I rolled up from my laying down position on my bed after skimming the letter again to make sure I caught everything. I was far too excited about this short letter from Scorpius. That couldn't have been sane, but I didn't stop to think. I hurried across the room to my desk scaring the crap out of Andrew (seriously I did, I had to clean it up afterwards) and slid into my desk chair. Andrew stared down at me, annoyed, from the top of my wardrobe while I rummaged through my cluttered desk drawer for a piece of parchment that didn't have bits of homework written on it.

I grabbed a quill from the mug of quills in front of me on the desk, unscrewed my ink and begun.

Dear Scorpius,

I began and then stopped. The excitement drained out of me all at once leaving me feeling empty inside. I tapped my quill against the parchment watching as it left blobs of blue ink in its trail. I wanted to write to him about everything, but I didn't know where to start or stop. I bit my lip. Writing was a lot harder than talking to him. If he was sitting on my desk instead of the parchment I would've happily talked to him until his ears fell off or he interrupted me to put his point in. I could see his face, hear his laugh, hear all the different tones and reactions in his voice.

I turned to Scorpius' letter that was sitting on the desk next to my parchment. I wondered if he had this conversation with himself (probably not) or felt this much energy writing a letter to me (definitely not, I think). I could picture him effortlessly putting his words into sentences. I stopped tapping my quill, I pushed my hair out of my face and tried to change my attitude to cool, collected and witty.

Nice to see that you're already desperate for me

Yeah, wrong attitude. Scratch, scratch. I always have something to say, yeah, right, Scorpius. I think this proves him wrong.

I'm bored too, well, compared to what I'm usually doing at Hogwarts. I was organising my bookshelf when your owl came. Please excuse my handwriting, I have lost several fingers to Andrew and also on that note excuse the blood.

Okay, getting the flow back. Thank you blood that is dripping on my parchment for inspiring me.

Don't go joking about house elves or I'll go all SPEW on you. You've seen that before and this time, the wand will be out. If I had one wish it would be to right now have our Honeydukes pile back again and to do some study in the Library with you like every Saturday. I have no stories that'll interest you so far. Only talking to my family and dinner. But from what I've read you already have your hands full of family conversations with your Grandmother. 'Pestering' isn't the nicest word you could've used to describe her. Pestering sounds like festering.

My mother has been bothering- see nicer word than pestering- because I told her about my friends using 'he'. You are now Eric, a Ravenclaw, who I tutor. I have so much backstory to keep her off my back about it. We got to know one another when I defeated you in a fair duel and you begged for my mentorship, guidance and tutorage.

Maybe you and your seer powers can see into the alternate universe where this occurs and tell me more. As you know my powers can only see so far.

Do you have an undercover person for me?

She better not be-

A knock came at my door cutting through my train of thought and making me jump. I almost broke the end of my quill as I yelled out hoarsely,

"Just a minute!"

The handle of the door jiggled and I panicked. Scorpius Malfoy's owl, Scorpius Malfoy's letter, my letter to Scorpius Malfoy and Scorpius Malfoy's owl shit on the floor.

I went to the door almost (stupidly) bringing the letter with me. I opened the door and smiled at my mom standing on the other side. I closed it behind me and stood in the corridor with her.

Mom looked at me and frowned.

She then made a move to pull open the door but jumped back when I yelped,

"DOoooooon't!" In a wobbly voice.

"What are you up to?" She asked cutting to the chase.

Oh, Merlin, I didn't think if I was going to get discovered it would be on the first letter.

"Nothing," I said shrugging my shoulders and hands trying to act casual and innocent.

"What's happened to your hands?" mom gasped. She grasped one of them before I pulled back.

She scanned it over and had a conclusion before I could even open my mouth to explain myself.

"Do you have an owl in there?" mom asked with such certainty that I knew there was no way I was getting out of this one.

Busted.

"I'm writing a letter to Abby," I said still trying to block her from the door.

"It's very late to be writing letters." She snaked around me and opened the door.

And what I saw almost made me cry. No owl and no letter were on my desk only a piece of parchment pushed off to the side. I couldn't believe my luck.

