Yay! New chapter!

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Now on to the chapter!

Chapter 10

November 30th

The continuation of the night

~oOo~

Ron couldn't keep back a sigh as the heads of departments all stood and started to leave the room. He sat down heavily in his seat, put his face in his hands and just tried to breathe.

It was a mess. This was all such a mess.

Harry had left hours ago and with no signs of him returning Ron was at a loss. Harry was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement not Ron. Harry was always the one in charge of these meetings. Ron was just there to help. He should not have been the one in command at this meeting.

The truth was Ron had always been in Harry's shadow. When he was young that used to bug him, like an itch. But now after everything, Ron sighed, all he wanted was to be in the shadows to live peacefully with his family. He was perfectly happy to let Harry take the spotlight, to be in control.

This was why, after two hours of talking to the Heads and telling them what needed to be done, Ron was exhausted.

He didn't want the pressure of being the one everyone looked to anymore. If he had ever been even slightly envious of Harry for being the one chosen for the Head of the department he wasn't anymore.

This was all a little too much for Ron at-the-moment.

"Weasley"

Ron didn't jump at the loud voice, it was almost as if he knew it was coming. Lifting his head Ron stood, standing as he should when a person of higher authority was talking.

"Sir?"

The Minister walking into the room, closing the door behind him. He was a tall man, thin, sharp looking. His eyes were hard and his dark hair was receding.

Ron didn't like this man, he wasn't even really the Minister, he was simply the stand in while a new one was being elected. The previous Minister had sadly passed away earlier that year, suddenly and unexpectedly, leaving behind confusion and chaos. Electing a new Minister was a lengthy process, and thus Augustine Barr had been put in charge until a decision had been made.

Barr came to a stop in front of Ron, his sharp jaw clenched tight. This man had never liked Ron and Harry, said the fame made them think they were gods, better than the rest of us mere mortals, something Ron resented.

"Tell me, Weasley. You are Potter's partner aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And he is the Head of this department, is he not?"

"Yes,"

"Then, why are you directing a meeting you have no business directing and why isn't he here doing his job."

Ron clenched his fists behind his back, praying to the gods above for patience.

"He had to leave sir. Grey Albertson... Well, Harry trained him, sir. They were close. His death hit him hard."

"He is not being paid to form ties with his men. He has a job to do, there's no time to be galivanting about drinking himself into oblivion. Have you tried to contact him?"

Ron tensed, his teeth hurting from how hard he was clenching them. "Yes sir, he's not answering any of my calls. And sir with all due respect, Harry simply needed a moment. One of his men and a close friend was murdered and left in his office in pieces. This isn't something you find out and not take a few hours to digest."

The Minister shook his head. "Be that as it may Weasley, this is still a case. An open case, may I remind you, and for the investigation to go forward we need all the Heads of Departments here. Not off grieving. Potter needs to learn how to separate his work life from his personal life and how not to have them affect each other."

"I understand sir but as you know while Harry is not here I am his stand in and I have a lot of work that needs to be done. This is something you should be telling Potter, sir. Not me."

The Minister stepped forward, his hands folded behind his ramrod straight back and his eyes focused, "No Auror Weasley this is something I think you need to hear as well. The previous Minister may have favoured you above the others but I will not. You and Potter are here to work and as such, you are not to disappear in the middle of an investigation. A man was murdered. Murdered, Weasley. That takes precedence over emotion. It is our duty and our responsibility to find the one who did this and bring just a little peace to this man's grieving widow. Do you understand me?"

Ron dropped his head a little at the mention of Grey's wife, guilt hitting him hard, and no longer meeting the Minister's eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Good" The Minister moved back and started for the door. "He was one of our own Weasley. He deserves justice for what was done to him."

Ron nodded again.

"Oh and Weasley." Ron looked up, "If you did manage to get in contact with Potter, I suggest you tell him to get his arse back over here before I send out a team to curse it back." Then he was walking out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, sir," Ron muttered.

Ron sat back down and just waited for a long moment. Thinking, breathing, calming down. Coming up with a plan. Until he stood and walked to the door with a confident stride and his face set into what he thought looked like what he always called Harry's work face.

It was loud outside the conference room. People moved around, papers lay on every surface and no one seemed to know analysing what they were supposed to be doing.

"Gennings, Forcet, Pairings. Control room, now!"

Ron moved through the herds of people after the shouts of, "Yes sir" had been heard and in a moment he was standing in the Control room.

The room was dark and full of blinking buttons and flashing switches. It was the command post, the H.Q., where the lead technicians and organizers of the missions sat and monitored teams that went out on missions.

