You guys have been so kind! Thank you to Najajikha, raspberryrainx3, JC, seraphina, Rae Ella, Hi, JSLaw, LilyJean630, Ellen1983, emeraldhead-crimsonheart, baronnis, LillyMay77, Maxi OT, scorpiusrose, bright places, alleaf, Violettsl, BrokenByMagic, HPDWTWD, momopushoso, SkiesOfStars, crushHP, Escapingtheworldwithfiction, LovelyLadyMindings, rossiex, hpdude-4life, knottedroses, Connected-by-a-Semicolon, catwomannnnnn1, B. Vi and all the guests/anons who left reviews... I hope I haven't missed anyone! Honestly I was blown away. Thank you for loving this story and giving me so much motivation to continue. Please message me on tumblr if you'd like to talk :)

Enjoy this one!

Chapter 14: The Parting

"Letters, letters, letters," remarked Albus a few mornings later, as owls swooped in overhead and circled the Great Hall. "I've never seen you receive so many. Hell, I actually forgot how your owl looked like before today." He surveyed Scorpius as his friend continued to cut open the envelopes. "Everything going alright at home?"

Scorpius didn't answer right away. He was focused on scribbling a quick reply on a scrap of parchment, before carefully sealing the letter with a wax stamp of the Malfoy crest and passing it on to his spotted owl. Albus leaned forward in his seat, watching the process with some fascination.

"You know, I live in a progressive household," he said solemnly. "If I sent a letter home with a Potter crest, my parents would disown me."

"And if I didn't, my grandfather will." Scorpius glanced up at Albus with a brief smile. "Well, who's to know if he's already done that."

"So something is going on at home?"

"Everything's as fine as can be with a grandfather like mine."

Albus stared at Scorpius, confusion knotting his eyebrows. "What did you do now? Are they upset about you and Rosie being in the papers?"

Scorpius shrugged, tucking the rest of his letters into his robes. Tarquin had arrived, fashionably late as usual, his generous dark hair windswept and hazel-green eyes aglow. "Who's in the papers?" he said without greeting, slipping into the seat beside Albus with a languid yawn.

"We were talking about old man Lucius." Albus shot Scorpius a speculative look. "Some trouble brewing at home, apparently."

"I've dealt with it," Scorpius said curtly, not wishing to discuss his family matters at breakfast. He still wished for an appetite. "The old man thinks he has a say in my life—what's new? I can only hope he becomes susceptible to some bout of dementia in his old age and forgets he has a grandson."

"I don't wish the same on my grandfather," Tarquin said, picking up a pastry. "I need him to impart more of his chess prowess."

Albus snorted into his coffee. "I can't believe you're still trying to beat Hugo. I'm telling you, it's a lost cause—"

"Nothing is ever a lost cause, my friends. What we lack in ability, we make up for with cunning…" Tarquin's eyes seemed to come alight at the challenge. "There are always ways to win a match."

"Oh, cheating works for us Slytherins," Albus cut in with a knowing grin. "But try it on Hugo and you're a very dead man. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Tarquin merely raised a mischievous eyebrow and took another bite of his pastry.

Scorpius rested his chin on his hand, studying Tarquin with renewed interest. "…How are things with Emery, then?"

"All this talk about grandfathers, and now a question about my dear wife-to-be?" Tarquin licked his fingers, barely concealing his amusement. "Such timing, Scorpius."

"Can't I show a little concern for a friend?"

"Well, if you must know—we haven't spoken since Hogsmeade. She's a busy girl. Head in the books all the time." A thoughtful pause, as though he was deciding whether or not to divulge more. "She was just offered a three-year Mediwitch scholarship in France."

"What?" Albus said, looking up sharply at his friend. "Are you—moving with her, then?"

"That would be up to her. It's not like I have a say in this." Tarquin had relaxed into his chair, behaving as though they were discussing the weather… like none of it quite bothered him.

Scorpius and Albus glanced at each other in question, trying to process this new information.

Tarquin had never expressed any interest in a life in France.

Finally, Albus spoke up once more, choosing his words carefully. "I'm sure Emery will listen to reason. She seems sweet enough."

Scorpius smiled wryly at the naivety of the statement, but didn't correct him.

"And how is your father?" he asked instead, sidestepping Albus' comment.

"He's seen better days, of course." There was always a subdued manner to Tarquin whenever his family was brought up. The Zabinis had lost most of the family fortune close to two decades ago, when Tarquin had barely turned two. For generations, his family ran a black market for rare or banned potion-making ingredients, and were eventually busted by Magical Law Enforcement. Scorpius didn't know the details, but while they escaped doing the time in Azkaban due to their connections, the Zabinis had never recovered financially from the scandal.