"Why is there owl dung on the floor?" mom said crinkling her nose after taking in the room.

"The owl left that," I said almost speechless.

I didn't like all the lies I was telling mom. Just the two was too many. I had to be more careful. Mom was still doubtful, I could tell. What if she used legilimency on me? Why did I have to think of that? I squirmed behind her at the thought then rational thoughts came along. She would already know and would've said something by now. A number of times I had thought about Scorpius right in front of her (to many to count on my fingers and toes). Plus mom doesn't believe in that so I am safe (for now).

"Did Abby get an owl?" mom asked me. "I thought she used the owl post to send you letters and those owls don't leave- a mess."

"Yes, mom," I answered.

Mom nodded and narrowed her eyebrows in thought, "I came up here for something. I can't remember what."

"Work?" I suggested casually making my way over to my desk to make sure the name Scorpius was not in sight or engraved into the desk by the owl. "Hugo? Dad? Food?"

She suddenly clicked her fingers, remembering.

"I hate to ask you so late but," She started. "I need someone to arrange the files for tomorrow and I have about twenty, no thirty other things I have to do."

"Sure, mom," I replied happy to leave my room and be surrounded by files.

Mom let out a grateful sigh of relief. Somehow the bags under her eyes had gotten bigger since the train station.

"Do you want me to make you some tea before I do that?"

"Coffee, I think will keep me more awake. But make some tea for yourself." She added in a motherly tone before reaching out for my hands and healing the cuts made by Andrew in seconds.

I admired her handy work. I could only practise my charm at school, it didn't work as fast as that. Mine took thirty seconds at it's best to heal cuts completely while hers only took 15 seconds.

I made her some coffee and some tea for me. I carried it on a tray with a plate full of all the biscuits I could find in the center. I could already tell it was going to be a long night for her in the study. Mom looked like she needed all the biscuits she could get.

Dad, however, robbed a few faster than I could stop him when I passed him in the sitting room.

I then, being extra protective of the remaining biscuits, walked to the back of the house where mom's study was.

I kneed the half opened door fully open to see mom sat at her desk illuminated by the only light in the room that was turned on, the lamp on her desk. She definitely had more than thirty things to do by the looks of it. Her desk was overrun by papers, files, books and folders stacked in neat piles.

I always liked my mother's study. When I was younger I used to play on the floor while she worked but in more recent times I'd read in the corner and helped her where I could.

"Here you go," I announced setting the tray on a stack of stable looking papers.

Mom gave me a smile as I placed her coffee on her usual coaster by her arm.

"Thank you, Rose."

"Where are the folders?" I asked scanning the desk for any hints.

"Over on the coffee table." She nodded towards the relaxing area by the window that was made up of a comfortable sofa, two armchairs, and a small coffee table. It was where mom usually spent her leisure time. "They have to be sorted by date and alphabetically."

I took my tea and some biscuits. I headed over to the table past several towering bookshelves. I sank into the pillows and flipped the first folder upwards to look at its date.

Everyone who comes to mom's study always says it reminds them of the library at Hogwarts which is what mom designed it off of. It looked like a smaller version of the Library at parts like the wallpaper, windows, and floor. But I couldn't compare it to Hogwarts' anymore as I sat dunking biscuits and sipping tea. The aura was somehow completely different to Hogwarts' library. Too quiet. Which was strange for a library because some people would say a library is never quiet enough, that's what Madam Pince would definitely say.

I suppose it wasn't the library at Hogwarts if I wasn't taking frequent breaks to grin up at Scorpius only to find him already grinning up at me. It's been a while since I've been in there alone which I know younger Rose would more than protest to. She would be horrified at the thought of no browsing through books for hours on end without a distraction purposely in front of me.

I really hoped Andrew had taken the letter to Scorpius. I don't think he liked me enough to do me any favors. I found out that he had at three o'clock in the freaking morning.

I was in a deep sleep all warm and snuggling into my blanket with Pumpkin when a tapping came at my window.

I woke up hazy trying half-heartedly to place the sound.

