Chapter 7: Where Did The Party Go? or, Things Happened In Half-Time

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.

"Upwards—no, downwards swirl," Will muttered quietly to himself as he rested his forearm on the table. "Downwards." He repeated the motion again, his face screwing up in concentration as he consulted his textbook.

Rose smiled, even as her wand arm grew tired from being held upright. She leaned over and folded the book shut. "You know the theory, Will," she said, consolingly. "You just need the confidence to apply it."

He sighed, shaking his hand as if that might somehow help. "Expelliarmus!" he whispered, his eyes fixed on Rose's unmoving wand.

He bit his lip, his eyes moving quickly back to his now closed textbook.

His tutor demonstrated the move, noting with bemusement Will's obvious infuriation at having seen the charm executed so easily. Will glared at his own wand now lying a scant foot away as if it had caused him some great personal injustice.

Rose hesitated, then folded her arms on the table and leant forward. "I think we might need to consider a change in tactic," she said, thoughtfully. "Or maybe just a change in scene. What do you say to finding an empty classroom?"

Will gave her a small smile before his eyebrows furrowed, perplexed. "Um…I think that guy over there is trying to get your attention."

"Huh?" Rose looked up, brushing her hair away from eyes and following Will's gaze.

Her face brightened as Christian came into view, smiling sheepishly as he peeked at her from behind the bookcases.

For all that she could feel her facial muscles pulling up in response to seeing her boyfriend, she couldn't help but notice something else; that feeling of anticipation in her stomach, the slight giddiness that still accompanied the feeling of newness was suddenly offensively absent.

"Congratulations," came the quiet voice from beside her.

Rose blinked and broke the eye contact, shifting uncomfortably in her chair as she looked down at her tutee. "What? Oh, thanks."

Will nodded a few times. "He's really nice. We uh…we do choir together."

Rose pressed her lips together to keep herself from smiling. She wasn't the type to judge others so quickly, but still she couldn't help but be completely unsurprised that Will had managed to find himself a member of the Toad Choir. "Do you?"

"He talks about you sometimes," Will continued, the tips of his ears reddening. "You know, just little things." He paused, tapping his wand lightly against the table. "He thinks the world of you."

Rose bit her lip. "I know."

Will looked up at her, and she quickly regretted her less-than-encouraging tone.

She swept some hair out of her face and cleared her throat. "Are you ready to go?"

Scorpius was very rarely honest with himself. Rather, he pushed any honest inclinations he had so far down that he no longer appeared to have immediate access to them.

Still, for someone who so arrogantly masked his disinterest in just about everything, even he couldn't shake the fact that he was very much dreading the night ahead.

He left for his patrols session ten minutes early, and whilst with Rose Weasley he realised that this simply added to their excruciating time together, he was quite confident that Albus was not the early type. He wondered what he should say, what he should open with.

It was easier with her, he contemplated as he climbed his way to the fifth floor. It was easier with an established repartee, a sort of foundation for what he supposed to say, or perhaps more accurately, what he wasn't supposed to. He didn't know where the line with Albus Potter was drawn, but he wouldn't be sardonically inquiring into his sex life as he did his cousin.

When nine o'clock arrived and Albus had not, Scorpius couldn't decide if he was more satisfied or annoyed.

The skidding of feet from the adjacent corridor alerted him, though he kept his face impassive as Albus appeared around the corner, walking at a deliberately leisurely pace.

Scorpius's face retained its unimpressed expression. "You're-"

Albus held up his watch, tapping it. "Not late. You might say that I'm ten seconds early, actually."

"I actually wouldn't say that," Scorpius replied, scathingly, feeling a hand into his robes for his wand. "Though I can't say I'm surprised that you haven't yet mastered the concept of time."

Albus rolled his eyes, taking out his own wand and striding ahead. "Let's just get this over with."

"So you can get back to whatever terribly important activity it was that you were engaged in before arriving?" Scorpius said from behind him.

Albus threw him a look, but his lack of reply made Scorpius curious as to just what he had pulled his patrols partner away from.

Al hadn't actually planned on being late. Not that he had been late, technically.

