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Chapter 33: The Talk

"Is it just me," Hugo said with a grave face, "or are we knee-deep in Doxy shit?"

After visiting Rose at the Hospital Wing the day before, Hermione had taken Hugo aside before his classes to explain her intentions to run for Minister. The gravity of this news, of course, was quickly conveyed to Lily and Albus.

The three of them arrived to see Rose the next afternoon. Her misadventures, however, were hardly considered unusual to the lot of them, and their attention soon turned to the news of Harry and Hermione's foray into primetime politics. Not that Rose minded, really—she'd been curious to hear their thoughts about this unexpected development, and thoughtfully nursed a mug of Madam Pomfrey's healing tea as her brother and cousins debated the matter in rapid fire over her bed.

"To be fair," Lily was saying, "we've always known one of them would get into it eventually. If it weren't dad or Aunt Hermione, then Uncle Percy certainly would have tried—"

"Do you think?" Hugo returned, clearly incredulous at the idea. "Dear Godric, he'd bore England into a coma if he ever held a rally."

Lily cackled. "I do love Uncle Percy, but he enjoys his cauldron policies far too much."

"Ha! He's probably broken that mum didn't select him as campaign manager."

Albus shot Hugo and Lily an admonishing look from the foot of Rose's bed. "Hey. Have you two even asked about Rose yet?"

"I'm absolutely thrilled you're still alive," Lily said without missing a beat, turning to Rose with dutiful sincerity. "The same way I always am after we drag you out of the Wibble Ditch every summer—"

Hugo grinned widely at his sister. "Or untangle you from the clutches of a grumpy willow tree—"

"Or rescue you from Uncle Charlie's treehouse during a flash flood—"

"Point taken," Rose said, with a sheepish duck of her head. "Mum's already given me an earful."

"As she should. What were you even looking for this time?" Albus asked, crossing his arms. "Not the Mergirl, surely?"

Rose choked on her tea, but Lily had already hijacked the topic. "I do say, Rosie. Isn't it just a little bit romantic that Scorpius came to the rescue?"

Hugo gave Rose a none-too-secretive wink. "Jane Austen realness."

"Written in the stars," Lily agreed with frightful enthusiasm. "In fact, I was just telling Al the other day about the synastry chart I did for you and Scorpius—"

"A what chart?"

"Back to Aunt Hermione," Albus interrupted brightly, before his sister could dive into the mechanics of astrological compatibility. "I believe you know what this all means, don't you?"

"'Course I do," Hugo said, turning glum at the reminder. "Means I'll never get to publicly come out."

"Probably means dad will be busier than ever," Lily added, looking troubled by the thought. "He works so hard already."

"And the paparazzi will be crawling up our arses," Albus said, with a heavy sigh in his words. "Not to say they already aren't, but since Rosie and I will be graduating this year…"

"We have justice warriors for parents," Hugo blurted miserably. "What did we expect, that the war would end with Voldemort? That they'd get on with their lives? They've always enjoyed sticking their noses in all sorts of business—" He glanced back at Rose's impassive face. "How are you taking it so well?"

"I'm still adjusting to the idea," Rose admitted, as her brother slumped back down beside her to rest his head on her shoulder. "I did wonder, you know. If dad tried to talk mum out of it. He's never enjoyed politics."

Hugo snorted. "They probably fought about it for weeks… but he always gives in to her. You know how it is with them."

"It's not like Uncle Ron hasn't had his share of madness," Albus interjected with a wry grin. "Remember when he volunteered to lead the Auror mission in bloody Salzburg?"

"God, how could I forget?" Rose murmured, cringing at the memory. When she was eleven, Ron disappeared for a month to track a group of anti-Muggle terrorists on the run in Austria, and was unable to correspond with family while on mission. As was typical of her, Hermione had put on a brave face in front of her children, behaving as though Ron's absence was no big deal. Dutifully, Rose and Hugo had done the same—but both children had privately fretted every day until Ron's return. He'd arrived gaunt and bruised from all his efforts… wearing the most triumphant of grins on his ruddy face.

