A/N: I tried to write and edit as fast as I could! I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!
Sucker
Rose took an instinctive step backwards, partly to stretch her right ankle, and partly to sense the space. Her back hit the wall harshly. The area was tighter than she had imagined. She could feel the bricks on the wall, rasping her back. Her feet were tightly locked between the objects that were lying on the floor. The cling of metal echoed in the tight space; her shoe had hit a bucket, which had unravelled a chain of atoning noises. And among the bricks, the buckets and the darkness were the hands that firmly locked her waist.
Her eyes were yet to get accustomed to the lack of clarity. But she didn't need to see to be sure of his proximity, a few shy centimetres away from her. She could feel his chest, close to her own pounding body. His scent mesmerised her. She breathed in. She knew his head had bent towards her. His chin was so close to hers that she could easily make the first move if she dared. But she parted her lips instead, to inhale his essence in again. His warm breath throbbed the tip of her tongue.
She closed her eyes tightly; Oh, she hated how easy it was for him to tease. He could be testing her —she thought— to see how eager she was to kiss him; or he could be playing with the thrill, delaying any form of gratification, as if they had not postponed it long enough already. Whatever it was he was doing; it would drive her to insanity in that tight closet.
His knee, hidden under the raspy cloth of his trousers, brushed the bare skin of her lower thigh. The grip of his hands on her waist grew tighter, and for a slight second, she felt his right arm trembling.
Her hands, free until that moment, halted delicately on his chest, which moved sharply to her feeble touch. She pressed her palms against him, and the tip of her fingers explored the cloth of his shirt. The increasing pressure of her hands against his chest accelerated his breathing, and he moved forward with confidence, eliminating any remaining distance between his mouth and her parted lips.
She breathed in when he kissed her and felt him do the same. Her hands travelled up, one to wrap behind his neck, the other one to climb up his hair. He opened his mouth and took her lips in deeply, while his hands released her waist, and moved down, loosening with confidence over her hips.
Bliss amid the darkness. Every time he stopped, she pulled him down again, punishing him for all his teasing before. He moved his body closer to her but respected the small, irritating distance that was left. She pulled him down once more, by his neck, daring him to close all remaining space between them. He resisted to obey, and as he went on to kiss her profoundly, his hands released the grip on her hips.
He moved his arms up and placed each hand against the bricks of the wall behind her, to the sides of her head, building a frame around her face. The change of posture made him seem stronger, like demanding them both to preserve some form of sanity. He had just made it more difficult for Rose to pull him towards her. He breathed in again and slowed the pace of his fervent kiss. With ease and delicacy, Scorpius bit her lower lip, before separating his mouth from hers. There he was, teasing her again.
She sighed and laid her head against the wall, without measure.
"Ow," she complained when her skull hit a bulge on the brick. She heard him laugh and went to open her eyes in resignation, while Scorpius' right hand moved to caress the part of her head that had taken the hit.
She distinguished a smile, forming on his otherwise solemn face, in the middle of all darkness. Rose's pupils had adapted to the lack of light; and she could now make out the silhouette of his face, his nose, his lips, his chin, his pale skin, and his grey eyes. She returned the smile in inexplicable satisfaction.
"Rose Weasley," he whispered, closing his eyes, before kissing her again, this time smoothly; a soft brush on her lips. "It's been a while," his raspy voice murmured as if filing a complaint.
"Too long," she retorted. The fingers of her right hand played with his hair. He closed his eyes to her touch for a split second and moved to rearrange his body, building pressure on his hands, which were still glued to the brick wall. He separated his legs, and the move unfolded a new chain of noises in the closet. Rose heard the clutter and saw a broomstick falling from the wall and onto his head.
"Argh", he grunted, taking his hand to his head, as the stick fell to the floor. "Bloody—" he murmured before repressing his own words.
Rose released a chuckle. "This is absurd," she laughed.
"The perks of improvising. Not my finest moment," Scorpius said, shutting his eyes tightly, to absorb the pain. "I—wasn't thinking straight. I just wanted to have you, alone for a moment, you know...as selfish as it sounds," he confessed and pressed his fingers against the bruise on his head.
"No," she said softly. "This is—charming," she mocked.
"I know this can get you into trouble," he said as he opened his eyes to look at her.
"Don't worry about getting me into trouble. I'll worry about that. I'll figure a way to—"
"That Auror is here just for you, isn't he?" he cut her.
"It's a precaution," she argued dryly.
"Your father wouldn't have gone through all this trouble if he didn't fear there was someone inside the castle who could harm you," he pointed out.
"Scorpius, it's not like that. He doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm too stupid to take care of myself."