But he had, as Scorpius had inadvertently surmised, been engaged in the very important activity that was attempting to make some sense over what had happened between him and his best friend a little less than a week before.

He was rather hoping the two of them could ignore it and take the easy way out, but it appeared Gen wasn't taking that particular route. In fact, her skirting looks and poorly warranted departures were really getting on his nerves. Dashed was his optimism that they could act as two mature adults about the whole thing. (And he had only hidden behind that pillar because she had started it.)

He had only just left his room and was lounging by the fireplace before his patrols when Gen had appeared at the bottom of the staircase, hovering in his periphery. She had gulped upon seeing him, and Al's irritation had flared when he realised that she'd attempted to sneak past him up to her room without so much as a "Hello".

He'd straightened up and lifted a cautious hand in greeting. "Hey."

She seemed to have sighed. "Hey."

"Gen-" he had started, then bitten his lip. "I think we need to talk."

"I thought you might say that," she'd said, smiling ruefully.

"And while we're at it," he'd continued with growing confidence, patting the spot on the sofa next to him. "We should probably talk about Hogsmeade too."

Gen had pushed a strand of hair away from her face and nodded. "Yeah."

"Did you really think that blindfolding me was completely necessary?" Rose asked, laughing as she allowed Christian to lead her down the corridor.

"Well," Christian replied, his voice pleased. "I suppose I could've gone with a slightly less invasive idea, but — watch out for the turn — where would be the fun in that?"

"Where indeed," Rose said, reaching out her free hand to touch at the walls.

"Don't look yet, we're almost there."

"Not looking."

"Hold on, wait, take this last turn — there are two steps down, that's it — and….presto!"

Rose reached up to untie the piece of cloth covering her eyes and, upon seeing the sight before her, held up her hand to her mouth in amazement. "Oh, Christian."

He turned away from the beautifully set table for two and back towards Rose. "Do you like it?"

She tugged on the hand closest to her, pulling him in. "I love it."

He grinned beatifically, leading her towards the table and drawing out a chair for her to sit. "I had to temporarily mask the smell of the food with a charm so it wouldn't spoil the surprise."

Upon looking closer at the table, Rose gasped in astonishment. "Is that Chinese food?"

Christian nodded bashfully. "You told me it was your favourite, so I uh…I got it."

It took Rose almost all of her willpower to resist Awwing as she took in the entire scene. As she looked around, she noticed the modest desert cart slightly off to the side. "That's not…banoffee pie?"

He smiled again, and shrugged. "I have a good memory."

Rose only shook her head in wonder, resting her chin in her palm as she watched Christian ladle out noodle soup. She suddenly felt obscenely guilty that she hadn't even thought to ask Christian his favourite food. Or perhaps she had, but maybe she had forgotten. The idea made her feel even more crestfallen.

"How does your mum know how to cook Chinese food anyway?" Christian asked, shaking her out of her musing. "Duck?"

She nodded gratefully, holding up her plate. "Mum's very um…ambitious when it comes to food. All things, really," she said, chuckling. "But she's not a great cook."

Christian's eyes widened. "She's not? Huh, I'd always imagined she would be, you know, her being a genius and all that."

Rose shook her head, still smiling. "She's awfully stubborn. She must know she's not very good, but she insists." She messed around with her chopsticks for a bit before using them to clamp onto a piece of duck. "Anyway, dad used to take us to get takeout from a store nearby and tell mum it was to save her from doing extra work."

"Smart man," Christian laughed, using his spoon and fork to scoop up some duck as well. "How was tutoring?"

Rose smiled, poking about for some dumplings. "Not bad, he's making progress."

"I recognise him," Christian said, thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how though."

Immediately, Rose's mind began whirring. She could tell him exactly how he knew Will and regret it for the next three hundred years, or she could shrug and say, Huh, No Idea.

She resigned herself to her fate, her voice straining almost imperceptibly as she said hastily, "You do choir together."

Christian clapped his hands together quickly. "Ah! Right, of course."

Then, to her utter surprise, he grinned and said, "You look like an absolute pro with those chopsticks. Teach me?"

