Scorpius Malfoy turned the letter in his hands, tapping each folded edge against the table in turn. Its contents weren't unexpected, to say the least. Even if he hadn't seen Avery kissing a not-exactly-unfamiliar bloke in the courtyard a week prior, he wouldn't have been surprised. It'd been a slow week for castle gossip, evidently; the new couple was all anyone seemed interested in talking about. This, of course, implied that their engagement was to be broken; which in turn meant that his family would, of course, immediately begin arrangements for a new engagement. According to the letter his father had sent, they'd made a new agreement with the Avery family. Scorpius was now set to marry Elspeth's sister, Gwendoline, who was also in their year. To be honest, he wasn't even sure which of the two was older - they could have been twins and he likely wouldn't have noticed. He was fairly certain they weren't identical, at any rate.
He found the whole predicament oddly tiring.
Wanting for a distraction, his gaze floated about the Great Hall in a half-arsed attempt at searching the crowd. His eyes found Albus easily, as usual. Sometimes he wondered if spending so much of his life within five feet of his best friend gave him some sort of magical Potter-tracking ability.
The dark-haired boy was waving one arm in wide, excited gestures as he spoke, while his other arm rested on the table where Patrick Finnigan-Thomas held his hand. Ricky's robes had been set aside, leaving him in a black vest that showed off his Mark. A small blue bird bounced around Ricky's collarbone, occasionally stretching its wings. Although he knew Albus had a matching bird on his right shoulder blade, it wasn't visible from where Scorpius sat.
The blond frowned slightly. It was only a few months prior that Albus had found out Ricky was his Soulmate, but ever since, the two had been inseparable; which meant that quite often, Albus sat at the Hufflepuff table, which left Scorpius all alone. Normally it didn't bother him (at least, that's what he told himself) but in this moment, he wanted nothing more than some good ol' alone time with his best friend. Frankly, he missed him.
Scorpius forced his eyes to drop, which left them very little to focus on. To avoid the letter, he chose the spot where his sleeve had pulled up to reveal a discoloration in his skin. He'd always thought of it as a blessing, before. Most people had Marks that were obvious; clear shapes and even a bit of shading, like Albus's bird or Lily's arrow. His, on the other hand, was subtle; so subtle, in fact, that he could (and usually did) pass it off as a scar. Quite frankly, it looked like whatever almighty being might have made him had spilt a bit tea during the process and thought 'eh, good enough,' then sent him off to be born. Scorpius himself only knew what it was because it had been there all his life and was just about the only pigment his skin had.
This had proven rather convenient for most of his upbringing. Strictly speaking, pureblood families didn't tend to care about Soulmates, Matches, Marks, etcetera. The entire thing was largely ignored in such circles, and otherwise thought of as an unnecessary complication best avoided. Pureblood families like his own made their own matches for their children based on wealth, status, politics, and other such ideals easier to measure and exploit than mere fate. Engagements were agreements made between families, allegiances formed and little else. When a pair turned out to be Soulmates, well, all the better. When they didn't, going out and looking for one's Match (instead of accepting your assigned betrothed and acting as though you didn't have a Mark to begin with) was enough to get most people disinherited. Some social leeway was given to kids who found their Match through chance alone, although if their Soulmate wasn't pureblood it was still heavily frowned upon. Merlin forbid if the Match was a muggleborn.
This line of thinking was not helping his mood.
Scorpius stood abruptly, ignored the pointed looks of his housemates, shoved the folded letter into his pocket, and left. He'd just made it to the door when a familiar yet abnormally loud voice caught his attention.
"They're so cute! Isn't it lovely?! The Directory has helped no less than six Matches find their fated someone in just this month alone!" Lily Potter was damn near screaming from the Gryffindor table. Scorpius's eyes quickly found the curling flames that made up Rose Weasley's hair, then slid over to settle on Lily, who was seated beside her. Potter's face was bright, cheeks pink with thrill. Her brown eyes looked like dark, molten caramel, but he couldn't tell if the effect was due to her energy or the lighting. "Isn't that wonderful? So many people, who could have spent their lives miserable and alone without us - I mean, wouldn't that be tragic? Isn't it just the best that we can help them? This has to be among my top three ideas, ever. At least."
How the girl was managing to eat while speaking so many words so very quickly was beyond him. Honestly, if he wasn't watching it himself, he'd never believe it was possible.
"You should put your Mark in the Directory, Rosie! I don't know why you haven't already, really. Now that I think about it, I don't think I even know what yours is! That's weird, innit? I usually remember these things!"
Scorpius realized he'd been staring for a far-from-socially-acceptable amount of time, and turned to leave again. "I'd have to have seen it sometime, but for the life of me I can't remember. Can I see? Wait! Rose!" Lily continued to shout. Scorpius pushed the door open. "Where are you going?! I'm sorry, Rosie-Posie! Just because I forgot doesn't mean I don't love you! You're still my favorite cousin! Come back! Where are you running off to?!"
He'd barely taken a step into the corridor when a familiar mess of red curls barrelled into, through, and past him.
After a slight stagger and a moment of bewildered blinking, he ran after her. She'd disappeared out the door, around a corner, and into a small crowd. If she were anyone else, he'd have lost her three times over; but he could always spot Rose Weasley's hair. It might have helped that the crowd was headed inside to avoid the rain, whilst Weasley shoved through in the opposite direction. She ran, so he sprinted. Rose was surprisingly quick considering his stride was considerably longer. By the time he caught up to her, the crowd had disappeared and they were nearing the Great Lake. Just as he reached to touch her elbow (Merlin knows why he thought that was a good idea, he never had before) Rose spun and shoved at his chest. Scorpius stumbled back a step.
"Bloody hell, stop following me, Malfoy!" Rose sobbed.
Wait. Sobbed?
Grey eyes widened and flicked frantically over her face. "You're crying," he said dumbly. He'd never seen her cry before. Before this moment, he'd been quite certain she wasn't capable of such blatant displays of human emotion. She looked fragile. He wasn't used to it. He hadn't the time to examine why, exactly, but he decided in that moment that he never wanted to see her this way again.
"Thanks, detective. I hadn't noticed," she muttered with approximately one third of her usual venom. Her voice was muffled slightly by her wrist as she wiped the tears from her face. It didn't help. It was raining, anyway.
Before he could stop himself, he pulled her close by her wrist and enveloped her in his arms.
Precisely one second later, he realized what he was doing, and braced himself for a fist in the groin. Instead of hitting him or hexing him, however, Weasley rested her hands on his hips. They stood stiffly for a few more seconds while she slowly slid her arms up and around to hug his waist. Eventually, he felt her sob silently against his shoulder. He rested his cheek on top of her head, rubbing one palm up and down her back. Her hands gripped tight fistfuls of his jumper.
Scorpius had never hugged Rose before, but he'd also never seen her cry before; and he wouldn't stop the former until she stopped the latter.
A/N: First of all, I had to do so much research to find out that what I would call a tank top (USA), these characters would call a vest (UK), so I hope Ricky appreciated his damn shirt. Second: I'm sorry this chapter has so little dialogue! I got a bit carried away with Scorpius's inner monologue. Next chapter will have much more interaction, I promise. :)
Thank you to everyone who reviewed and subscribed! Those notifications have kept me going. This chapter took a while to get up, I know, but the next shouldn't take nearly as long. I got stuck trying to remember what I had written before I lost my old drafts, but finally decided to just toss the thought and move on. I hope you all enjoyed this update!
