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I've actually neglected this very important fact: HARRY POTTER DOESN'T BELONG TO ME


Rose POV

Get it together Rose, you're a sixth year now for Merlin's sake! My hands clenched into fists. I was doing fine, great even. I got off the Hogwarts Express and waved to Hagrid before the first years surrounded him, managed to find Al in three minutes instead of the usual five, and found a compartment with Penny before her 'fan club' got to her. Her fan club consisted of three boys in our year, Parker Landerwick, Pierce Hammerwall, and Patrick Webster; all were striving for her attention.

I took a deep breath. Screw it.

"I can't," I say to Penny, who was reassuring me. It felt like I was being swallowed from the inside out, the pit in my stomach was growing larger by the second.

"Rose," Penny says, "Rose, honey, look at me." Penny was big on using words like honey, sweetheart, pumpkin, etc. It made her sound like Aunt Ginny, in my opinion.

I look at her, my chest constricted, "I can't do this."

"You can," she says, "And you will! You always do. You can't get to Hogwarts any other way. Your broom is in your trunk, which is already at the castle by this point, and you can't apparate yet."

"Merlin," I breathe deeply, "How did I do this last year?"

"Exactly!" she exclaims, "You didn't even pass out last year."

"Bloody hell," I say again, stepping towards the boat that would bring us to the school, while Penny started walking towards the carriages.

I have no idea why I volunteered to do this every year. I willingly put myself through hell on Earth just so Professor McGonagall could look at me for three seconds and go "Thank you so much for offering to help the first years onto the boat, and for sitting with them! I'm sure they felt safer already with you there," to which I would force a smile on my face, willing the queasiness to leave my body, and say "Of course. I'm glad I can help." I was deathly afraid of bodies of water; pools, lakes, oceans, bathwater, anything at all. It didn't help that I had decided to give up the comfort of the carriages that were on flat land, with four stable wheels and all of my friends, only to sit on a boat floating through a lake with aggressive merfolk and unknown creatures, with children who found joy in rocking back and forth.

Finally, I was on my way back to Hogwarts for the sixth time.

"Rose," Al says as we walk towards the old castle, "I think Penny's fan club may be one person short this year."

"Why's that," I say, rubbing my arms. It was chilly out.

"I heard from Lorcan, who heard from Lysander, who happened to walk by Casey and Andriya, that Parker Landerwick fancies you," Al says, ticking off his fingers.

"I'm sorry, I lost you for second," I say, trying to keep up, "Did you say Parker Landerwick fancies me?"

Al looks at his fingers, "I think so?"

"Merlin," I say, "He's cute."

My cousin shrugs, "If you say so."

"I mean, not when he's obsessed over Penny," I say, shaking my head, "This all seems very wrong to you, doesn't it?"

It took me roughly ten minutes to confirm that Parker does, in fact, fancy me. It could, of course, be due to the many rumours that Hogwarts has. Andriya Masterton was a gossip queen after all. Along with her, my roommates include the very smart, piercing-loving Casey Tran, my best friend and part-Veela Penny Ross, and Naomi Featherwood, a Metamorphagus in training.

Dinner was a gong show, as it always is at Hogwarts. First day back and James and Fred were already fighting for food. Hugo was trying to kick Lily and Lucy off the Gryffindor table. Al was trying to keep Candace from leaving since she was supposed to be seated at the Hufflepuff table, and Scorpius was nowhere to be seen.

This year wasn't going to be any different between him and I. We would most likely be partnered up in the classes we had together, I was going to stop stalking him, and he was going to leave me alone like always. Whatever happened at the Burrow would stay at the Burrow. This year, I wasn't going to stare at him and pretend that we were friends in some reality. I was moving on. I never cared about him before and I didn't care now. I didn't care that his stares made my arms cold and my heart warm. Curse puberty and its uncontrollable rollercoaster of hormones.

Which was why when Parker came up to me after dinner and asked me how I was doing and if I was interested in hanging out, I said yes. I didn't deserve the unsettling feeling I got every time Scorpius decided to go out of his way to be nice to the new sixth year girls, or when they decided that they would attach themselves to his arms wherever he went.

That was how I ended up with Parker carrying my Potions books for me two days later.

"You're late for class Parker," I say, taking my books from him.