Laughing out loud, Rose held up her own chopsticks, and directed them at the pair he had abandoned on the table. "It's all about anchoring your thumb and index finger, see?"

"Do you always walk this slowly?"

Al shot Scorpius a withering look. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought I signed up for a patrols session, not the London fucking Marathon."

"Well, you'd be equally useless here or there."

"Oh, get off your fucking high horse," Al snapped, acidly, levelling his gaze at Scorpius. "It's your own bloody fault we're stuck together, anyway."

"My fault?" Scorpius pointed his wand accusingly in Albus' face. "I had Head Boy duties to take care of, what's your excuse?"

"If you must know," Al said, indignantly. "I was talking to McGonagall about Quidditch matters."

"Has she finally worked up the nerve to tell you that you fly like a headless chicken?"

Al snorted, unperturbed. "Tell that to my one-seventy win."

Scorpius' lip curled into a sneer. "Please, you only played for about ten shitty minutes as it was."

"Oh, give me a fucking break, Malfoy, I-" Al broke off as he cocked his ear in the direction where they could both hear two animated male voices. "Oh, thank Merlin," he said. "Civilisation."

The two of them broke into a fast walk, each trying to appear the less ridiculous as they sped towards the source of the noise.

"I'm telling you," one of the boys was saying emphatically to his companion, "McFarlan torched that guy with the Chelmondiston Charge, he brought on a whole new dynamic, I swear-"

"Nah, mate," the other boy replied, shaking his head with disdain as Al and Scorpius turned the corner. "He punched the Quaffle, see, it's not the Charge, it's called something else, but I forget-"

"It's called the Dionysus Dive."

The two young boys turned to look at the two voices who had spoken in unison.

The boy who had spoken first shrugged. "I mean, you two would know, you're the Captains, I guess."

Scorpius crossed his arms. "You guessed right. Now, it was curfew almost an hour ago, get on back to your Common Room."

The two Ravenclaws trudged off, and, before they had disappeared from sight, had already started arguing again.

"Brainless," Scorpius muttered, breaking into a walk.

"Idiots," Al agreed before he had time to think about it.

Scorpius stilled for a moment, but then began walking again, oblivious to the perplexed look on Al's face.

It must've been a record, Rose thought rather miserably. She thought she might be an optimist, give it maybe twenty minutes.

He hadn't even lasted fifteen.

She struggled to tune back in to what Christian was telling her, lifting her eyebrows and nodding in intrigue as her hopefulness was grounded to pieces inside her.

"…and the trouble is, it's hard to get people to relate to the songs when most of them are sung in Latin, right? So I'm thinking…."

It was almost frustrating, she continued to reflect in annoyance, that Christian was such a good conversationalist when it came to talking about, well, anything other than music, but then plummeted down quicker than she could say "Toad Choir" (which Christian numerously but patiently corrected her was actually called the "Frog Choir") the moment the subject was dredged up.

"Say," she blurted out quickly, causing Christian to drop the dumpling he had trapped between his chopsticks back into his soup - though it was perhaps due to the fact that he had not yet mastered the art of the chopstick - "Do you think you might ever get back into playing Quidditch again?"

Christian's face turned blank in surprise, but he recovered quickly. "Quidditch? I don't think so." He smiled at her. "The hole that was created after my accident has been more than filled, I think. Besides," He reached his free hand forward to take hers. "I wouldn't want to face off against you on the Quidditch pitch, not after watching you during that last match!"

Rose laughed lightly, ladling out some fried rice as Christian continued to look at her, his face colouring slightly.

"You know, uh," he said, sheepishly, and at his change in tone, Rose looked up in interest, "My friends were kinda shocked when they found out we were dating."

Rose's eyes lifted up in question. "Really? What for?"

Christian shrugged, reddening further. "Oh, you know, it's just they couldn't believe that I managed to get a date with you, and then we were together so soon and everything, when you're so, you know..." He coughed uncomfortably. "You."