At the moment, it was the place where all the data about the murder was being looked over.

A moment later Gennings, Forcet, and Pairings, three of Ron's older Aurors entered the room and Ron started putting them to work. In a matter of an hour, Ron managed to section off all his people into three areas with Gennings, Forcet, and Pairings as their leaders. There was a group for analysing all the evidence they had received from the body and CSI team. A group for trying to figure out how someone had gotten into the Ministry with a dead body and into the Head of Departments locked office. And a team that was working with Ron on figuring out the murder.

Ron was in the middle of directing some new Aurors on what to do when a knock sounded at the door.

He sighed, got up, and moved over to the door. He opened it to find his poor secretary Patty looking quite frazzled.

"Yes Patty, what is it? Is Harry back?"

Patty shook her blond curls, "No sir-"

"Bloody hell!"

Ron motioned for her to continue even as she looked over his shoulder at the man who had just yelled.

"Well sir," she began again, "You see it's Healer Lynd-"

"Patty I told you, With everything that's happened I can't leave. Didn't you tell her that we'd reschedule?"

"I did sir but you see, it's your daughter; there's been an incident."

"What?" Ron moved forward, stepping past the door frame and closing it behind him, efficiently cutting off the loud voices of aruguing Aurors "What about Rose?"

"She collapsed sir."

"What? How? Why? Is she alright?"

Patty shook her head. "Don't know sir. All the Healer said was that you should come as soon as you can."

Ron cursed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose hard.

His head was racing. Thoughts flying about. His little girl had collapsed. Something was wrong. He needed to get to her. Find out what had happened. But he was needed here. He couldn't leave. With Harry gone he was the only one high enough to run things.

Ron cursed again, hating that this was even a debate in his mind. He should go. He needed to go. Work should not and could not take precedence over his child and his wife. But how could he just leave?

He couldn't.

But Ron was already moving. His head said no but his heart was yelling yes. And his heart was what won out in the end. He had to see his little girl. Flying down the hall, and into the busy common area, Ron ran. He had just made it down the lifts and was exiting into the main level when someone called his name.

Turning, Ron was greeted by a mess of black hair and the smell of smoke.

"Harry! Finally, you need to get upstairs. It was a mess. I just managed to get it all under control. Gennings can explain and fill you in on the case." Ron made a move to leave the floor but Harry grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Woah! Where are you going? I need your help on this."

"It's Rose. Patty says the Healer flooed. Rose collapsed at school."

Harry nodded, his green eyes looking troubled and concerned. "Go, mate, I'll stay here and hold everything over. Send an owl and tell me and Gin how she is yeah?"

"I will mate." Then Ron was running.

~oOo~

Hugo's POV

The clock on the mantle chimed nine o'clock pm and Hugo stirred in his seat. Thirteen hours. That's how long it had been since he had been sent away from the hospital wing by a very frazzled looking head nurse. She had said that they needed to go to class, and that skipping would only hurt them and do nothing to help Rose. They hadn't been able to argue.

Hugo glanced up as the sound of the portrait opening caught his attention, only to sigh and look back at his forgotten textbook when it proved to be no more than a student returning from dinner.

It was no use trying to concentrate on his homework and he knew it.

He was bollocks at potions even when he wasn't distracted. If it hadn't been for his mother he would have skived off more than one assignment.

As it was, he didn't think that his mother was going to be quite as preoccupied with his grades as she was normally.

He slammed his textbook closed in frustration, "Dammit!"

Why? Why the hell did Rose have to be so stupid? His older sibling was so damn smart. Why had she acted so bloody irresponsible? But his question was already answered for him.

Because it involved Scorpius Malfoy.

Hugo scrubbed a hand roughly down his face, unceremoniously threw his book into his bag and trudged towards the dorms.

Rose and that bloody tosser Malfoy had always driven Hugo nuts. The way they fought and bickered like children. Hugo was by no means mature, in fact, he was the very opposite but he made it a point to never hold grudges.

Pride comes before the fall. That was something Hugo had learned a long time ago. Pride will cost you everything and leave you with nothing. And if there was one thing Hugo knew, it was that his sister had a lot of pride where Scorpius Malfoy was concerned.

It wasn't even big things that she was prideful about. Hugo could think of many small things throughout the years that just held little hints. Like the fact that Rose never apologized to Malfoy for anything, never said thank you even when it was deserved, and never admitted to needing help from him.

But it had always been like this. Even in her first year, Hugo remembered reading Rose's letters home mentioning an annoying git Al had befriended that Rose didn't like at all. His sister was polite to everyone else, but then Malfoy came along and she turned into someone Hugo couldn't recognize.

