Chapter 3: All Dressed Up In A White Straitjacket or, I Can't Compete With All Your Damn Ideas

Rating: M mainly for language, and I can't discount any funny business later on

Disclaimer: I work with only what the infallible J.K. Rowling has given me.

It was not going to be a good day, Scorpius could tell that from the off.

He'd met Liv in the Room of Requirement the night before after sending her a note reading "RoR for a quickie", but instead of the ten minute romp he had been hoping for, she'd decided the summer had been too long for them to be apart and updated him on the agonisingly mundane details of her holiday until past two am.

Because of this, he'd completely forgotten to set his usual alarm and had woken up only ten minutes before Transfiguration was due to start.

Jumping out of bed, he made a beeline for the bathroom, hissing to the sleeping girl beside him, "Liv! Goddammit, get up!" only to have her mumble, "Free period" in response.

He groaned, and focused hard on a clean set of robes appearing at the foot of the bed. He haphazardly flung them on whilst attempting to brush his teeth.

Without saying goodbye, he dashed out of the room, muttering a Summoning charm for his books, quill and homework. Luckily, he made it to McGonagall's classroom and set his essay down on her desk mere seconds before she herself entered.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," she commented lightly as she passed him. She looked him up and down but made no remark as to his dishevelled appearance.

He took his seat next to Toby, self-consciously pulling a hand through his bedraggled hair.

"Good morning," McGonagall announced. "Today, we will be applying the theory that I trust you all read and reported for homework." She glanced at the Gryffindor girl in the third row. "Textbooks closed, Miss Lancaster."

The girl sheepishly stowed it back into her bag.

"Mate, you smell like sex," Toby said, making a face. Scorpius kicked his shin under the table.

The Professor flicked her wand towards the chalkboard, speaking the words as they formed behind her. "Untransfiguration." She focused her sharp eyes around the room. "What is the meaning of 'Untransfiguration'? Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

From the seat across him, Rose lowered her hand in disappointment.

He smirked. "Reverting something that has been previously Transfigured back into its original form."

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin."

Scorpius exchanged a smug grin with Toby.

"Now, can anyone tell me why we only study Untransfiguration at a N.E.W.T. level? Miss Weasley."

"Untransfiguration is considered both Transfiguration and a counter-spell. This simultaneous use of multiple branches of magic means successful spells can only be performed by witches or wizards trained at a sufficiently advanced level."

"Exactly. Ten points, Miss Weasley."

No one in class seemed surprised that their two Heads were the first to offer answers, and most were reluctant to compete.

McGonagall looked around the room, her gaze hardening as she realised perhaps not everyone in her class was quite up to the task. Still, it was only the first week.

She waved her wand, and a copper tin appeared in front of every seventh year. "This tin has already been Transfigured into what you see now. Using the incantation to evoke the traces of magic left from when it had last been Transfigured, can anyone hazard a guess to its previous form?"

She brightened slightly at a third hand that had cautiously raised near the back of the room. "Ah, yes, Mr. Abbott."

"Bronze?" he answered, hopefully.

Less than a second later came the quiet mutters of "Brass" from the two desks second from the front. There was a pause as each glared at the other for the intrusion.

"Brass is correct, Miss Weasley and Mr Malfoy." She turned her attention back to Brian Abbott. "Almost, Mr Abbott, however you overcomplicated the remaining element. The missing element was zinc, not tin and the many others that make up bronze."

"Mr Potter," she said, before she had turned her head to face him.

Next to Rose, Al audibly swallowed.

"Why is knowing the previous form of an object important?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes as Rose looked as if she was physically restraining herself from answering on her cousin's behalf. "Um…so that you can properly evoke the image of which to revert it back to?"

"Correct. Now, if everyone could do precisely that."

There were quiet groans and soft thuds as students cleared their desk spaces and prepared themselves for the long hour ahead.

Scorpius likewise turned his attention to the piece of metal on his desk. On paper, the task didn't seem too difficult, but he could tell it would take more than memorisation of a formula and simple incantation.