Against her will, she too was blushing. "Oh, no, Christian, don't be ridiculous, I'm really not as special as all that-"

"But you are!" Christian said, passionately, putting his fork back down in preparation. "You're top of the class in almost everything, and everyone knows you're going to do such incredible things after we graduate, and you're so, so beautiful-"

"Christian-" Rose tried, feeling almost helpless and scrounging around in her brain to try and remember if Nate had ever had an outburst like this-

"And now you're an incredible Quidditch player as well, and…" He cast her a curious look. "Do you really not know this?"

"Of course not!" Rose said, shaking her head. "I never thought about any of it like that. I don't think most of that is true, anyway."

Christian exhaled, pressing his lips together and then quickly digging back into his food.

"Hey," Rose said, softly, lowering her head to catch his gaze. "I think you're pretty great too."

"You do?"

She nodded ardently. "I mean, you're so passionate about your music and your…choir, and it sounds like you could make a great future out of that."

Christian laughed, looking far more at ease. "Well, perhaps if we ever manage to crawl out of the seventeenth century." He brightened. "You know what I was thinking? If we modernise, who's to say that the Start of Term Feast and Halloween should be our only performances? I was going to try and persuade Flitwick to take on some Christmas tunes, or you know, maybe a little something after exams to celebrate?"

Rose was back to nodding and smiling, though she had the distressing revelation that she was quickly beginning to lose her appetite.

You're fighting a losing battle, Weasley.

She started at the sudden voice in her head, mercifully in conjunction with Christian who, upon seemingly having reached a rather animated point in his monologue, raised a hand towards her, saying "Exactly!" before continuing on.

She had eaten an awful lot of dumplings though; that was surely the culprit for her sudden lack of interest in the food before her.

"Hell, we could completely spice up Quidditch games, you know, like they do in America with their football…"

You haven't noticed the way he looks at that thing? I wouldn't be surprised if he unzipped his pants and pulled out his-

"Football games?" she asked abruptly, cursing her traitorous brain for having thoughts that under no circumstance it should be having.

"Yes, exactly! I was thinking, actually, that brings me on to my next idea. Now, stay with me on this…half-time shows!"

Sometimes perpetuating the image of the decisively uncaring was exhausting.

Usually it came to Scorpius naturally, which could be construed as an unfortunate testament to his character, but sometimes - on what Scorpius deemed to be the very rare occasion - he simply couldn't be fucked.

At least, this was the excuse he was currently relying on to justify his behaviour. "McFarlan doesn't even know how to execute a Charge without falling off his broom."

"It would've been useful though, since he broke all of his knuckles punching the ball," Albus said, chortling. "Though it was Montoya's fault for bashing the ruddy thing at him so hard."

Scorpius nodded in agreement. "See, this is why Beaters shouldn't handle Quaffles."

"Nah." Albus pointed a finger in his direction. "I give complete props to Rosie for her Quaffle handling during the match."

Scorpius grunted, and to his surprise, Albus only laughed again.

Scorpius wasn't sure if he was going to regret what he said next, but against his better judgement, he said it anyway. "Hey, look, I've been at the wrong end of a Beater's bat too, so I know it's a total bitch."

Albus' eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Oh, yeah, I remember that. Beginning of last year, right? Ravenclaw game?"

Scorpius nodded. "I was out in half an hour." His eyes turned stony. "That completely inept Beater rammed right fucking into me, then had the fucking nerve to hit me."

Albus tried to stifle his laugh, but a small snigger escaped him. "Sorry, man. Not cool."

Scorpius pursed his lips. "I've never seen Bates catch the Snitch so fast though." He shook his head. "At least something good came out of my injury."

"Well, that, and Pomfrey cooks a mean stew, huh?"

"Damn, I'd forgotten about that stew," Scorpius said somewhat longingly, lifting his gaze up. "Hey, remember in fifth year - I think - you had two Bludgers coming after you for like, half the game? What the fuck was up with that?"

Albus gritted his teeth. "My uncles, that's what." He exhaled in annoyance, and Scorpius wondered if he'd made the wise choice of re-opening what seemed to still be a fresh wound. "They run a joke shop, right, and they created these Bludgers - indistinguishable from the normal ones, mind - that you can enchant to lock onto a target."

"And your uncles did it as a practical joke on….you?"