"It's okay," he says smiling, "I got Divination right now."

"Nice of you to join us Miss Weasley," Professor Patil says, "Off you go Mr. Landerwick, get to class."

I scan the classroom. The only open seat is between Lysander and Scorpius.

"Please sit down Miss Weasley, class has begun," Professor Patil says sternly, "In between Mr. Scamander and Mr. Malfoy, if you wouldn't mind."

Lysander waves at me and Malfoy rubs the top of his quill between his thumb and forefinger, looking at the piece of parchment in front of him.

I could not believe my luck. Professor Patil hands us a pop quiz, questioning our knowledge on simple concoctions. Concentration, however, did not come easy when Malfoy bumps into your knee every few seconds. His left hand clenched and unclenched as he scans the quiz. Goodness Rose, enough of this creepy business!

"Eyes on your own parchment please," Professor Patil says, eyeing me curiously. I wasn't one to cheat and she knew that.

"Who even remembers how many drops of Flobberworm Mucus you need to brew a Wiggenweld Potion anyway?" Lysander says, packing up his things.

"Two," I say immediately, cutting off someone else's answer.

"Only you two of course," Lysander sighs, glancing between the both of us, "You're more alike than you think."

I pack my bags and walk out, ignoring Lysander's comment and further ignoring the owner of the mop of platinum blonde hair beside him. A few flights of stairs later I encountered a crowd of students, blocking the way to my next flight of stairs, one that could change any minute. It was known for moving more frequently than the others. Finally, after pushing my way through the crowd, I reach the stairs. The ground shook familiarly; the stairs were changing already.

"Well, Weasley are you going to move or not?" a cool drawl says from behind me.

"The stairs are changing, you idiot," I say, under my breath.

"Watch where you're standing then," he says, offering a hand to pull me to a more stable place on the stairs.

The ground seemed safe enough, from where I was standing. I needed to get away, anywhere but near him. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't think at all. If only I could step a little closer that way…

The ground shifts loudly. The next thing I know, I'm being pulled away from the disappearing ground underneath me. I was in someone's arms. My nose is overwhelmed by the smell of fresh grass and coffee. There was something sweet too, apples?

"Let me go Malfoy," I whisper. My vision was blurring from the sudden tears at the thought of falling to my imminent death, and my head was spinning.

"I would but Al wouldn't forgive me if I did," he says, his chin brushing the top of my head as he pulls me upright.

My legs were collapsing but I couldn't show weakness. I can't, especially not in front of him.

"Graceful are we?" he says as I collapse to the ground, a few inches from falling three floors down, "Maybe break down somewhere safer, Weasley."

"I'm not breaking down," I say, my voice wavering, "Just go to class Malfoy."

"What will I tell Macmillan when his favourite student doesn't show up for class?" he asks, straightening his bag.

Shit. We have Transfiguration right now. Together. My plan of avoiding him can rest in peace.

I get up on my own, despite his hand outstretched yet again, and pick up my bags. We walk in silence to the Transfiguration classroom, going our separate ways to our seats. When class ends, we're the last two students to leave.

"Ladies first," he says, holding the door open when we're both ready to leave.

There was enough talking today to last the rest of my life.

Scorpius POV

"Wait, backup," Al says, waving his hands around, "You, Scorpius Malfoy, talked to Rose Weasley?"

"What did I miss?" Lysander says, pulling a shirt on.

"A miracle," Smitt says from his bed, "We all missed it."

"Are we even sure it happened at this point?" Lysander asks, "I mean no one was even there to witness it."

"Scorpius definitely comes across as a liar doesn't he," Etienne says, his slight French accent prominent, as he looks up from his book.

"No harm asking," Lysander says, sticking his tongue out.

"Well, what did you say?" Smitt asks, "Tell me you didn't bore her with your obsession with muggle music."

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" I say, turning to Al, "How is James coping with Elaine being Head Girl?"

"I think he's feigning happiness," Al says, shaking his head, "He's happy for her, I think, but he definitely wants to knock Miles Montgomery's slightly crooked teeth out for making Head Boy."

"Did James think he might be chosen as Head Boy?" Lysander says, his jaw dropping, "That kid has more detentions than his grandfather."

"I can't believe I didn't see it before," Al says, "He really does fancy Finnigan."