What Hugo didn't understand was that there was no basis for this dislike. No reason. Rose just seemed to have decided the first time meeting this boy that she wouldn't get along with him. And that made no sense to Hugo.

Then again not a whole lot of Rose and Malfoy's relationship made sense to the younger Weasley.

Hugo tossed his bag onto his four-poster and walked over to the large bay window next to it. The sky outside was dark and the stars glittered brightly even as clouds threatened to block them out.

He sat down on the edge of the window and just stared out it. He so desperately wished that the universe, fate, or whatever all-powerful entity that was controlling all of this would just stop. Why did it always have to be them? Why was the world plotting against the Potter-Weasley family to make life difficult?

Hugo sighed and leaned his head against the cold glass of the window. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the image of his mother crying and Rose seizing out of his head. They were down there, his mom and Scorpius, sitting around his sister, waiting for her to wake up. He felt the guilt and anger at himself that he wasn't there with them. He knew he was acting like a coward, that he should be there with his mother and sister, but he just couldn't.

The thought of sitting there for hours on end, watching Rose in pain, his mother so broken and seeing the tears rolling down her face. It... It was just too much. He hadn't been able to.

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to block out the memory. Dammit! Why was he such a coward? But no matter how much guilt he felt he still didn't move. He stayed like that, sitting there in his black jumper, his shocking red hair sticking out everywhere, his glasses perched haphazardly on his nose and just thought. And thought and thought.

The sun was rising by the time he finally moved, sliding off the ledge and walking the numbness out of his limbs as he went to take a long, hot shower.

And in all the time thinking he had only come up with one explanation for what had happened.

Pride comes before the fall.

~oOo~

Scorpius's POV

Two nights. A day and two nights. That was how long Rose lay there on that bed. Motionless only when the seizures passed.

Scorpius didn't leave Rose's side. Refusing offers of food and only nibbling on bits and pieces when Al demanded it. He tried to stay awake but when sleep did finally manage to overtake him it was restless and full of terrors. He would wake in a cold sweat and feel around frantically for Rose. Because his dreams were always filled with her.

Her face. Her smile. Her voice and sweet laugh. The warmth of her presence next to him. How peaceful she looked sleeping. Her white-hot temper. The fire in her eyes when she was passionately mad. Memories of her would flash past, the good and the bad.

And it freaked him out. More than he cared to admit.

Oh how he wished he had done something, had urged Rose to just talk with him more insistently. Why had he let her just push him away? He had been there when the Healer said that they needed to out things out. Why had he just let things go on until she crashed?

He had felt her feelings of confusion and resentment. He had felt her pulling away from him more than normal. He had seen the dark circles and the haunted look in her eyes. He had noticed all of it but still had done nothing. And now here they sat, Rose pale and weak and barely breathing.

The worst thing, worse even then the seizures, was when Madam Pomfrey had to feed Rose to ensure that she got enough nutrients. Not trusting Scorpius wouldn't drown Rose by doing it wrong the Healer had to use magic to get the contents down. She'd inserted a magical tube into Rose's side, one that could easily be used when needed.

Even though it made him feel sick Scorpius had refused to leave. He insisted he stayed and since he couldn't go very far anyhow the Healers had relented. He sat and held Rose's hand through it all, whispering softly in his head that she would be alright, hoping even though he couldn't feel her that maybe she could still hear him.

He wasn't sure but when he was touching Rose Scorpius thought that maybe she breathed easier and he held onto that, even if it wasn't true.

It was nine o'clock now. Rose had gotten her 'dinner', Scorpius shivered to think of the slimy potion as food, few hours prior. She now lay in clean hospital robes, her hair magically braided away from her face, and her head propped up at a low angle against a fresh pillow.

They were the only ones in the wing that night, all the others having been forced to leave for their classes that morning and had not been allowed to return after dinner. Though there had been arguments Madam Pomfrey won out in the end and the gang had left but only after Pomfrey promised they could come check on Rose in the morning before their classes.

Mrs Weasley was in the Healer's office, as she had been for the past few hours, talking. Scorpius hadn't said much to Rose's mum since her arrival, not knowing what to say to the crying, slightly hysterical woman that was far from the lady Scorpius had met so many times.

Mr Weasley had shown up late the night of the first day, having been away for work or something, Scorpius wasn't sure. He had barged out of Madam Pomfrey's office, from where he had flooed in, and come dashing over to Rose's bedside, still in his Auror robes and looking quite winded.