"Oh, never fear," Albus said with a brittle smile. "Oh, we're ever so sorry, Al, we never dreamed they'd ever be used on you." He rubbed his temples. "I mean, they own a fucking open joke shop, right? Obviously some twat's going to buy their stuff and use it."

Scorpius wasn't exactly the empathetic type. "Uh...that's rough, man."

Albus nodded somewhat dazedly, as if he was still re-living the memories. He shook his head and then glanced down. "Huh."

"What?"

He held up his arm. "It's quarter to twelve. Our patrol ended fifteen minutes ago."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow, shaking back his sleeve to expose his own wrist. "Huh."

They looked at each other in silence, and then, in unison, "Huh."

"Well, I guess we can go, then," Scorpius said, uncomfortable with the fact that his tone sounded somewhat uncertain.

"Yeah," Albus replied, in a similar fashion. "I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah," Scorpius said, furrowing his brow, watching as Albus made his way towards the Grand Staircase. "I guess you will."

Once Rose had managed to steer the conversation away from all things choir and half-time shows, their dinner once again became startlingly more pleasant.

But if anything, that made the doubt clench within her chest even more; if the dinner blew all together, it would be so much easier. On the other hand, she thought, whilst wondering why this was only the second option that came to mind, if the dinner had been wonderful all the way through, that would've been easy too.

It was an unfortunate sort of yo-yo relationship, she knew. But not even the exciting kind. The exciting kind, she was almost ashamed to admit, was the one full of passion, but the one that turned into a sort of reckless abandon, the one that led to screaming matches and-

Rose's brain switched gears completely as soon as she'd thought the word 'screaming matches'. That was not what she wanted.

Here was Christian, who had, from the kindness of his heart, set up this entire dinner; Christian, who had remembered her favourite foods, and here she was, surely unable to do the same even if she'd had a gun held to her head.

She locked back into his gaze, his kind, smiling eyes coming back into focus. And that only made her feel all the more wretched.

She broke their eye contact, glancing down at her watch. "Oh, gosh, it's almost half ten." She swept her napkin across her mouth. "And I still have a Charms essay to finish."

Christian looked up in surprise. "Half ten, already?" He shook his head, smiling. "Time flies when you're having fun, huh?"

"Oh, yes," Rose said. "That's how the saying goes."

Christian beamed at her, and pushed back his chair. "I'll walk you back."

"Are you sure? You'll only have to go up and then back down again."

"I insist," he said, coming around to meet her as she stood. "More time together, right?"

She nodded, smiling, and as they reached the door, turned back to look at the still beautiful set up before Christian magicked it away.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it, as he took her hand. "This was so thoughtful."

Christian coloured, grinning, and shrugged. "You're worth it."

She only smiled at him, and they set off.

"What a good night, huh?" Christian said merrily, swinging their hands together. "And I've gotta say - Chinese food is fantastic. I wonder if they have anything in Hogsmeade."

Rose scrunched up her nose. "Doubt it."

They arrived on the seventh floor, Christian still clasping her hand in his. The warmth was comforting against the cold stone of the dark castle.

They'd walked in silence along the corridor, but as they reached the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, Christian turned to her again, his eyes almost shining. "You know, Rose, the more time I spend with you, the more I realise how much I love-" and here something gripped Rose's heart like a vice, "-every minute of it."

She tried to hide her relieved sigh, and instead reached up on her tiptoes to press her lips against his cheek. "Thank you again. I had a wonderful time."

He had a funny look on his face as she lowered herself back down to meet his gaze, and it only took her a second to realise where she'd seen it before: Nate had worn it on their fourth date when he'd taken her out for a picnic by the lake and they'd watched the sunset together. He'd said her name softly, for they'd sat in a peaceful silence for so long that she had almost dozed off, and then he'd said it again, smiling when she caught his eye-

"Hey, Rose, I..uh…"

And she realised that she couldn't do it, couldn't let him go through with it.

She broke into a loud cough, bringing a hand to her chest.

His face changed completely, resting a hand onto her shoulder. "Rose, are you alright?"