"Immutent Ipsa Retro," he muttered, familiarising himself with the spell. At his words, the tin shimmered slightly, but stayed as it was.

A swish left. A flick downwards. A clockwise circular motion of exactly three hundred degrees. He steeled himself.

He repeated the incantation, more loudly now, accompanying it with the strokes of his wand. The tin shimmered once again to the point where it looked like it had reverted to its brass form, but Scorpius could tell he had merely cloaked it in the image of what it had looked like previously.

"Immutent Ipsa Retro," he said again, taking extra care of the exact angle he was creating with his wand. With a tinkling sound, there was now a bronze tin sitting in front of him.

"Ten points, Mr Malfoy."

Scorpius looked up to see McGonagall surveying him from under her spectacles. He turned his head to his right, ready to cast the perfect smirk, only to see an equally bronzed tin sitting in front of the Head Girl.

His grin faded as McGonagall nodded appreciatively and awarded Gryffindor with ten additional points as well.

It was not much longer until both Toby and Albus had managed to Untransfigure their tins as well, along with a smattering of other students. As the Transfiguration Professor had rightly predicted, it was not a task that everybody could easily perform.

While the rest of the class struggled (or in Al and Toby's case, slept) Rose and Scorpius had been continuously muttering the incantation, their tins flashing as they rapidly changed form. It became immediately obvious that both were trying to outshine the other.

While McGonagall couldn't say that she was neither impressed nor entertained (for she was both) at the two Heads' antics, the high-speed fluorescence was beginning to hurt her wizened eyes.

"Miss Weasley, Mr Malfoy."

They paused mid flourish as they turned to look at their Headmistress. At the sound of their respective desk partner's names, Toby and Albus shot up in their seats.

"It has become clear to me that the both of you have achieved success in today's assignment. You may now cease."

Rather bashfully, the two lowered their wands.

Minerva checked her watch. Ten minutes to go. Thank Merlin.

"Christ, I could murder Westknight," Gen snapped as she sat down.

Rose looked up sympathetically at her friend. This was not the first time Genevieve had expressed this desire. "Ancient Runes was good, then?" she asked dryly.

Gen shook her head viciously, refusing to elaborate, and set her Potions textbook on the countertop with a loud bang.

"At least we're doing a practical today," Rose consoled. "You can keep your head and hands busy."

Gen grunted and sat with her knuckles pressed against her chin.

"Good morning," Professor Xavier said once the last few people had sat down. "As you all know, today will be a practical lesson. Please open your books to page seventy-two."

"The Wiggenweld potion," Rose breathed.

"Correct, Miss Weasley." Rose looked up at the sound of her name. "And what, may I ask, is the popular use of this particular brew?"

"It can be used as a cure for the Draught of Living Death," she replied.

"Two out of two."

In her periphery, she caught Scorpius dramatically rolling his eyes. Her smile brightened.

"As Miss Weasley rightly pointed out, the Wiggenweld potion can be used to cure the magically induced sleep, along with a number of other minor maladies. As such, it is a critical potion to learn if one wishes to pursue a career as, say, a Healer."

Rose sat up straighter.

"The ingredients and utensils can be found in the cupboard. You will have until the end of the period. Good luck."

It was a frantic race to the corner of the room.

Rose grabbed the salamander blood, lionfish spines and flobberworm mucus, setting them down on her workplace before heading back for a cauldron and honeywater. Scorpius rudely shoved past her as she was getting her final ingredient.

"Watch it," he spat.

"You watch it," she retorted.

This was routine.

Rose reached her table and set about adding the salamander blood. "Until it turns red," she recited to herself softly. If this was her first test of the year in pursuit of becoming a Healer, she refused to mess this up. She was so focused on the colour of her brew turning exactly the colour as said in the textbook, she didn't notice the blonde Slytherin until he was right in front of her.

"Don't mind if I borrow these, do you, Weasley?" he asked, carelessly, as he swiped a handful of lionfish spines from her countertop. Her entire face visibly tensed, and her eyes narrowed down to slits.

