impeccably manicured hand in Rose's face. "Eloise Moreau," she said, smiling genuinely at the redheaded girl.
Albus seemed to find his voice finally. "That's Rose Granger-Weasley," he said, a strangely hard edge to his tone. "And I'm her cousin, Albus Potter. I'm sure we've been acquainted before."
Eloise turned her piercing gaze to Albus, one eyebrow arched elegantly. "You know, I think we have," she replied, a bemused smile gracing her features.
Al turned the most curious shade of pink.
"Did my father send you?" Scorpius finally said, his voice cutting through the group, louder than necessary for the enclosed booth they all sat in. Rose jumped, startled by his sudden interjection.
Eloise laughed, a tinkling sound. "Whatever would give you that impression?" She asked.
"Excuse me," Scorpius said suddenly, pushing himself out of his seat and heading for the toilets. Rose watched his blond head disappear into the corridor, and turned back to her two companions, eyes wide. Surprisingly, neither of the others seemed shocked in the least. She had the distinct inkling that she was missing a piece of the puzzle, and realized she didn't care for the feeling.
Eloise sighed and lifted herself out of the booth as well. "No, I've got this," she told Al when he made to follow the pair of them.
As soon as the two blondes were gone, Rose leaned over to her cousin. "Who is that?" She hissed, glancing over at the pair of them as they spoke across the room. Scorpius was gesturing wildly as Eloise looked pleasantly unflappable, one hand coming to rest on Scorpius' arm, halting his jerky movements.
"Ahhh that's, erm -" Albus' face scrunched up. Rose pinched him and he let out a little yelp, rubbing his arm.
"Spit it out, Potter," She deadpanned.
He glared at her. "Technicallllllly," he said, dragging out the word in a way that made Rose grit her teeth in frustration, "she's Scorp's fiancé."
Rose blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that. His fiancé? She'd never noticed Malfoy dating at all, let alone… Oh Merlin, was this why he'd refused to sleep with her the other night? Rose's cheeks burned with the memory. It was was humiliating enough she'd thrown herself at Scorpius Malfoy at all, let alone an engaged Scorpius Malfoy. She flushed even deeper when she noticed her cousin was watching her curiously. He seemed on the verge of asking what was sure to be an inappropriately invasive question when he was sidetracked by another arrival.
The happy couple had returned. Scorpius was staring at his feet, looking rather sheepish. Eloise looked, well, annoyingly radiant.
Rose eyed up the other woman. By Godric, but she was pretty. There was an aristocratic air to her demeanor that couldn't be learned, her robes impeccably tailored in a way that reeked of old money. Rose suddenly felt rather shabby in her old threadbare and much-loved Gryffindor jumper. She ran one hand through her sproingy red curls self-consciously as she noted how Eloise's blonde hair swept over her shoulder, effortlessly glossy. Insecurity washed over her like a wave.
The couple sat down, looking irritatingly Aryan and attractive and - ugh.
"I've just realised, I can't stay." Rose was up like a shot before she'd even realized she had spoken. Al looked up at her, his eyes wide.
"But you've only just gotten here," he said.
"Yeah, but I forgot I meant to… have to meet my mum," She lied, rather unconvincingly. Her cheeks burned and she refused to look at Scorpius at all. She could see him frowning at her in the periphery, staring at her as if she were a puzzle he were trying to solve.
She'd spent enough time in his company to know he was rather good at puzzles. It wasn't a risk she was willing to take.
Mustering up a cheerful little wave to her cousin, Rose exited the way she'd come, out of the pub and into the crisp Autumn air.
Though she'd lied to her cousin the other day about having plans with her mum, Rose figured she was about due a date with the older witch.
That, and she couldn't spend another minute in her office with Anderson griping about his mother-in-law and the ever-simpering Cassandra, or she'd most likely implode.
"I've been thinking about what Albus said the other day," Hermione confessed, after their orders had been taken and the cursory pleasantries exchanged. She folded her thin hands on the tabletop and scrutinized her daughter with exacting brown eyes. They paused in the conversation and smiled at the witch who came over to fill their glasses of water with her wand. They both pretended not to notice how the girl's eyes lingered on Hermione, and how she nervously spilled a bit of the liquid onto the table with an exceptionally unnecessary flourish of her wand. People generally making fools of themselves was a fairly common occurrence when going out in public with either of Rose's parents.
"Oh?" Rose said when she'd left, knowing nothing good would follow. "Which bit was that?" She tried and failed to sound casual, her voice cracking a bit just at the end.
"About you not liking your role within the Department of Magical Education," her mother plowed on, seemingly unaware of Rose's discomfort. "I hope you don't mind, but I had a bit of a discussion with your boss about how best to utelise your skills at work."
Rose nearly spat out her water. "Tell me you're kidding," she pleaded.
Hermione frowned. "Of course not," she told her daughter. "Why would I kid about something like this?"