She waved a hand in front of her. "Oh, no, I'm fine, but I think I'm getting that thing that's going around; pity, I thought I'd missed it this time…"

He nodded understandingly. "Well, I…I think I'd better let you get back then. Sleep up and all that."

She turned her expression into something she hoped conveyed the appropriate amount of disappointment, and nodded as he gave her one last smile and set off, whistling.

"Cheer up, dear," said the Fat Lady's portrait. "Handsome fellow you've got there. And completely taken with you, I see."

"Oh, yes," Rose replied hollowly. "Completely."

It was just past midnight by the time Scorpius returned to the Slytherin dormitories, and by the looks of it, the Common Room was almost completely deserted. There were a few people by the fireplace, one person resting on the sofa, and another huddled at a desk.

Upon recognising the blonde messy bun piled on top of a bent over head, Scorpius made his way over to the table and leant down to press his lips quickly into his girlfriend's hair. "You look busy," he murmured, his eyes roaming the colour palettes monopolising the surface.

Liv looked up to meet his eyes, but her expression quickly morphed into one of suspicion. "What's up with you?"

Scorpius raised his eyebrows, leaning slightly back. "What do you mean?"

"You look kind of…happy."

Scorpius pulled out the chair next to her and lowered himself down, shrugging. "Seems unlikely."

She continued to scrutinise him. "What happened?"

He shrugged a second time. "Nothing."

"Did someone fall down the stairs again?"

"Okay, that was one time, and it was hilarious — you laughed too-"

"I snorted, I wasn't like you who almost collapsed-"

"No one fell down any stairs," Scorpius said, his tone remarkably unconcerned. She had just opened her mouth again when he hastily directed his attention back to the tabletop. "What're you up to?"

She followed his gaze, tapping her fingers on some of the squares. "My aunt and uncle's twenty-fifth anniversary party is coming up and she knows I like this sort of thing, you know, decorating and stuff, so she asked if I'd like to help out. I'm just playing around with some colours, I'm not too sure yet…"

Scorpius pointed to a particular duo of cream and deep plum. "I like this one."

Liv shook her head, strands of hair coming loose from her bun. "Seriously, what is up with you?"

He sighed, accepting that a simple shrug would just lead to further pestering. "Tonight was just a lot easier than I thought it was going to be."

He looked up as one of the girls by the fireplace rose and left for the dormitories. "Has Toby come through yet?"

Liv sniggered, piling some squares on top of each other. "He got cornered by Ruth Nesgrave - you know, the one who almost drained the life force out of him during the party - about half an hour ago. Haven't seen him since."

Scorpius snickered. "If you ask me, he didn't hate it. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if-"

"Don't you two have anything better to do than gossip about me when I'm not around? You're like a pair of old ladies, honestly."

Scorpius chuckled loudly, standing and clapping Toby on the back. "Glad to see you're still in one piece."

Toby looked at his best friend quickly, and then turned his attention to Liv. "What's up with him?"

Liv laughed, throwing Scorpius a smug look as Toby moved to rest against the table's edge.

"For fuck's sake," Scorpius groused, pushing his chair in roughly. "I'm going to bed."

"If you still feel like this in the morning, you might pay Madam Pomfrey a visit, just in case!" Toby called out from behind him, Liv's giggle tinkering in the background.

Scorpius only threw up a one finger salute behind him.

"Alihotsy," Xavier said, writing it onto the chalkboard behind him, "is indicative of which potion?"

The meagre rustle behind him compelled him speak his next words without turning around. "Mr Malfoy?"

"The Alihotsy Draught," Scorpius replied, the smugness in his tone already the worst part of Rose's day, "whose effects induce the drinker or inhaler with symptoms of hysteria."

"Correct." The Professor turned away from the board and placed the chalk down on his desk. "As you might have guessed, this will be the potion of interest in today's lesson. However, before we begin, I would like to ask if anyone could tell me the chief ingredient of the Alihotsy Draught."

Rose's hand shot up; Scorpius, however, didn't bother. "Powdered root of Aspohdel, Professor," she answered.

"And in what amount?"

"Five roots, sir."