The rest of us nod in agreement. It wasn't uncommon for the Head Boy and Head Girl to get together. It must have already gone through James's head what was about to go down.

"Well, he can't do anything about it now," I say, "Let's just hope he gets his head in the game before it's all over."

"Yeah," Al says, changing the subject smoothly, "Have you guys heard about the new Hogwarts student this year?"

"You mean, aside from the girls that everyone clearly paid attention to?" I say.

"A Veela?" Smitt asks hopefully.

"Yeah," he says, "Candace's ex-boyfriend from Beauxbatons."

"Agh," Smitt says, his face crinkling in disgust, "Didn't see that coming."

"Oh fun," I say sarcastically, "What's Damien Lucas doing at Hogwarts?"

"No idea," Al says half-heartedly, pushing his glasses up, "He's been spending a whole lot of time with Candace though. The Headmistress of Beauxbatons herself personally contacted McGonagall to make sure he was taken care of and put in good hands. Candace happened to be in the room asking McGonagall something. Now she's helping him fit in, not that he needs it. He's Veela after all."

Next Potions class, Rose was still sitting with Lysander and I. Lysander was keeping a close eye on us, hoping to witness the "miracle" as Smitt called it. Eventually he moved when Patil wanted us in pairs. Rose and I worked in silence, without speaking a word. It was fascinating to the rest of the students, who knew about our situation. By the fifth class, I had come to the conclusion that we weren't going to be talking anymore. She was so closed off and something in me snapped, an honorable sacrifice if you will. There was no way I was going to make the rest of the year miserable for her. I do enjoy her presence, despite the whole not talking thing, but this just wasn't going to work.

Rose was humming while she monitored our potion, scribbling and sketching here and there. She seemed like she was in a good mood but deep down, I felt horrible that she couldn't speak her mind to me. She couldn't speak to me at all.

"Professor?" I say, raising my hand. It was now or never.

Rose looks up to meet my gaze, her face skeptical.

"May I request to switch partners?" I ask. The whole class turns to me.

"Why?" she asks, "You and Miss Weasley make a fine couple."

A few people snicker.

"She and I don't get along very well," I manage.

"This is what partner work is all about Mr. Malfoy. New opinions and new perspectives," she says, "Now enough with all this chitchat, finish your assignments! There are two minutes left in class."

I sit down, defeated. Class ends and she runs out of the classroom, leaving me with her notebook.

"Well done," Lysander slow claps in my ear, "You really made her feel good."

"If she had a new partner she wouldn't look so out of it all the time," I say, picking up her notebook that she left behind and putting it in my bag, "Plus, Al will have my head if she complains about me. I'm just trying to steer clear."

"You're so clueless mate," he says, shaking his head, "She's not out of it, she's just shy!"

"What makes you say that? She talks to you just fine," I say.

"Because you saved her life like muggle Prince Charming, with your fluffy blonde hair and your sharp jawline, and she's not even sure what to say to you after that," Lysander says, reaching to rub my hair messily.

I slap his hand away, running my own hands through to make it somewhat presentable.

"And now you just gave her the wrong idea, asking to switch partners in class. God Malfoy, back at it with the bad choices huh?" he says.

"She hasn't talked to me before and I haven't cared before," I say, walking out of the classroom, "Why would I care now?"

"Did something happen Malfoy?" Lysander says, raising an eyebrow, "Does a certain truth or dare game come to mind?"

"You're kidding me," I say to him, "There's nothing okay? She probably rushed out to see Landerwick save a squirrel from a tree or something. Yeah, I might have winked at her and smiled at her, and kissed her three times but there is nothing between me and Rose Weasley."

"Okay," Lysander says thoughtfully, "I don't believe you, but okay."

"Hey, come on," I say, "I'll go out tonight at dinner and say hello to a few girls, happy?"

"Boom. Fireworks," Lysander says, winking, "Just warn me if they come back to our dorm."

Something in my gut feeling told me I'd be successful with the girls. Something in my head told me to move on. She was with someone for Salazar's sake, she doesn't even talk to me. It was time to forget. Someone else could make her happy, just like someone else could make me happy. But still, that someone else would be missing something, and I couldn't quite tell what it was.

And that, scared me shitless.