Of course, it was inappropriate to discuss such a thing in front of Albus, whose father was a moral example in the wizarding mainstream. He would never comprehend the world Tarquin and Scorpius inhabited no matter how he tried—and no matter how close they were as friends.

Their existence was ruled by the iron fist of tradition, where nothing was considered too underhanded if it meant preserving the dignity of their names and bloodlines.

Scorpius let it go.

"Your concern for me concerns me," Tarquin said then, fixing Scorpius with a mildly suspicious gaze. "Now, are you going to tell us what brought this up?"

Scorpius merely shrugged, getting to his feet. "I will. But first, I need some air."

"Oy, you're leaving? We still gotta discuss Quidditch tactics!" Albus protested.

"And strategy," Tarquin added mock-seriously. "Tactics are cheap without strategy. Learned that from Hugo."

Scorpius grabbed his bookbag, and with a wave to his friends, stepped out of the Great Hall into the empty hallways. He needed time alone to let his thoughts run wild. There was too much to think about.

The letters from the morning weighed heavily beneath his robes, and so did Georgia's expectations on his mind.

I want a chance to make things right between us.

Words he had hoped for, once upon a time. Now expressed for a reason that had nothing to do with love, or any semblance of it.

If the question of Georgia lay in the forefront of his mind, then Rose was constantly in the back of his. Scorpius found himself thinking of her more than he should, especially at inappropriate moments. In class, he recalled the laughing mischief of her too-blue eyes. At dinner, he wondered about the flavour of her lip gloss. Then, he was trying to guess at what she must be up to when he was supposed to be studying.

Somehow, Rose must have sensed the chaotic nature of his thoughts, because she left him well alone the past few days. She seemed to understand, implicitly, that this was a process he had to go through on his own.

Even so, he missed talking to her. He found himself craving the ease in which they had their conversations, the quiet luxury of being truly himself whenever he was with her… Hell, he even missed her random prattling about creatures.

Which was saying a lot, really. He still didn't like creatures very much.

Particularly Arnold the Third.

But he liked her. And he could no longer deny it, even to himself. Two days before, he'd glimpsed her on his way back from Quidditch practice, and had found himself slowing his brisk pace just to watch his fill of her. Admiring the way her entire countenance lit up at something Langdon said, even as he envied the easy, casual way she'd leaned close to her friend.

Once more, he had puzzled over the growing longing to be near her.

She's not even half as pretty as Plumes, Tarquin once scoffed.

But Tarquin had never looked closely enough at Rose to map her freckles, either.

Yet, he did not want to cross Rose's path unless absolutely necessary, because the matter of Georgia was an important one. And perhaps this distraction that was Rose, as pleasant as it was, was not productive to his decision-making. If Rose was around, he thought with a growing sense of dread, he would not be able to think with a clear head.

She had asked him to go gently on her. As though there was any other way to be with a girl like her.

As though there could possibly be any other way to bid her goodbye.

He wondered, in some wild flight of fancy, if she would be willing to stay friends with him if Georgia became his betrothed. Could he and Rose keep going for walks without the media accusing her of being a hussy? Would they ever be able to stand side-by-side without the grapevine suspecting an affair?

What person with half a brain in wizarding society would accept their natural camaraderie as merely friendship?

No. Friendship would be impossible. The realisation was like a sinking stone in his stomach. Rose would not heed the gossip, bless her heart. But Scorpius knew better than she did.

It was why he managed to avoid scandal after Georgia. And exactly why she hadn't.

There was no way around it. Her reputation would be shot if they remained friends after the breakup. The media vultures would have no qualms painting her as the manipulative, clingy ex-girlfriend trying to wreck an engagement.

Which was so far from the truth of who she truly was that it ached him to think about it.

His imagination took another turn then, his mind suddenly assailed with images of some distant, probable future... of bumping into Rose at a stuffy society event ten years from now. Georgia on his arm, dressed to the nines and a sight to behold… And Rose arriving with some faceless, nameless bloke who resembled Winston Hedge, the dumb sod trailing after her and acting stupidly in love… because why wouldn't he be? And then Rose's gaze would catch his from across the room, and she would traipse over to say hello…

Despite everything.

Because that was the kind of person she was. Her damned eyes still bluer than blue, a genuine delight in her sweet, expressive face.

Scorpius closed his eyes and tried to shut out the image.

He had to make a decision.

The day of the Yule Ball arrived with much fanfare and excitement. Christmas decorations lined the halls—candy canes hung in mid-air and pops of confetti rained down on students at random. The chaos carried into the common rooms, with fourth years and up scrambling to look their best for the night ahead of them.