"Precisely." Xavier tapped his wand on the hourglass beside him. "You will be allotted an hour's time to complete this brew. Please ensure you cap a test tube amount to be graded."

Rose had just opened her textbook when an all too familiar voice chimed, "Professor, if I may, I disagree with Ms Weasley's contention."

"And by extension, my contention?" Xavier asked, eyebrows raised.

Rose looked to her right to see Scorpius nodding humbly. Well, as humbly as an self-important egotist could.

"After following Professor Snape's revised rendition of the draught, I believe using an extra half-root results in the more potent potion."

Rose huffed. As if Scorpius Malfoy would offer to share his upper hand with anyone. The only reason he spoke up was to enact a personal jibe against her.

"Professor," she said, raising her hand as well. "Perhaps Mr Malfoy has not considered that the increased potency of the potion might have adverse effects on its success, namely, excessive hysteria."

Scorpius inclined his head towards her. "Perhaps Ms Weasley has not fully appreciated the fact that it was a previous Professor who penned these alterations, and that by undermining his constitutions, she may be undermining the constitutions of his successors."

Rose's eyes flashed in outrage as he turned to issue a forcedly neutral look towards their Professor, though she could see the glint in his eyes from where she sat.

By the looks of it, Xavier had not taken offence at Rose's injection; on the contrary, he looked almost entertained.

He nodded a few times, appraising both of his students. "I should not think to disagree with either of you." He almost smiled, before carrying on smoothly, "Therefore, Ms Weasley, you, along with the rest of the class, may brew the potion to adhere to the textbook's instructions. Mr Malfoy, you may brew your concoction as Severus Snape deemed fit."

Rose bit back her inclination to hold her tongue. "Professor, mustn't we consider that the ingredients used only partially predict the outcome of the potion. That is, the skill of the brewer also needs to be taken into account."

"Ms Weasley appears to be backing down, Professor," Scorpius said loftily.

"Not at all, sir," Rose replied, haughtily. When Scorpius turned to throw her a patronising smirk, she mouthed, "Prick."

Confidently out of Xavier's view, he mouthed back, "Bitch."

"Thank you, Ms Weasley, Mr Malfoy." The two students stopped glaring at each other to glare at their teacher. "You've made my next task that much easier. The two of you will be our first pair."

Rose's mouth fell open in horror. "Pairs for what?"

Xavier smiled coolly. "As much as some of you-" and here he stared pointedly back at his previously bickering students, "-would like to think otherwise, paired work is an integral part of learning and improvement, and the ability to rely on another is a skill gained only through experience. This one month project will not only make up fifty percent of this semester's grade, but it will also allow me to further reference you to your Head of House for your impending career advisory sessions. You can see that this particular project is a rather crucial one."

At this stage, waves of heat were rolling off of Rose's Weasley's person.

"Personal relationships must be put aside in place of professionalism." Xavier extended a hand out to his first pair. "Wouldn't you agree? You two will each make up fifty percent of Pair A."

One hundred percent of Pair A vehemently disagreed.

"Professor," Rose tried. "I really can't afford to mess this project up, you know how important it is to-"

"Then you must be exceedingly grateful that I have partnered you with the most capable Potions student at Hogwarts. You may begin."

Rose could feel Scorpius' smirk; from across the room, Gen mouthed, "Bad luck". Rose let her breath out through her teeth and glowered as Scorpius sauntered towards her.

"Professor." She perked up at the sound of her cousin's voice. "Don't you think pairing up the top two students gives them an unfair advantage?"

Al was right; it was a total injustice. Rose turned to face her Professor, barely hiding her glee.

"Well, I wouldn't say top two students," Scorpius muttered darkly, stopping as he passed. "You realise I've been put at a complete disadvantage being paired up with you, Weasley."

"I forgot this year's Head Girl was totally inept at one of Hogwarts' core subjects," Rose sniped back. "However will we manage?"

As the entire class watched their two Heads spar, Professor Xavier turned back to face Al, flipping the hourglass and setting it down. "Mr Potter, does that look like an unfair advantage to you?"

Even Al had no retort.

"How was your date?" was Gen's opening line as she joined Rose and Albus at the dinner table.