"Malfoy," she hissed. "Give those back."

Scorpius however, was already walking back to his table. "What are you going to do?" he asked, sparing a glance over to where Professor Xavier was tutting at Ruth Jordan's mould-coloured potion. "Tell on me?"

Stir until the potion turns orange.

She cursed under her breath, but kept stirring; she still had several stages left to go before she needed to add the lionfish anyway. She would recollect the ingredient as her potion was simmering.

"What did Malfoy want?" Gen asked, setting her ingredients down.

She hesitated; if she told Gen, she was sure to cause a scene.

"Nothing," she replied. "He was just being annoying, as usual."

She continued adding and stirring the salamander blood, following the instructions exactly.

Ten minutes later, she felt Gen leaning over her cauldron anxiously. "Does my potion look indigo to you?" she asked. "What the hell does 'indigo' mean, anyway? When was the last time you ever used 'indigo' to describe a colour?"

Rose laughed. "It looks fine to me," she answered, peering in. She checked the next instructions. "Hey, Gen, I'm gonna grab some lionfish spines. Watch my cauldron for me?"

Gen nodded, but looked suspicious. After all, when was the last time Rose Weasley hadn't begun her potion completely prepared?

Rose returned with the spines, and continued on with the elixir. She was just adding the Flobberworm mucus when the Potions Master broke the room's silence.

"Twenty minutes left, everyone. Mr Malfoy, if you're finished, may I have a quick word?"

Rose looked up in horror. How could he possibly be done already?

Impulsively, she turned towards his desk, seeing a small portion of the concoction already in a vial, the exact shade of green it was supposed to be. Scorpius caught her eye, and his mouth lifted up into a smirk.

He passed her desk and she began to stir, forcing herself to take her time. She would not mess this up.

"The instructions say yellow, Weasley, not vomit," the voice of self-righteousness said loftily as it headed back to its desk.

She bit down the retort on her tongue and added in more mucus. Feeling a pair of eyes burning in her periphery, she looked to her left to see Gen studying her intently.

"What?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Gen shook her head in wonder. "Zen, Weasley," she repeated. "Zen."

Scorpius' earlier prediction was right: he was not having a good day.

Although he had performed well in both Transfiguration and Potions, he was still sure something was off-piste. Usually when he felt off, he could always count on Weasley's red face and scathing comments as he riled her up to brighten his spirits, but try as he might, she was behaving exceedingly tolerantly of his unfriendly behaviour. And it really pissed him off that he didn't know why.

"Weasley's acting odd," he remarked to Tobias as they walked down the corridor that led them to their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"I hadn't noticed," Toby shrugged. "In what way?"

Scorpius raised a hand to rub at his hair. "She's being unprecedentedly tolerant," he said, voicing his previous thoughts.

He was sure snatching her lionfish spines and then insulting her brew during Potions would've prompted the usual curse or vicious insult, but no game. He hadn't had a chance to further explore his disquiet in Charms as they'd had a theory-based lesson, but when he'd ploughed past her before lunch, he'd only gotten a "Fuck you" from Genevieve Chang.

They entered the class to see that Rose was already there, seated up front with her feisty Eurasian friend.

Rather than sitting at the desk across from the pair, as per usual, Scorpius dropped his books onto the table directly behind them.

Tobias noticed this immediately, and by the looks of their stiffened backs, so did the two sitting in front of them. "What're you doing?" he asked, suspiciously.

Scorpius shrugged. "Can't think what you mean by that, mate."

Toby rolled his eyes, but let it slide. At this point, he was quickly using up today's quota of care.

"Afternoon, class," Professor Dolloway announced as he walked through the door. "It's a beautiful day for a practical, eh?"

He set his briefcase on the floor and sat down at his desk. "Right, we'll be practicing the Impediment Jinx non-verbally in pairs today. Since you need little guidance from me, I suggest you get right to it."

"Weasley," Scorpius hissed as the rest of the class began opening Confronting the Faceless. "I seem to have forgotten my textbook. Mind if I borrow yours?"