"That's Hugo moving around his stupid furniture," I muttered into my pillow not having the strength to open my eyes but the tapping persisted getting louder until finally I opened my eyes and forced myself to get out of bed.

In the dead silence of the night, the tapping was creepy. I grabbed my wand from under my pillow and sneaked to the window with it. I pulled back the curtains and choked back a scream when I was met with the massive white eyebrows of Andrew.

After recovering and getting my heart beat back to normal I unlatched the window and let him fly in. He was covered in flakes of snow and dotted my floor with them as he flew to the top of my wardrobe.

I shut the window, I was already freezing in my fluffy pyjamas. It was snowing outside but I didn't stop to enjoy the dark winter wonderland outside my window. I had a feathery problem sitting on top of my wardrobe to deal with.

I gave a sideways glance at Pumpkin but he was still just a breathing shape under the covers asleep. I switched on the lamp on my desk and turned to meet the challenging eyes of Andrew. There was a letter tied to his leg. The knot was, even more, looser and droopier than last time and threatened to fall off.

I braced myself. I, very skilfully, tiptoed across to the wardrobe carrying my desk chair in my hands. Andrew wasn't impressed. His expression and position didn't change. I put the chair down and climbed up on it. With all my focus and physical strength, I pulled the letter free in one swift hand movement.

I wobbled on the chair in satisfaction while Andrew angrily nipped the air where my hand had been. He ruffled his feathers making the melting snow on his feathers rain down on me. I winced at the cold shower and shook my fist at him, my lips tightly shut.

I hopped back to the floor trying to create as small of a thump as possible. I crawled back into bed with the new letter. I was delighted that it was still toasty warm (thanks to Pumpkin). I ripped the envelope open (that was loud) and pulled the letter free.

Dear Rose,

You annoyed me for a novel of a letter and you only sent me half of one. Did the rest of your fingers fall off? No envelope or anything. I tied the letter onto Andrew loose so you wouldn't get hurt getting my letter. How did you get Andrew to carry your letter in his beak?

I can't believe you're using Longford as a cover for me. I know you think I'm a git but I not on that level. Maybe Percilla Goyle would work as a cover for you. I don't have any predictions about Eric/me, yet but I have seen an extremely annoying... next paragraph … in your future.

My mother deserves the word pestering. She made me cut my hair. She took me to her hairdresser. Thank Merlin you're not going to see me until we go back to school. And no before you ask I will not send you any pictures of it. My dad then, try not to choke, greased, gelled or whatever you call it back my hair! He likes it. And I am still trying to get it out of my hair. He's bats. He thinks just because we look alike that I have to be his mini Draco Malfoy.

Enough about them. I could give you a zillion letters about them and still have stories and words. I'm not even back a two days. I suppose it can't be much better being the daughter of you know. You probably have a stupid hair story.

I have to stop writing now because I have to go to some fancy dinner thing.

Scorpius

I didn't feel tired. My fingers were twitching (seriously) to write back. The block from earlier was a distant memory.

I grabbed some parchment, my quill and swung my toes next to Pumpkin for some warmth.

Dear Scorpius,

I wrote. Then glanced up when I felt a pair of eyes on me. Those eyes belonged to Andrew. He was watching me from his perched position on top of my wardrobe more intensely than before. Only then did I become suddenly aware that my cheeks hurt and my eyes felt watery and raw. And just like that, the painful smile slipped from my face. I wiped my eyes, I wasn't crying I was silently laughing at Scorpius in the dark.

Andrew is a lot cleverer than you give him credit for. I couldn't finish the letter, not because my fingers were falling off, but because my mom almost discovered your owl and our letters. Andrew took off with my letter just in time leaving only his dung on the floor as evidence.

So while you were enjoying getting your hair greased and shaved I was organising my mom's files, they never end. I don't care what you say I want to see a picture! Only joking! What do you mean you look like your dad? You're way better looking than him. But you do have my sympathy, I can't picture your hair like that at all. Why would your mom want to change it?