There was no sense of festivity within Scorpius as he got himself ready. Around him, his dormitory mates were frantically laying out all their best pieces of formal wear—some of them were in a flurry of panic, having only bothered to give any thought to their outfits now, men being men. Since a child, Scorpius never had a problem with styling himself; he had merely grown up choosing from the finest things, a habit that factored into his current clothing choices. Without much thought, he had picked up a classic set of structured dress robes in the richest of hunter greens, the signature family colour… A perfectly tailored, austere design with elegant mandarin lapels and the subtlest of trimmings.

Albus, who was hurrying by him as he struggled to tie up his cravat, paused to survey his friend.

"Hold up—I thought you were skipping the Yule Ball."

"Yeah," Scorpius said absently, "I am."

Albus and Tarquin exchanged looks from across the room, but there was a disturbing focus in Scorpius' eyes that stopped them from probing further. Scorpius ignored their confused expressions, turning to the mirror to straighten his collar.

In his mind, he was only doing this because he wanted every advantage with Georgia. To Purebloods, any such occasion called for some sense of decorum. There was no question she was going to make herself beautiful for him, and for the Yule Ball. He would dress to match her… and then some.

It was the least she deserved.

He left the common room before most other Slytherins, ignoring the gawking stares from students around him… half in admiration, and half in terror of the memory of the headlines he had inspired from the last Yule Ball. Scorpius acknowledged none of the whispers and gasps—

Blimey, is he going without Rose Weasley?

Didn't the Daily Prophet mention he's skipping the Ball?

You don't reckon he's asked someone else, do you?

Scorpius tuned all of it out, his focus narrowing to that one point at the end of a hallway that had long emptied of people. Before long, he had arrived at the Transfiguration classroom.

And there she was. Georgia was standing by one of the tall, dusty windows, the sunset light spilling in to contrast with the healthy olive glow of her skin. Rays of gold and pink seemed to bounce off the expensive beading of her canary silk robes, reflecting off of her and casting diamonds across dull stone walls… She was a damn vision. He could admit that.

Scorpius stepped in.

She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and even the soft tendrils of her dark curls were in on the seduction. A smile grew across her lips as she drank in the sight of him, a genuine pleasure filling her smoke-coloured gaze. "Scorpius, so help me Merlin." She moved towards him, a stunned breathlessness in her voice. "You look gorgeous."

He tilted his head towards her. "As do you. As always."

"Do you think so?" She did a little pirouette, displaying her finery with obvious pride. "I wore this for you."

"Did you, really?"

"Well." Georgia raised a coquettish shoulder, a charming mischief stealing across her features. "Shall we, then?"

Her smile faded when Scorpius didn't offer his arm. Instead, Scorpius raised his pale eyes to hers.

"I'm not going to the Yule Ball," he said flatly. "I'm here to discuss something else."

"What could that be?" Georgia said, with a flustered chuckle. "I thought—when you asked me to meet you here, that we were…"

"I received a letter from my grandfather two days ago," he interrupted, "offering to release my trust fund to me should I marry you."

Georgia blinked at him, long eyelashes fluttering in surprise. Then, she released a shaky breath, placing a trembling hand to her chest. "Oh," she breathed. "He approves, then? Isn't that—wonderful, Scorpius?"

Scorpius lifted a hand to caress her cheek, a strange melancholy filling his expression. "Would you like to tell me who did it? You, or your father? Who went behind my back and made this arrangement? Are you feeling so clever, Georgia, to have Lucius support your cause?"

"My… cause?" Georgia stared at him, her eyes narrowing at the accusation. "My only cause is to get us back together. What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Scorpius said, his fingers coming down to the back of her neck to trace the fine hairs there. "Except there are two things I loathe more than anything… One, having someone try to dictate my life. And two, being taken advantage of. Which category do you fall into?"

Georgia mouthed wordlessly at him. "You—you think I'm taking advantage of you?"

"Are you not? You mean to say your… sudden affections for me isn't about access to my generous inheritance?"

"You don't—mean that," Georgia choked out, her eyes filling with angry tears. "Scorpius. How could you accuse me of something like this? We have history."

"Oh, I've been living in history the past two years, Georgia." Scorpius lowered his face to hers, an almost intimate gesture. "And I don't want to live in the past any longer."

Panic flashed across her face. "You can't be serious. Scorpius. You can't possibly think Rose is better suited to you than I am—"

"Rose isn't the point. My money is. Isn't it?" He studied her shocked, wilting gaze with an almost detached fascination. "How curious this all is. You didn't shed a tear when I asked you to stay with me two years ago… And now, with my fortune in sight, you're about to cry your pretty eyes out."