That was the moment in Rose's childhood where it all sank in for her. Just how much her parents were willing to sacrifice for the greater good.

"It wasn't something he had to do. He just wanted to. And nobody stopped him. Not even mum and dad." Albus stared thoughtfully into space. "But I guess that's what makes them heroes, innit. That they're willing to do stuff nobody else would."

"Maybe they should give other people a chance to make a damn impact!" Hugo exploded. "Why must it always be them? Like, couldn't they just retire and let someone else handle it? By Dumbledore, do you remember Tristan Shacklebolt's life when his dad was Minister? He had security detail. Now I gotta have a damn bodyguard following me just for going to a pub?"

"Depends on the pub," Lily returned with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, shut up, Lils."

Rose elbowed Hugo's side. "How's that a problem when you're barely old enough for a drink?"

"Well, one day I will be! And knowing mum, she'll be Minister for a hundred years. Kill me."

"It's Aunt Hermione or the conservative lot," Albus mused. "Anti-Muggle sentiment is on the rise, you know. Maybe they don't want take a chance. There are still people who think that widening the chasm between Muggle and magic worlds will be a boon to wizarding culture."

"Merlin's pants, yeah. I just read the barmiest commentary in Lumos Quarterly. Some git complaining about Adele doing better than The Wickheads on the charts."

Hugo's jaw dropped at Lily's words. "The heck? You're telling me our mum has to run for Minister because one wizard is upset that Muggles write better pop music?"

"…She'll be brilliant, though."

Lily, Albus and Hugo craned their necks to look at Rose. She gave them a half shrug before contemplating the clumpy tea leaves at the bottom of her mug.

"Whatever we feel about it, mum's got the right priorities," she continued, keeping her tone even. "Few people have the heart—or stomach—to change an institution. But she does, and we all know it. Think of all the strides she'd make in Muggle relations, wizarding innovation, gay rights…"

"She's bloody perfect for the job," Hugo agreed with some difficulty, looking defeated at the prospect. "Which scares the shit out of me."

There was nothing more to be said about that; they were far too aware of the sacrifices at hand. Even as Rose tried to keep her own worry from showing on her face, it was hard to ignore the fact that Harry, Ron and Hermione's campaign would render it impossible for their children to avoid media scrutiny… the way they were trying to do now.

Unbidden, Scorpius' face flashed into her mind.

Rose's fingers tightened around her mug.

"Well, now that I know you're alive and well, I'm gonna go," Hugo said at last, reaching out to give his sister a sideways hug. "Gotta go kiss some people before I get a full list of instructions on how not to live my life."

Lily rose to her feet beside Hugo, looking somewhat unsettled herself. "Me too. Maybe I'll have a chat with my tarot cards—"

"An intervention is needed," Hugo declared. "Divine or otherwise."

Hugo and Lily left the Hospital Wing arm-in-arm, their voices echoing out into the hallways as they went. Albus didn't move from the end of Rose's bed, instead picking idly at the fraying edges of her duvet. Rose set down her tea mug on the bedside table and hugged her knees to her chest, suddenly aware of Albus' oddly subdued manner. He seemed to be in a bit of a mood, which was—unlike him. It was tempting to break the silence, but Albus obviously had something on his mind.

She decided to wait for him to open the conversation.

Sure enough, Albus eventually spoke. "So. How's Scorpius, then?"

Rose gave her cousin a quizzical smile. "Why don't you ask him?"

"We're not talking. Got into a bit of a row."

That was new. Rose couldn't recall Albus and Scorpius ever fighting about anything, but she wasn't exactly privy to the inner workings of their friendship through the years. "What about?"

"Well." Albus cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "You, actually."

Rose raised a slow eyebrow. Before she could say more, Albus had plowed ahead.