I stopped for a second and chewed thoughtfully on the end of my quill. I bit my tongue by mistake when I thought of Scorpius' hair. It wasn't at all like the slicked back look his father had. It was most of the time unkept and flopped forward onto his forehead. Dead straight but it looked soft, it was soft, I remembered from a couple of accidental (maybe not accidental) brushes against his hair.

It's great the way it is… was.

That's one way to put my opinion/now obsession.

My hair care stories are a never ending horror story and you know that, Scorpius! You saw it every day at Hogwarts. I, thankfully, do not have any embarrassing haircut stories. My mom's solution is to tie it up and leave it alone.

By the way, I don't think you're a git on any level. You're sweet and nice, I mean it.

Yours, Rose

P.S Write to me about the dinner party. I can't imagine you sitting still and serious through a fancy dinner.

'Done,' I thought to myself then I looked back down again at the parchment 'Yours, Rose' Mistake!

I was just about to scratch it out when I realised doing that would draw more attention to it. He might think under the ink was love or something along the embarrassing lines of that. I remained as calm as I could and muttered to myself with some sense,

"Maybe, just MAYBE." I tried to be quiet. "He'll glance over it and take no notice of it. He probably won't read the bottom of the letter. What's even the point in reading the bottom of the letter he knows who it's from."

I could've just written a new letter but for some reason, I wanted to send it. Some part of me wanted him to read that part and respond to it.

Before I could debate anymore about it with myself Pumpkin let out a large snort. It made me jump, it was no wonder since he had been completely quiet while I was writing the letter. It was built up over time.

So I marched on my tiptoes to my desk to get an envelope careful not to alert the whole house of my nighttime (or morning time) letter writing.

Andrew was watching me approach and suddenly took off from his position on top of the wardrobe. He flew to the window and perched on the sill. I flung my hands over my head thinking he was about to attack me from above. I was more than relieved when I saw his white eyebrows raised and his claws scratching at the window like a dog desperate to get out.

I tiptoed over to him and held out the letter to him. He took it instantly in his beak almost snapping my fingers with the envelope. The scratching at the window grew louder and quicker. I carefully moved around his incredibly sharp talons that had no doubt left scratch marks on the glass and unlatched the window. Snow fell in through the window as he jumped out into the night. I shut the window my teeth starting to chatter already.

As much as I hated waking up in the morning and having to leave my bed. I didn't mind writing to Scorpius at three o'clock in the morning one bit. In fact, it was better than sleep. Maybe I should complain about the early hours. If it was any other friend I would rant like crazy after leaving it til morning to write back.

I went back to bed. When I woke up which was at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. Andrew was tapping at my window again. It didn't take as long as it did the first time for me to recognise the call. I rolled out of bed wiping my eyes of sleep and opened the window for the snow covered owl. Even though it had stopped snowing Andrew was covered in it.

"Poor thing must've been flying non-stop." I cooed to him as I unlatched the window.

Andrew wasn't grateful for my words instead he flew to the top of the wardrobe like last time. I shut the window and pulled the curtains shut on the garden that was completely white.

Before I could greedily grab my letter, I headed (sneaked) downstairs to get Andrew a bowl of water knowing that if I gave him Pumpkin's war would break out.

Before heading into the kitchen I could hear humming and the clatter of cutlery. Food and humming combined could only be dad.

"Dad?" I called out before entering the kitchen in case it was a humming burglar.

"Rose?" he called back before I entered.

I was shocked to see him up this early he was as much of a morning person as I was. And he looked just as surprised to see me standing in the kitchen at seven.

"Why are you up at this time?" he asked first. He was still in his striped pyjamas and had a steaming cup of something in his hands. "Not another nightmare?"

I headed to the cupboard to pulled out a bowl. I let out a small laugh at that, "Dad, my nightmares were like five years ago."

"Really?" Dad said surprised. "I could have sworn last year I was in your room trying to calm you down."

"That was before Hogwarts," I replied pouring some water from the tap into the bowl.

"Who's that for?"

"Pumpkin."

"What happened to the one with all the sparkles George gave you?"

He should say without the sparkles. Pumpkin tried to eat the plastic gems decorating it so I had to remove them and throw them in a bin on the other side of the castle in a zip locked bag where Pumpkin couldn't get them.