"What do you want, Malfoy."

"Well, you seemed so generous in Potions earlier, I thought I might ask if you wouldn't mind repeating the favour."

Genevieve turned to face him, her jaw tensing; he gave her a winning smile in response.

"There are extra books in the cupboard at the back," Rose said, pulling Genevieve back around.

Scorpius narrowed his eyes. Something was definitely up.

"Come on." Rose stood up. "We'd better get to practicing."

Scorpius followed suit. "Ready, mate?"

Toby only shook his head in exasperation, deciding wisely that the best idea would be to work on the opposite end of the room to her. Scorpius, however, had other ideas. "This way," he said, leading them directly to where Rose and Genevieve were setting up their cushions.

Rose's eye began to twitch as she noticed their arrival, but said nothing.

There was a loud clearing of the throat. The class directed their gaze to see their Professor standing up. "I had to rush down here from the seventh floor, and as such didn't get a chance to use the restroom." His eyes flicked around the room. "Carry on practicing, but if anything…out of the ordinary happens, I will know." He strode towards the door, but turned around at the last second. "Anything," he repeated. "I will know."

As soon as the door had closed behind their teacher, Scorpius seized his chance.

"Weasley, has anyone ever told you that your face looks like it caught fire and someone tried to put it out with a fork?"

"Sod off, Malfoy," Genevieve sniped instantly. "Practice your fucking jinx."

Rose, as it was becoming infuriatingly usual, glared at him, but said nothing.

After a quick look at her partner, she raised her wand, but with a rapid Banishing spell, the safety cushion on the floor was flung to the opposite end of the room.

She halted, her mouth opening in intense displeasure as she turned slowly to face its enchanter; he only looked curiously up at the ceiling.

"What the fuck, Malfoy?" Genevieve snarled. It was evident that she had decided to compensate for Rose's apathy by cursing at him at every opportunity.

"Not worth it, Gen," Rose quietly murmured.

As Rose huffed and Accio'd back her cushion, Toby turned on his friend, his arms crossed and his expression one of intense aggravation. "Why are you trying so hard to rile her up?"

It was a good question. Because it's fun?

In truth, Scorpius didn't know exactly why he was so intent on getting under her skin. It wasn't because she was a significant part of his life - that wasn't it - but Scorpius didn't like it when the status quo was changed. And Rose Weasley, in all of her infuriating forbearance, had definitely changed it. Worse, Scorpius had no idea why after six years she had even decided to.

"Let's just practice, okay?"

Scorpius, distracted by Rose raising her arm again, failed to respond.

In a flash, the cushion had smacked her straight across the face. When it fell onto the floor, it exposed the vein that was beginning to throb dangerously at her temple.

"Bloody hell, Scorp," Toby was muttering. "For Merlin's sake, leave her alone."

Any minute now.

"Scorpius."

He knew there was only one thing left before she exploded.

With a smirk, he flicked his wand so the cushion shot up from the floor and straight into Genevieve's face.

He was right.

Rose turned on him, inflamed. "Do you not have anything better to do?" she screeched, hackles rising. "Is it so fucking important to you to rub me up the wrong way?"

"Rose, Dolloway'll be coming back any minute." Genevieve, her role now reversed, began to tug on her best friend's arm. Rose ignored her, her whole body shaking.

"Don't, for a second, think that you are important to me in any way, shape or form," Scorpius spat back. "I was only wondering what happened over the summer to turn you into a soulless, mindless drone."

With a look that clearly said she had no control over what she was doing, Rose Weasley opened her mouth in utter incense. "Stupefy!"

Scorpius, who was expecting - and hoping - for such a reaction, quickly blocked it with a non-verbal Shield spell. The force of her anger, however, projected him a few feet back.

"Finally." Scorpius' face was alight with malice. "This 'holier than thou' bullshit was getting really old."

Rose looked so angry that Scorpius dimly noticed the rest of the class had backed up against the walls of the classroom, some even shielding themselves with cushions.

"Why you insufferable, evil-" Instead of finishing her sentence, she held up her wand to cast another spell.