He too was with his wife now, speaking to Healer Lynde about what they would need to do once Rose woke.

Rose stirred slightly in front of him, efficiently jolting him from his thoughts and he sat forward, his eyes both eager and weary, wondering if she was waking or having another seizure.

When she started to convulse and shake Scorpius felt his throat close up as emotions swelled to the surface. A small voice whispered, ever present in his ear, 'you could have prevented this. All this suffering is because of you.' But he pushed that all down; Rose needed him, he didn't have time for himself. He moved onto the bed next to her and gently held her head as he had been shown to.

Scorpius watched with despair as Rose jerked around, her hands clenched, knuckles turning white with the strength of her grip, her eyes squeezed tight, her body curling into itself just slightly, as though trying to protect itself from danger.

He forced himself not to think about what was causing these seizures.

He knew the answer, deep down. They were Bonded; that was a connection much deeper than anything Scorpius could begin to comprehend, he knew the barest of Rose's most primal feelings. He knew that whatever was happening, wherever her consciousness was at the moment, that she was in pain.

And it broke him.

"It's okay," He breathed softly, "you'll be okay."

~oOo~

Rose's POV

Hell. That must be where she was. There was nowhere else it could be.

Rose lay on a stone floor. He breath came out in short bursts as she tried not to cry.

It was too much.

How long had she been here? Was it hours? Months? Years? She couldn't be sure anymore.

The wrenching of memories from her head. Having them displayed in front of her again and again. Having them changed just so slightly until she didn't know what was real and what was fake. It was torture.

The memory of the first time she had meet Scorpius was playing again. Over and over it had swum past her vision; and over and over again Rose had to watch it, ever changing, ever horrible.

She saw herself, standing in a small wooden boat, Hogwarts behind her, the beach in front of her. She was young, the age all children are their first year, and standing there, in front of her, his hand held out for her to shake in greeting, in friendship, was Scorpius. His small face smiled somewhat sheepishly at her, his eyes hopeful, so full of life, and Rose watched as her own face contorted in indecision.

Rose sobbed miserably. She didn't think she could stand to see herself reject Scorpius one more time. To see her own lips, her own eyes, so cold for how young she was, move as she told him no.

The self-loathing came crashing down as she watched the memory again. Why? Why had she done what she had done? She knew the answer and she hated it. Because of her dad, because of his name, and her mother's name, and her uncle's name, because they were still to this day some of the most famous wizards and witches. And to some that sounded shallow, sounded wrong. She had turned down that boy's hand in friendship because of her family's past. Because of who they were supposed to be. But to Rose's small eleven-year-old brain there were only two things that she could have done in that moment; accept that hand of friendship and betray her family, betray everything her father had ever said to her about the Malfoy's, or turn it away and do what she was supposed to do.

It had seemed a simple decision then. She hadn't known this boy, he had meant nothing to her. Why would she have started a friendship with him and caused an uproar within her family? Turning him down had seemed so much simpler.

"WHY!" Rose screamed, her sobs choking the last of her word. "Why?"

She couldn't stand to see the image change. To see herself take his hand in friendship. To see what life could have been. To see all that could have been. She saw them working together on homework as first years. Encouraging each other during finals. She saw them holding hands during Hogsmeade weekends and spending summers at each other's houses. She could have been happy. Supported and loved. But that one decision, that stupid eleven-year-old's decision, had changed everything.

The scene changed, morphed into the summer of their fourth year. She hadn't thought about this day for so long. But there it was, the beautiful lush green canopy of trees below her, the wind blowing gently and warm, and the sun happily shining down. Exactly as she remembered. They were flying. Al, Malfoy, and herself. Flying over the forest behind Al's house. Everything was fine. Her and Malfoy were even getting along just a little more than normal. It had been a good day.

Then something happened. The memory changed into something it wasn't. Rose and Malfoy collided, Rose had moved too far to the right, she hit his broom, he lost control. He fell.

This simple, peaceful memory was now corrupt.

Rose clenched her eyes tight, crying, sobbing, pleading, as the vision played again.

He dropped. Al couldn't save him. Rose either.

"Please stop! STOP!"

It was no use. Malfoy's screams. His blood. His lifeless eyes haunted Rose. Drowned out any thought.

It was punishing her. Making her watch over and over things she had done. That time in the third year when she had laughed at Malfoy after he accidentally transfigured his feet into pots and tripped, hurting himself. When in the second year Malfoy had tried to make amends only to have Rose walk away without a word. When she had ignored him every time he did something she didn't like. Stupid things. Silly things. But mean and spiteful nonetheless. It forced her to watch all this, then showed her his death, in so many different ways.