"Mum," Rose whinged, her blue eyes as round as saucers, "you had no right to speak to my boss about my role."
"I think you'll find I have every right," Hermione countered. Rose shook her head, sighing deeply, knowing there was no use arguing with her mother. "You're my daughter and I want the best for you." She sat back, sipping her water and looking rather pleased with herself. "And anyway, that lovely woman Cassandra was very helpful, and told me she would personally mentor you on any new and exciting projects the department is handed."
Rose breathed through her nose, slowly, willing herself not to lose her shit at her mother. She's only doing what she thinks is best, she reminded herself. However, the idea of hours spent in close company with Cassandra's grating, simpering voice made Rose's blood boil.
"How's dad?" She asked, desperate for a subject change. Instantly, her mother's bright smile darkened, though it was plastered back in an instant. Rose hated when her mother pulled this polished politician act with her.
"He's all right," Hermione said slowly, smoothing her hair back in what Rose knew was her nervous tic. A small wrinkle appeared between her brows.
"Still working with the Aurors?" Rose couldn't help but pry.
"Yes," she replied, her brown eyes flickering up to her daughter's blue ones. Her voice lowered to just above a whisper, "They're working day and night to find who's responsible for the Goyle case."
"Why are they spending so much time on a one-off attack on an old Death Eater?" Rose wanted to know, taking a large bite of her lunch, which had just arrived with the waitress.
Her mother pursed her lips, and Rose sat up with rapt attention, her lasagne forgotten. What was going on?
"There's been another attack," her mother said, her voice lowered so that Rose had to lean in slightly to hear.
"Another one? On who?"
Hermione looked as if she were about to speak, but the waitress was back again, checking that their meals were all right. Rose waved her off, saying that her barely-touched plate was delicious. She focused back in on her mother, but was disappointed to see that she'd seemed to pull herself to her senses during the momentary distraction.
"I've said too much as it is. Top secret information, as I'm sure you know. All under control, of course." Her mother tutted, a tic going in her cheek. "How's your lunch?"
It turned out, in the end, that Rose needn't have pressed her mother for details at all. By the time Rose had arrived back at the Ministry, all veritable hell had broken loose.
"What's going on?" She hissed to Portia, who was sitting at her desk, her big brown eyes staring at the memos that were zooming around the room. The other woman blinked slowly, as if unaware that Rose had spoken.
"The Goyle case," she said, her mouth turning into a frown as she turned her gaze to her friend. "There's been another attack."
Portia pushed a copy of the Daily Prophet over to Rose, who snatched it up immediately and began to read.
MYSTERIOUS FORCES LAY ATTACK ON WIZARDING BRITIAN, RIGHT UNDER AURORS' NOSES
Though the news didn't come as a surprise, Rose couldn't help but draw a deep, steadying breath at the bold black letters on the front page. There was a picture accompanying the article, and she watched as a small animated photograph of her Uncle Harry pushed his way through a horde of reporters and flashing cameras. She skimmed the text, her hands shaking as she held the page.
Potter and the Ministry continue to keep the matter under wraps, despite increasing tension among the community, the article quoted halfway down the page. "We have a right to know what's going on!" Concerned citizen Marietta Edgcombe told The Prophet today. "How can we protect ourselves from something we know nothing about?" Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger-Weasley was unavailable for comment, choosing instead to spend a lengthy lunch at The Hopping Pot with her only daughter, Rose Granger-Weasley.
"Fuck." Rose breathed through her nose sharply.
"Rose?" Came a simpering voice to the left, "Where are the third year Arithmancy curriculum notes I asked for this morning?"
Rose's eyes continued to scan the article, spotting a picture of her mother, looking frazzled as she blinked up into the camera's light, clearly caught by surprise by whoever had taken the picture. Was this taken just after she'd left her? How had The Prophet circulated this so quickly?
"When did the post come?" She asked Portia.
"Rose? The reports?" Cassandra's face came into view, her lips in a plastic, fake smile, lips almost grotesquely parted over gritted teeth.
"I'll have them done in just a minute, Cassandra," she said, returning the smile, her cheek muscles tight. She turned back to Portia, who was blinking rather rapidly, head swiveling between the two of them.
Cassandra's voice only got louder. "Don't you think your job takes precedence over whatever little family issues you're having?" Her voice was reedy and patronizing, and Rose could feel her blood start to boil. "Do you think that just because you happen to be the Minister's daughter, that gives you a free pass to-"
"Oh, fuck off!" It took Rose a moment to realize the outburst had indeed come from her own mouth. There was a horrible silence as Cassandra's face went purple and she spluttered a bit. Rose seized the opportunity, grabbing her bag and her coat from where they had been removed only minutes ago, and heading towards the door. The newspaper was still gripped tightly in one hand.
"Do your own reports, Cassandra," she said, her voice surprisingly steady, "I quit."
She turned to go, adding to Portia quickly "floo me later." Rose walked out of the office, adrenaline pumping and her heart thrumming in her ears.