"Miss Weasley!"

The Weasley in question froze, as if she had finally noticed the gravity of what she was doing.

"Would you care to explain to me why you look as if you are about to curse Mr Malfoy?"

She lowered her wand, attempting to calm herself down through a series of deep breaths.

"He provoked her, Professor," Al interjected, stepping forward.

"I know that, Mr Potter," Dolloway replied. "I could hear the two of them from the other end of the corridor." He turned his attention back to his two seething students. "Verbal provocation, however, does not justify the cursing of another student. Detention this evening for the both of you."

Rose opened her mouth in protest, but closed it in defeat when she caught sight of her Professor's face.

Mercifully, the bell rang then, signalling the end of the school day. The vast majority of the class escaped before their teacher had a chance to dismiss them.

"Seven o'clock," the Defence Professor said, sternly, before he too left.

"See you then," Scorpius said, his expression unreadable. He really hadn't planned this out far enough to realise that this was the only circumstance his undertaking could lead to.

Nevertheless, his exterior remained cool as he preceded Tobias out of the room and back to their dorm.

"Al, you absolute idiot, why didn't you help me?" Gen asked angrily the minute Rose had left for her dorm to write a letter to the Headmistress.

He shrugged. "It was a long time coming. Anyway, I was betting on Rose to win."

Gen savagely sat down on the sofa, crossing her arms. "Fucking prick," she said in a vicious undertone. "Goddamn fucking prick."

Dear Professor McGonagall,

I regret to inform you that due to an unfortunate altercation with Scorpius Malfoy during Defence Against the Dark Arts today, I have been compelled to attend detention at seven o'clock this evening. However, because this coincides with my tutoring session with Wilhelm, I was hoping you could ask Professor Dolloway if I might sit my detention tomorrow night instead.

Best wishes,

Rose Weasley

Miss Weasley,

I have spoken to Professor Dolloway and impressed upon him the importance of your tutoring session with Mr Greengrass tonight, and as such, he has permitted you to sit the detention tomorrow night instead. Mr Malfoy regretfully is otherwise engaged that night, so he will sit the detention tonight as originally planned.

Regards,

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

So it was at six forty five on Friday night that Rose exited the Great Hall and made her way up to her third floor Defence classroom to sit her detention. The thought of it still made her fume with anger. Fortunately, she and Scorpius had shared only two classes that day, and not a word was exchanged between them. Perhaps his detention was unspeakably awful and he was ready to atone for his crimes.

It seemed unlikely.

At least the scrubbing - for she was sure that she would spend the next few hours relegated to the Trophy Room - might help her to take her mind off her intolerable co-Head and might even serve as some quasi-cathartic exercise. Her next few hours alone had potential.

Therefore, when she reached the door to her classroom, she stopped in surprise when her eyes fell upon the person already seated there.

"Hey," she said in surprise.

The Ravenclaw sprawled at his desk looked up at the sound of her voice, and hastened to sit up straighter. "Hey yourself."

She walked in and took a seat much more demurely next to him. "So," she asked. "What've they got you in for? Christian, right?"

He grinned. "Goldstein. I thought Dolloway might not notice if I missed the first Defence class of the semester."

Rose pulled an unsympathetic face. "You're a Ravenclaw, right?" she asked, dryly.

He grinned. "So what's the Head Girl doing in here, then?"

She grimaced. "I uh….got into a rather public fight with Malfoy. Dolloway sentenced us both to an evening's detention."

"I heard," Christian said, a small smile working its way onto his face. "Well, I mean, everyone knows about it by now." He checked his watch. "He's late."

Rose took off her robes, folding them over the back of her chair. "He's not coming. He did his yesterday - I had a thing I couldn't miss."

"A lucky coincidence."

Rose was just about to comment back when the Professor walked into the room.

"Miss Weasley, Mr Goldstein. Mr Filch is on his way to take you down to the Trophy Room where you'll be polishing awards and various candelabra." He grinned at their dismayed expressions. "They've gotten quite dusty over the summer, I'm afraid."