Rose chewed her gammon for a few moments before answering. "Fine."

Gen pulled a sympathetic face. "That bad, huh?"

Al's fork froze on the way into his mouth. "She didn't say bad, she said 'fine'. Why does that translate to bad? I don't get it."

The two girls threw him an understanding look, but then refaced each other.

"I don't know!" Rose said, reaching a hand up to brace her head against. "I don't know if it even went badly, you know? Because there were some great parts to it, I mean, he brought me the most amazing food-"

"He brought you food?" Al said, swallowing and then immediately shoving more food in his mouth. "He'f de one."

Rose looked at him with distaste. "No, Al, that's not the point. The food was great, and it was so thoughtful, you know, but he just…he cares about his choir so much. So much."

"So now caring about something is bad too?" Al said, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. "See, this is why I'm slowly making my way through the entirety of the Hogwarts female population."

"No," Gen said, waving her fork at him, ignoring the gravy she was dripping onto the table, "You're making your way through the entirety of the Hogwarts female population because you have the thirst of a camel."

"Actually," Rose pointed out. "Camels can go for weeks with little to no water."

"That wasn't my angle."

"Though when food is scarce, they'll eat or drink anything. Even tents."

"That was my angle."

"Hey!"

"So maybe he gets a little too invested in his music stuff, is that so bad?" Gen asked, sneaking a look to the Ravenclaw table behind her to make sure it was still sans Christian.

"Okay, saying Christian gets 'a little invested' in his music is like saying the Great Depression was a bad day for the stock market."

"Oh, it can't be as bad as all that-"

"I mean, during the day we spent at Hogsmeade together, we talked about a whole bunch of stuff, about languages and movies and books, and he only mentioned choir a little bit..."

"He probably didn't want to overwhelm you so soon after you just met."

"I guess so." She sighed. "Can we talk about something else? This conversation is making my food taste bad."

Gen nodded seriously, and then snickered. "We could talk about how exciting it is that you get to spend four extra hours a week with Malfoy for the next month."

Even as Gen had tried to change the subject, Rose's mind went straight back to her dinner with Christian, and she remembered with reproachfulness that stupid little voice that had glittered in her brain.

Al whistled. "What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall in that Potions classroom." His eyes suddenly glinted. "Say, do you think he loves Potions as much as Goldstein loves choir?"

Rose glared at him, putting her fork down with a quiet but severe clank. "You have some gravy on your face."

Three hours later, Rose exited the library after a wholly unsuccessful study session.

Usually it was her safe haven, a place where her thoughts were the most secure and un-muddled, though for the entire two hours she was there, she couldn't seem to calm her racing mind.

And then it hit her.

It really shouldn't be this hard.

She knew it wasn't a question of talking to him, or trying to change him; no, that wasn't what she wanted. It even seemed selfish to her that she might change the very quality of his that might make him so much more attractive to a particular someone, even if that someone wasn't her.

She nodded a few times to herself, trying to become more confident as she headed back for her room, planning out what she might say, imagining what he might reply. No, picturing his face was not helpful in the least.

But as she looked up from her fingers as they traced invisible patterns all over her textbook, she saw that for the first time that day, something was coming to her the easy way.

A flicker of doubt seeded up inside her as their eyes locked. He really was very good looking.

But she was too hopeful; that spark, that excitement, was gone.

"Rose!" Christian bounded up and stooped to peck her cheek, wrapping their hands together. "I was just looking for-what's wrong?"

She swallowed and slowly untangled herself. "Christian," she whispered, dread curdling in her stomach. "We need to talk."

A/N:

Told you I'd get this chapter up sooner than the last :P Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter; all follows, favourites and reviews are greatly appreciated, as always :) Chapter titles come from Fall Out Boy's Where Did the Party Go? — are we seeing a trend yet? — and Motion City Soundtrack's Last Night.

Oh yeah, I've gotten a few questions about this - Gen is not related to Cho Chang. They just have the same last name.

~ Rach

P.S. Are reviews things that I should be replying to? I'm a bit late hopping onto the bandwagon of fanfiction mores.