"Listen, Rosie. It was cute at first, but I don't know if you should keep up with this charade any longer. Especially with Aunt Hermione possibly running for Minister. It's probably better if you two think it through again, maybe take a step back and…"

It was hard to hide her amusement. "Al. You sound like you're about to give me The Talk."

"Oh, haha. Hate me for caring." Albus jabbed at her side to keep her from laughing. "Hey. I'm being completely serious here."

Rose burst into another bout of giggles before giving Albus' arm a reassuring squeeze. "I'm kidding," she insisted, biting back a grin. "But I'm still not sure what you're getting at."

"Lily thinks Scorpius has a crush on you," Albus said flatly. "Frankly, I didn't think it was possible, but she has a sixth sense about these things."

Rose's cheeriness faded at Albus' obvious agitation. Despite the fact that she and Scorpius had never outright discussed their feelings, she already knew, in her heart of hearts, that he was fond of her to some degree. Perhaps it was a crush at some point, but now…

They were certainly beyond it.

Though the way things were going, Albus wouldn't take it too well if she mentioned any of that.

"I thought you wanted us to be friends," Rose said instead, watching him carefully.

"Yeah, well, friends don't snog in the library, do they?"

This was not a conversation she was ready to have. It was dawning on Rose that her private moments with Scorpius, as significant as they were to her, became merely sticks and stones in the hands of others. When it became clear that she wasn't going to correct him, Albus clenched his jaw.

"Merlin," he muttered. "Lily was right, then."

Rose was suddenly reminded of why she wanted to keep her growing feelings for Scorpius under wraps in the first place.

"He actually thinks he can handle you," Albus continued with a grimace, oblivious to Rose's growing discomfort. "Hell, I don't think you can handle him, come to that."

"Al," she said heavily, "neither of us needs handling."

"Are you kidding me? I know you don't care to notice, but you've got a horde of idiots after your attention. It'll drive him to madness—you've clearly never seen him in one of his episodes. I've witnessed how Plumes tried to deal with it, and even she struggled—"

"Georgia and I are hardly the same person."

"I should hope so." Albus was trying not to sound cross now. "But Scorpius still isn't a gnome you can just adopt and tame, Rosie."

"You can't tame a gnome," Rose corrected gently. "Though I did try to once—"

"Well, you just made my point! You'll try. And when it blows up in your face…" Albus shook his head, shifting closer to fix his green eyes on hers. "Look, I've thought through this—and I know the two of you better than you know each other. I actually happen to think I'm an authority on the subject."

"Albus. He is your best friend, you know. You don't think so little of him, surely."

"It's not that, I just—" And Albus had gotten to his feet then, pacing back and forth beside her bed for a full minute. Rose hugged her knees closer to her chest, watching Albus rake his fingers through his wild hair as he tried to gather his thoughts.

At length, he turned back to her with a resigned expression.

"I don't want to have to choose between the two of you," he said.

Well. There was the crux of the issue, at least. Despite herself, Rose offered Albus a little smile. "You won't have to. You'll never lose me."

"But I might lose him."

"Al…"

"It's happened before." He settled back on the bed beside her, staring up at the ceiling as he searched for the words. "He was unreachable for quite a bit, you know. That scandal back in fifth year really destroyed him. It was impossible to get through to him... And if I'm being completely honest, he made himself more miserable than Georgia ever did." He glanced tentatively at Rose. "He's not easy, Rosie. It's all fun and games with him until it isn't. You need to know what you're getting into."

The earnestness in Albus' words gave Rose pause. Her cousin, after all, only had her best interests at heart. Yet it seemed impossible to reconcile his words with the boy who shared her bed just two nights before, the insistent heat of his body wrapped around hers, his ardent kisses sweet against her mouth…

There could be no reply to Albus, because she didn't yet have the answer in tangible terms. From the beginning, her attraction to Scorpius was guided by nothing but her curiosity. At present, she only knew she wanted to be near him as much as she could; to unravel the complicated knot of her feelings for him; to get lost in the romantic wilderness of who he was. The unraveling of what lay between her and Scorpius was akin to coming across an unbeaten path hidden in the lush woods… drawing her into a strange, guarded world that both captivated and frightened her.