Sudden panting at the door alerted his attention. "Ah, Mr Filch! They're all yours."

Rose and Christian raised themselves out of their seats and prepared to follow the old caretaker down the hall when they were stopped at the door. "Wands, please," Dolloway said, holding out his hands. The look shared between the two offenders clearly displayed that they were hoping they could sneak out of the door before he had noticed. Reluctantly, they surrendered them.

"Thank you."

Filch led them down the corridor towards the Trophy Room, muttering about "criminals" and "delinquents" under his breath. "Here," he said roughly, gesturing towards the door. "I'll be back to check on you at the end of the two hours, so those trophies better shine."

Rose sighed but followed Christian into the room, rolling up her sleeves and preparing for the long night ahead.

"I heard about your fight with Rose Weasley."

Scorpius looked up in surprise - and slight irritation - at the young girl who was standing at his table in the library. He was about to not-so-politely tell her to bugger off, until he noticed the Potions textbooks in her arms.

She lowered them onto the table and stuck out her hand. "Juliette Bexley."

After a moment's hesitation, he shook it and gestured for her to sit down.

"So," he said. "You're having some trouble with Potions?"

"Duh," she replied. "That's why you're here."

Scorpius bit back his retort, remembering that this was a thirteen year old, and rubbed his temple. "What is it exactly that you find difficult about Potions?"

She considered. "Well, apart from the fact that Xavier-" Scorpius resisted the urge to insist she prefaced it with 'Professor', "-says I don't do a great job of writing essays, I have trouble with the timing and ageing when I'm brewing. And apparently I don't have the best stirring skills."

"So…everything."

She glared at him. "No, my weighing is flawless."

Scorpius didn't know whether to smirk or sigh. He went with a combination.

"Right, well, do you have anything I can help you with here? If you want to practice brewing, we'll have to go down to the Potions classroom."

"I have an essay due on Monday on the history, effects and dangers of the Girding Potion."

"Have you started?"

She nodded, and pulled it out of her bag.

Scorpius skimmed it. Xavier was right; her write-up skills needed work.

"Okay," he said, putting it down. "The bad news is, you need help. The good news is, you've got me."

His tutee gave him some semblance of a smile, and pulled out her quill and ink. She poised her hand on top of the parchment.

"No, no," Scorpius said, reaching for it. "Get a fresh one."

She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Scorpius grimaced at her, and nodded solemnly.

She sighed but did as she was told.

"We're not going to be writing just yet," Scorpius said, resting his elbows on the table. "You need to learn how to plan and execute."

She blinked.

He picked up her original draft. "Look here: the introduction to the Girding Potion is fine, but then you mention one effect of it before going straight into describing its history."

He plucked an old scrap from his satchel and grabbed her quill. "Try it like this."

She watched as he scribbed a basic plan on the parchment. "Our Professor didn't say anything about an evaluation," Juliette said, uncertainly.

Scorpius pointedly exhaled. "Well, I'm your makeshift Professor now, and I say you should do an evaluation."

"You're bossy," she decided.

"You're annoying."

She frowned at him.

"Bullet points, smart-ass," Scorpius said, tapping the parchment. "Let's see what you know."

"You and Malfoy really have it in for each other, don't you?"

Rose stopped scrubbing at Gilderoy Lockhart's "Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile" trophy to look at him. "Yeah," she said. "I suppose we do."

"How'd you two start fighting anyway?"

"We're always fighting," she said, coyly.

"Why? I mean, besides the fact that he's a massive prick."

She grinned, and resumed polishing. "I guess when you're as competitive as we are, always fighting for first place, there's collateral that comes with it."

"Maybe you intimidate him."

"Why would I intimidate him?" Rose asked dubiously, fixing her sleeve as it fell.

Christian shrugged. "You're smart, beautiful, ambitious. You're miles above everyone here."

Rose blushed despite herself. "That's not true," she said, modestly.

Christian shuffled over to where she was sitting and resumed polishing the Quidditch trophies in a closer proximity. "I heard you made Quidditch team too."