"It's not about the money—"

"Then why did your family force the matter?" The severity of his gaze had her backing up against the wall. "Letters not just to my father, either… but to Lucius? You knew someone like him would hate the idea of Rose, and aren't you such a convenient solution? No—you don't want to marry me, Georgia. Your father is the one who wants this of you."

"This is ridiculous. You don't believe my feelings for you?" There was a frenzied quality to her tone now. "You know me, Scorpius. Since when do I let my father's opinion influence mine?"

"Since you went broke." A mirthless smile tugged at his lips as Georgia paled, her fists clenching by her sides. "Oh, sorry. Have I hit a raw nerve?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said hotly, but Scorpius merely continued as though he hadn't heard her.

"I've done my research, like any sensible Pureblooded bachelor would on a potential bride." His voice fairly dripped with contempt. "Your father's very lucrative—and very illegal—art dealings have been halted by the French Ministry of Magic only a few weeks ago. They've seized all of his assets and frozen his accounts across Europe and Asia. Rumour has it that he's about to be tried for crimes in art theft and fraud. Oh, he won't be sentenced, I'm sure… Some poor minion will take the fall, of course. But that doesn't mean the Plumes will be able to avoid complete bankruptcy. Yes?" He traced Georgia's trembling chin, studying the way she tried to stifle the riot of her emotions. "And so. Your father wrote my grandfather and conveniently offered your hand in marriage, in the hopes I will assume your family's debts. Isn't that right, darling?"

At this, Georgia completely stilled, an unreadable expression on her face.

"I'd have given you the world, Georgia." Scorpius' voice had dropped an octave, sounding distant even to himself. "Now… I wouldn't spare you a damn knut of my inheritance even if you got to your knees."

"Scorpius," she managed, gripping fiercely at his arm, "you don't mean that. It's just—money, after all. Your family has more than enough of it. This works out for us, does it not? You'll have me. Wasn't that what you wanted? Do I not justify the price?"

"Bless Salazar. She admits it. So all of this is about the money." There was no humour in Scorpius' laugh. "You and your fucking sweet talk, Georgia."

"So what if it's about the money?" Georgia snapped. "You act like it's the end of the world. You know I'll make the perfect match for you—your family would approve, and so would mine. I don't give a fuck who you see outside the marriage. If you like Rose Weasley so damn much, continue dallying with her as you bloody well please! With me, you get to do what you want, and we both get to keep our dignity. It's the best outcome you and I can hope for. Don't you see?"

Scorpius glanced up sharply at Georgia. Impish eyes came to mind… An adorable half kiss, hidden away behind his ear like a brand. A soft plea for gentleness.

Have you considered that you deserve better?

"Rose deserves better," he said quietly.

"Sentimental again," Georgia spat, her composure unravelling as fury overtook her features. "That's what you are, and that's how you're going to destroy yourself. Merlin, this is why I couldn't stand to be with you. You think marriage is about your damn emotions, and for that you will amount to nothing." She was shaking with rage. "You'll tear your family legacy to shreds with your pathetic need to be loved. Thanks to you, the Malfoy bloodline is as good as finished."

Now he was seeing red. Without warning, Scorpius found himself gripping her roughly by the shoulders, his expression taut from a barely veiled fury as he fought not to shake her.

"Oh, trust me, Georgia—I did think long and hard about marrying you. And if I were one bit as unhinged as you think I am, I would have gone through with it just to ruin you." He closed in on her, pinning her down with grey eyes darkened into a frosty slate. The shade of a thousand thunderstorms. "Consider it a privilege that I decided not to take you as my wife. You'd have no money, no power, no say over me or our marriage. I'd own your body, your actions, your fucking life. You'd detest me every damn day, and your father would still kiss my feet for every coin I spit in his direction. Hell, the fact that he's willing to sell his own daughter out to a man she can barely stand just to stay afloat... I imagine he'll even thank me for it." His mouth twisted in disgust. "And you think I'm pathetic."

Georgia watched him with a mixture of resentment and desperation, but the fight was going out in her eyes. Scorpius released her, the violent rage he felt towards her passing through him like a cloud… leaving behind a numbing emptiness.

"We're finished," he continued, a brutal finality in his tone. "We were poison to each other from the start. You'll thank me for this one day."

"You've already ruined me anyway," Georgia whispered, barely able to suppress a sob. "And my family. You heartless sod."

"If I truly were heartless," Scorpius said without feeling, "I'd marry you."

Georgia gave him an anguished look and pushed past him, her heavy steps echoing off the walls of the classroom as she stormed out the door. Scorpius listened to her go, his weight collapsing against the wall, a weary relief whispering away the mangled burden in his chest. He rubbed his face with a trembling hand, a sense of disbelief overwhelming him… the ever present fever fog of the last two years finally lifting its spell and evaporating into the newly moonkissed evening.

He was free.