Because he wasn't just dying. He was dying for her.

It was too much. She couldn't take it.

"No. No, no stop. Stop," Rose sobbed hopelessly, curling up onto her side.

Her heart ached. Her body felt torn apart. Her humanness. Her humanity couldn't take so much death. So much pain. So much of the same lifeless grey eyes looking up at her and knowing that they were lifeless because of her.

She couldn't take the guilt.

She couldn't.

"I'm sorry," She screamed. Sobbing. Hurting. Aching. "I'm so so sorry,"

And just as she thought she might die herself from it all; it was over. The influx of memories stopped.

Calming, soothing, and sly came the voice, "I think you've learned your lesson."

Rose was unaware of her faded consciousness. She was too relieved. But as she stared into the darkness, the image of Malfoy was still there. Ingrained into her mind too strongly for even the blackness to erase.

She let out a sob. It wasn't over. And it never would be.

This thing had left Rose with something. It had taught her a lesson. One she wished she had learned long ago.

~oOo~

Rose's POV II

Tears. There were tears in her eyes and they weren't even open yet. She didn't even know where she was and still, she was crying. But all she could feel was relief that she wasn't in that place anymore, that it was over. Rose didn't know how she knew it was over, she just did. The pain was gone, the loneliness was gone, the guilt... no, the guilt was still there, but she was out. Out of that place. Out of hell, and she could feel nothing but an overwhelming sense of relief at that.

Rose was disoriented, scared, and so very tired. She wanted very much to know where she was and what had happened.

Slowly, cautiously, Rose lifted her heavy eyelids, squinting before opening them completely when there was no blinding light of day. Instead, there was a dim, flickering glow of torches. Torches that were lighting up the stone walls of the hospital wing and a bit of the bed Rose was currently laying on.

A rustle, the soft sound of cloths brushing against skin sounded to her left and Rose suddenly became aware of a gentle weight on her left hand.

Rose's breath caught and suddenly her tears came faster, leaving tracks down her cheeks. Turning her head ever so slightly Rose saw who was sitting beside her.

Malfoy, tousle-haired, wrinkled clothes, and slightly red-eyed sat peacefully by her side, sleeping. His head bowed, his arms resting on his knees, and his warm callused hands clasped loosely around her own.

Rose took another sharp breath, then another, and another. Maybe it was the noise she was making, maybe it was her pain seeping through the bond, or maybe it was the way her hand suddenly clenched around his but in a moment Scorpius was lifting his head, his own hand tightening in hers and for the first time in days Rose was staring into blue-grey eyes that were so uncommonly filled with relief.

"Rose."

Rose couldn't stop it, the overwhelming wave of emotion crashed down and started pouring out of her eyes and she was suddenly sobbing, crying in a way she had never done before. Desperately, hopelessly, because that simple word, her name spoken in that soft whisper of relief and happiness, her name being spoken by this boy she had tried so hard to hate but just couldn't anymore was the breaking point for her.

Because even after everything, everything she had said, done, this boy, he still cared.

And when that boy moved closer and Rose found herself wrapped in his strong, warm embrace, his arms wrapped tightly, comfortingly around her, she didn't want to fight it anymore. She didn't want to be angry anymore. She didn't want to hate him anymore. Because she was tired, so so tired of fighting, of being angry and of hating someone that made it so bloody hard to hate.

"Shhh, Rose, you're alright, I got you. I'm not letting you go," His breath was warm on her neck and Rose buried deeper into his arms, pressing her face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent that was just so him... Scorpius.

She couldn't think about what this meant right now, she didn't want to think, she just wanted to stay there, in his arms his hand rubbing soothing circles up and down her back, and just... just be.

And as his soft words of comfort, his slow rocking, the gentle movements of his hand, and the rise and fall of his chest lulled Rose back into peace she said the one thing that couldn't wait to be said.

"I'm sorry, Scorpius, for everything."

She felt him pause, felt him stiffen with surprise but she was done. Rose was tired of fighting and talking. She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep. Because she was tired, and there in Scorpius's arms she didn't fear what would happen when she closed her eyes, didn't fear the darkness and pain that had been the past few days of her life. Because he took that pain and darkness away, whether he knew it or not.

And in that moment Rose trusted that he would hold her and keep the monsters at bay. For the first time, Rose trusted Scorpius to keep her safe and in her heart she knew, just knew that he would and that was why, after everything, Rose was able to sleep that night, peacefully, calmly in the arms of a boy she had once hated.