Despite what anyone said or whatever warnings came her way—Rose was never one to shy away from danger. She wanted to know where the path led.

If it led anywhere at all.

But such heartfelt affection for a man was so new to Rose, her understanding of these feelings still so private and precious… that it was hard to put any of it into words.

Even for someone who knew her as well as Albus did.

"I appreciate the concern, Al," she said at last, a quiet firmness in her words. "It's true I don't know what I'm getting into. But that's never stopped me before." She smiled inwardly, recalling Scorpius' words about Hugo and Tarquin. "We have the right to make our own mistakes, don't we?"

Albus stared at her for a long moment. He opened his mouth, seeming to dither between arguing and giving up. And then—

"He doesn't have feathers. Or a beak. Not even a damn paw."

Rose shook her head solemnly. "Terrible, isn't it? Though I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities."

Albus uttered a bark of laughter, the tension finally easing between them. "God, you're just as impossible as he is," he groaned. "How did you two end up in the lake, anyway?"

"Ah, where do I begin…"

Rose spent the next few minutes recounting the ordeal in starts and stops, cherry-picking the details until she revealed the Mergirl's attempt to ward off the Grindylows. Albus' bright eyes had grown wider with every word, a certain vindication filling his expression as Rose described the creature to him.

"So yes," Rose conceded, as Albus grinned stupidly at her, "she was different from how I expected her to be. Hardly the typical Merperson, really."

"As I've said," Albus crowed, his mood completely lifted now. "What finally made you go have a look, then? You never believed it when Roxy and I badgered you about it."

"Fabian's got wind of it somehow. He wrote to me and asked me to investigate on his behalf."

"Fawley?" Albus blinked in recognition. "Wait, was this the letter I stuffed in your bag?"

"So it was you. Why didn't you just pass it to me?"

Albus caught himself then. "Er, I did have a match with Hufflepuff that day, so…"

Rose tilted her head slightly, considering the facts. If Poppy was the one who read the letter, and Albus was the one who returned it…

What, exactly, was Albus not telling her?

"Al," she said slowly, "I know Poppy was the one who had my letter. How did you get it from her?"

Albus looked even more uncomfortable now. "Well, look. She dropped the letter by accident, it had your name on it, and I wasn't about to return it to her. We're not exactly friends, in case you haven't noticed."

There was more to this, surely. "And?" she prompted.

Albus drummed his fingers on his knee as he considered the topic. At length—"There's no easy way to say this, but there's something fishy going on with Langdon and Professor Crossley."

Rose's eyes widened slightly. "You found out about it, too?"

Albus released a long-held breath at her words, looking thoroughly relieved now. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in the vicinity before turning back to Rose. "Bloody hell. I thought I was the only one who suspected this."

Rose nodded vigorously. "You're not. Poppy and Professor Crossley are—"

"—having an affair."

Rose's words died on her tongue.

"I mean, it's all pretty obvious when you think about it," Albus was saying, hardly noticing Rose's stunned expression. "I am her Potions partner, you know. Always thought Crossley was making eyes at her, to be honest. And she's always been weirdly protective of him—"

"Albus," Rose hissed, forgetting to keep her voice down. "They're not having a bloody affair!"

He stopped short, bewildered. "Wasn't that what you were trying to tell me?"

"No!"

"Then what is it? How do you explain her crying outside Crossley's chambers?"

Oh, hell. This was—too much information at once. Rose squeezed her eyes shut and swatted the air, as though to stop him from saying more. "She was crying outside his chambers?"

"Yeah. The night she dropped your letter." Albus sounded impatient now. "I caught her in tears. I thought Crossley probably told her off for some essay, but she is the top student in Potions… so I figured the rumours were true."

"What rumours?"