Rose was taken aback by his flattery. She wasn't used to someone being so complimentary of her. In all aspects, she dimly registered. "I only tried out for a reserve position."

"Even so. Your cousin's hard to please, so the rumour goes."

"Al? Yeah, I guess he can be pretty tough." She paused. "Do you play?"

He shook his head. "I used to, but I took a pretty bad fall two years ago in the finals against Slytherin. I've never been as good since then."

"Sorry."

He waved it off. "It's fine. I uh…I've found other hobbies." He looked eager to change the subject. "So, what exactly were you two fighting about this time?"

She looked reluctant to answer. "You know, I'm not sure, exactly," she confessed. "He'd been pestering me all day, trying to rile me up. It worked," she admitted.

"Well, he sounds like a bag of dicks."

She laughed. "Yeah, he is. Listen, I'd rather not talk about Malfoy."

He nodded understandingly, and peered over at her trophy. "So, Lockhart. Talk about a total nutcase, huh?"

"Why do you guys fight so much anyway?"

Scorpius paused his perusal of the third year Potions syllabus.

"What?"

"You and Rose. Do you like her or something?"

"Focus on your essay."

"So you do?"

He ran a hand down his face, tiredly. "No, I do not like her. This look like a therapy session to you or something?"

Juliette shrugged. "My mum always told me that when a boy likes a girl, he's deliberately mean to her."

"You shouldn't always listen to your mum," Scorpius griped. "This had better be the best essay I've ever read."

The young girl rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I thought you have a girlfriend."

"She's not exactly my girlfriend," Scorpius replied without thinking. "Ugh, stop talking to me. I swear, I'm going to ask Xavier if I can resign."

"But people see you two going into the Come-and-Go room all the time. How can she not be your girlfriend? Are you doing grown-up things in there?"

Scorpius rested his face in his hands. His voice came out muffled. "She doesn't have to be my girlfriend for us to do…grown-up things. Last warning, kid."

Juliette sighed dramatically and held up her parchment. "Is this better?"

Scorpius raised his head out of his hands and scanned it. He had to admit, her essay was already miles better just from his basic advice. "Yes."

"Good."

He glanced at his watch. "Alright, we only have five minutes left." He took her planning sheet and checked over to make sure she'd covered all the points and-

"Oi."

Juliette looked up mid-word. "What?"

"The first disaster due to an overdose was in '81, not '82."

She read over her words, and then checked in the textbook. "I didn't see you check in here," she said, her brow furrowed.

Scorpius shook his head, carefully editing through the rest.

"You just remembered that?" Juliette asked in surprise.

He nonchalantly nodded.

"Wow," she said in awe. "You must be really good at Potions."

He spared her a glance, smirking. "Duh. Alright, everything else looks good. If you need me to scan it over quickly after you've written it, just come and find me in the Great Hall, okay?"

"To see you?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah."

She nodded, slowly. "Um..okay. Sure. Thanks."

He stood up and slung his bag over his back. "So, same time next week?"

She got up too, cradling her books and parchment in her arms. "Yeah. Thanks, Scorpius."

He gave what she thought might've passed for a smile, and then he was gone.

"So, you have other hobbies? Like what?"

Christian appeared to be hiding a blush. "I joined the choir about a term after my Quidditch career ended, and I've been doing it ever since."

"Choir?" Rose asked. "Like, the students who sing at the celebratory feasts and stuff? With the um…toads?"

"Yeah," Christian said, pressing his lips together to hide his smile. "Although we're trying to get rid of the toads. You know, give the choir a more modern feel."

Given that the only songs Rose had ever heard the choir perform appeared to be The Greatest Hits of the Seventeenth Century, she thought perhaps the removal of the toads was inconsequential, but said nothing.

"Do you have any hobbies?"

Rose stood up to put the polished insignia back into its place on the shelf. "I'm not really in any clubs or anything," she confessed. "But I do volunteer at the Hospital Wing."

"Well, I think any treatment from you would be worth the injury," Christian winked.