"He kept trying to eat the sparkles."

Lying to my dad was a lot easier than my mom… when it came to certain non-gossip related things that he didn't try to nose in.

"Why are you up so early?" I asked changing the subject.

"I going to help Harry with some Auror stuff."

"Doesn't Uncle Harry have a team for that?"

"Yeah, but did any of his team help him defeat you know who?" Dad said grinning proudly to himself. He looked off into the distance with a dazed look, returning to 'those days'.

"What are you helping Uncle Harry with? Can I come?" I asked optimistically even though I knew the answer was going to be a definite no.

"Sorry, Rosie, staking out an ex-death eater house isn't something for a little girl to be doing."

"Which ex-death eater?" I asked suddenly worried that another member of Scorpius' family or even Scorpius himself (you never know) was going to Azkaban. I would usually complain about dad calling me a 'little girl' but the dread that he would say Malfoy overwhelmed that.

"Why are you looking so worried, Rosie? Nothing is going to happen to me. I'll be prepared with my wand and a box of cakes."

If it was the Malfoys he would've been all over the house yelling about it. He'd probably be already over there with a camera and the press. He would've invited me if it was the Malfoys and he'd tried to make a family day out of it.

"Mulciber." He said before taking one last swing of his mug. "Harry says he's old but slick. I say he's just a cranky old man with too many connections in Diagon Alley."

"Is he the one that was putting 'Voldemort is back posters' up in Knockturn Alley?" I asked.

"That's the guy. But he isn't coming back, Rosie. I can guarantee that. So you can stop having nightmares about that."

I frowned, "I know, dad, I keep telling you I don't believe in any of that and I'm not having nightmares. I think the Voldemort Mulciber's posters are referring to is the guy in Diagon Alley. The one that dresses like a sheet has unicorn tattoos on is head and has a nose. He dances and hands out blood-flavoured lollipops to children."

I laughed at the memory of the man and dad chuckled.

"He's harmless. He has a ministry permit. The only problem he has is your mother trying to shut him down. Speaking of her I am at the shop checking up on the stock if she asks."

"Dad-"

"Please, Rose, I'll be back before Hugo wakes up."

"Okay." I gave in. "Please don't do anything stupid."

"That's my girl." He said patting my head before heading out of the kitchen. "I best get ready and you best get back to bed."

I headed out of the kitchen with the bowl of water in hand. I hurried up the stairs remembering Scorpius' letter still tied to Andrew.

I placed the bowl of water next to Andrew and this time only got a small nip when I attempted to free the letter.

Dear Rose,

Surprise! I can sit still and serious through a dinner. It's the Malfoy in me. The dinner was with the Talbot family they're new money and pretend that they don't have a drop of muggle in their blood. You probably don't know their son. He's a Slytherin in the year above us, is on the quidditch team and is a major prick. Remember when I tried out and got hit in the face with a bludger, he's the guy that hit it. I had to listen to conversations about the most boring things. I swear to Merlin I was about two seconds away from hitting that prick with my own bludger. If you were there you would've hexed him into the next dimension if you heard what he was saying about Hogwarts and people's blood.

Anyway, it's nice to know that you don't think I'm a git. Sweet? Why do you keep using that word? I don't think I could stand anyone but you saying that about me, Rosie.

I am not sending you a picture of my ridiculous haircut! You'll frame it. Maybe I should send you a picture of me with my usual better hair since you like that so much. Never heard 'you're way better looking than your dad' before. Never thought I'd see you write that.

Please stop talking hippogriff about your hair. It's not as bad as you think it is. If you could see my hair you'd feel better about yours but I'm still not sending a picture. No exaggeration I am still trying to get the clumps of fat, grease or gel out of my hair. By the way, I'm going to be hiding in my bedroom forever from my mother. She really, really, wants to put more stuff in my hair to make me look like a mini Draco.

Seriously, I think this is going to be a long holiday. I would've stayed at Hogwarts if anyone I like was staying for Christmas.

Yours, Scorpius