"Well, everyone kind of suspects this in Slytherin... that Crossley messes around with the girls in his classes. Especially the smart ones. Apparently he's made a move on Emery once, but she wasn't interested. Personally, I've never seen it for myself until…" Albus paused, considering Poppy's situation. "Well, I still haven't seen enough to prove anything. But it wouldn't surprise me." When Rose merely stared wordlessly at him, her hands balling into fists, Albus added with some hesitation, "Tarquin and Scorpius said they saw her leaving his chambers before, too."

This was utterly ludicrous—not to mention impossible. Rose's breaths shallowed, her thoughts now going at a thousand miles a second.

There was no way Albus would bring this up with her unless he was absolutely sure. Even so, Rose found herself struggling to believe any of it. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding somewhere.

Could he have mistaken Poppy and Crossley's experimentation as an affair of sorts?

But what if Albus was right, and there was more to Poppy and Crossley than she or Fawley had suspected?

God, Poppy was her best friend. How could Rose not have noticed any of it?

Could she possibly be that obtuse?

"Albus, do you know what you're saying?" Rose managed, after a few moments. "What this could mean for Poppy? This is—"

"Scandal," Albus said wryly.

"It's beyond scandal, it's—" Rose buried her face in her hands. "Oh, Merlin. I can't. If any of this turns out to be true, then…"

"Well, what were you going to tell me, then?" Albus said, giving her a fixed stare. "If you didn't think they were having an affair… then what is it?"

Rose bit her tongue. It would be too much now to tell Albus about the identity of his beloved Mergirl. In light of this information, he would absolutely lose his mind. She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to ignore the prick of tears in the back of her eyes.

The thought of Poppy having gone through all of this by herself was almost too much to bear.

Even so, if she was going to help put Crossley in his place, she would need proof. "Al. Will you lend me your cloak?"

"What for?"

"If Crossley's taking advantage of Poppy, then I need to find out for myself."

To her surprise, Albus didn't reply at once. He seemed preoccupied by her words, comprehension dawning on his face. "Blimey—you're right."

"What?"

"It's not an affair when he's a bloody predator, is it?" Albus got impulsively to his feet. "I'm going to talk to Langdon."

Rose reached out to drag him back down beside her. "Albus, wait—let's think this through, at least—"

He looked incredulous now. "And let Crossley continue having his way with her?"

"I'm just saying we can't do anything without proof. It's all circumstantial at the moment, isn't it? If we're going to take him down, we need to do it properly." She took a deep breath. "Please—let me talk to Poppy first."

"And then what?"

"Then I'm going to help her. With your Invisibility Cloak."

"…Fine, you can borrow it. But I'm doing this with you."

"No, Albus—"

"It's yes, Albus. Hell, I'll even loan you the Map."

Despite everything, Rose couldn't help but smile. Moments like this reminded her of why Albus was her favourite cousin. He always had a way of making everything better, somehow. And, whatever misgivings he had towards Poppy, it was just like him to want to make things right.

"Why didn't I inherit anything cool?" she murmured, with a sigh of resignation.

"The red hair's pretty cool." Albus grinned briefly at his cousin. "What's the plan, then?"

Rose considered their options. There was no two ways about it—this wasn't something they could tackle on their own. "We have to go to Headmistress McGonagall," she said. "But first we need to make a case of it."

Albus nodded grimly. "Won't Langdon lose her badge for this?"

"I don't know." Rose glanced up at Albus, worrying her lower lip at the thought. The position of Head Girl meant everything to Poppy; she had given so much of herself to her work and duties. She still remembered the way her friend beamed the first time she pinned her Head Girl badge to her robes, at the beginning of term…

The innocence of that memory made Rose's heart heavy.

Albus, too, seemed oddly troubled by the prospect. "It would kill her, you know. If she couldn't give me detention ever again."

"It would be unfair," Rose said softly, almost to herself. "When none of this is her fault."

She only looked up when Albus patted her arm, leaning in as though he was imparting a secret. "I've got a year's worth of Dungbombs ready to go off at a moment's notice," he said. "Don't start without me."