Rose laughed, but then her expression soured slightly. "Well, you have a fifty-fifty chance between me and Malfoy, so, you might want to think twice before you deliberately break your leg or something."

"It's just you two?"

She shrugged. "Madam Pomfrey would only accept seventh years with Outstandings in Herbology, Potions, Charms, Defence and Transfiguration, along with a letter of recommendation from Professor McGonagall. Mainly since this is the first year volunteering became an option."

Christian nodded sagely. "Ah, well that explains why it's just you and your bestie."

"Well, that and the fact that most people would rather not spend their free time helping out in the Hospital Wing, I suppose."

"Point taken." He wiped his brow. "Merlin, how many trophies does this room have?"

"We're almost done," Rose pointed out. "Only half an hour to go."

Christian brightened. "The company's not so bad, anyway."

Rose smiled. "It definitely makes it a whole lot more bearable."

They carried on working in mostly comfortable silence, with the occasional question-and-answer or casual comment on the absurdity of some of the awards, and soon enough, Filch was standing at the door, holding up a lantern.

"Detention's over," he said, gruffly. "Get out of here."

The two seventh years hurriedly got to their feet and scrambled for the door.

"Goodnight, Mr Filch," Rose said, quietly as she passed.

The flicker in his eyes made Rose sure that he had heard her, but he showed no response.

Their wands had been left on Professor Dolloway's desk; they lit them for the trek up the staircases and back to their respective Common Rooms.

"Despite the circumstances, I had a really nice time with you tonight," Christian said, as they reached the fourth floor landing. "Really."

Rose met his cheery expression, and noted how easy a person he was to engage with. Not like everyone she knew. "I had fun too," she said. "Well, I mean, it wasn't exactly 'fun', but, you know."

He nodded, grinning. "Yeah, I know." He glanced to his right. "Well, this is me."

Rose stuck out her hand, failing to see Christian's slightly disappointed look. "Goodnight, Christian. Maybe we'll have detention together some other time."

He recovered himself, and twinkled at her. "Maybe. Night, Rose."

As he reached the bronze knocker, he looked back at her once more, thrilled to see that she too had turned around. "Rose," he said again, by means of a farewell.

"Christian."

Rose continued up the stairs, in a good mood despite her first detention since she and Scorpius had used Fire Crabs as ammunition during a heated argument in a Care of Magical Creatures class at the end of fifth year.

"Bibbity-Bobbity-Boo," she said to the Fat Lady's portrait as she reached Gryffindor Tower.

Al and Gen were sitting by the fireplace when she arrived, the former casually catching and throwing his ink pot, while the latter complained that the movement in her periphery was making doing her Ancient Runes homework impossible.

"How was detention?" Gen asked, waving to her as she sat down in-between them.

"Good," Rose said. "Better than expected."

"Detention, good?" Al said in disbelief. "The only 'good' detention I had was when Eliza Davies and I were forced to re-shelve the Potions supply room. Suffice it to say, we didn't do much re-shelving." He looked at his cousin in amazement. "Were you doing anything naughty, Rose?"

She waved him off. "Christian and I were just having a nice conversation is all."

"Goldstein?" Gen asked, her eyes widening. "The singing, dreamy one?"

"The very same."

Gen yawned and stood up, stretching. "Well, I'm off to bed. I've had an exhausting day, what with all the Weasley versus Malfoy crap going on."

The two watched her disappear, and then Al got to his feet as well, tucking the ink pot back into his bag. "Are you heading up soon, too?"

She nodded, getting slowly to her feet, and hugged her cousin goodnight. "See you tomorrow."

"Night, Rosie."

As she walked up the staircase and joined Gen in their darkened room, she realised that she had an answer to her speculation two nights before: their impasse had not, in fact, lasted another day.

A/N:

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Just a heads up that I might not be keeping to the weekly updates - at least for next week - so don't worry if the next chapter is posted a little later than expected. Chapter titles come from Shinedown's I'm Not Alright and Motion City Soundtrack's Last Night.

~ Rach