"He doesn't think that," Scorpius whispered.
"How would you know what he thinks?"
"Rose," he ignored her question. "Does he know about us?"
"No! —Honestly, I don't know. He suspects. I think he might be in denial."
"But he thinks I want to hurt you," he stated bluntly.
"—Alright, stop. Stop pretending like you know what goes inside his head. He is self-involved and radical. He's the type who tends to overreact."
"You know that's not what's going on," he said firmly. "He thinks I'm part of it all."
"Stop speculating! You're overcomplicating this."
"You're oversimplifying this."
"Is this what you pulled me into a broom closet for? To remind me of my father's mental ways?"
He shook his head. "Not even close," he breathed in. "I had a different plan, entirely— and it played much better in my head, by the way. Very smooth," he said.
"No broomstick?" she asked distractedly while contemplating his pale cheek, then his neck. She could feel the warmness of his skin.
"Absolutely no brooms in the broom closet, whatsoever."
"How else was it different?" she said in a whisper, holding tight to his shirt.
He softly hummed before answering. "You couldn't get your hands off me."
Rose smiled and slowly slipped two fingers into the groove that formed between the two mid buttons of his white, perfectly pressed shirt. She felt his chest moving with strength when her fingers touched his bare skin.
"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said as if trying to distract himself, his chest swollen. His hands searched for her face, and as his palms held the weight of her jawline, his fingers caressed the skin of her neck.
"I'm much better now," she answered, her thumb still played with the button of his shirt, and her fingertips brushed his skin. She then raised her sight to meet his, her face tight in the embrace of his hands. He contemplated her silently before speaking again.
"Are you sure?" he insisted once more.
"I'm just— a bit tired— haven't been sleeping as much," she admitted. Scorpius nodded slowly.
"I tried to talk myself out of it, you know. I thought about giving you some space, let things unfold on their own." With his left hand, he reached for a loose lock that hung freely over her cheekbone and tucked it behind her ear. "I thought anything I did tonight would be out of pure despair, and —that's never good."
"But here we are, in the closet," she pointed out. Her hand, still tangled in the groove of his shirt, closed the grip on the cloth, to hold it tighter.
He smiled weakly and nodded as he continued to stroke her hair with his hand. Meanwhile, his right hand had slowly travelled to hold her neck.
"You looked at me, from across the hall." He sighed, stared intently. "And those eyes," he whispered roughly. "Who could resist that?" He paused for a moment. "I don't know if I got it wrong, but I took it as a call."
Rose laughed; she tilted her head down for a moment, before staring straight at him again. "I've missed you," she confessed with a voice that yielded melancholy.
He lowered his head, and she could spot his shy smirk. "I— I was going mad." She laughed again, and he followed. "I'm positive I was."
"You hide it well," she reproached him, in a soft tone that could have easily been interpreted as sweet, had it not been for the accusatory weight of her words.
"Do I now?" he smiled, but in a contemptuous, almost painful manner. Rose pressed her lips together and shrugged timidly, fuddled by how fast her insecurities were surfacing. She had spent all summer seasoning them; overthinking every kiss, every smile, every stroke of his hand against her skin, every word she had heard him say during their time together. She looked down and parted her lips, but felt too weak to elaborate on all her fears; on how thin the thread sometimes felt, on everything that could crash between them and pull him away from her, in a matter of seconds. A soft gasp escaped her.
"I don't think I can do this again," he then said, putting a stop to the beating of her heart.
"Do what?"
"Keep distance, like we did these two months," he murmured and pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth, his hand still holding her neck tightly.
"Oh," she sighed and breathed deeply, her heart coming back to life. "What option do we have?"
"You mean, other than broom closets?" He kissed her again, this time close to her ear. "I'll think of something— something classier," he whispered as he pulled back. He took his hand to hold her chin and slowly stroke his thumb over her mouth. Rose parted her lips, and waited, while he stood still in contemplation.
"Just kiss me," she whispered weakly.
"You're always in a hurry," he said; a devious smile formed across his pale face.
Rose exhaled impatiently, and held his shirt tightly with both hands to pull him down towards her, an effort that brought their lips together fully. Scorpius embraced her with urgency, wrapping his hands around her hips once again, this time fearless to press her firmly against him. A howling clatter, of tin and metal, echoed inside the tiny room.
As Rose reached the end of the hallway on her way to the common room, she tucked her loose locks behind her ears. She breathed in deeply and turned around the corner. As she had expected, the Auror was there, standing straight, at the end of the hall and close to the foot of the changing staircases.
She slowed her pace, walking firmly past him, expecting him to break his unnatural trance at any moment— And he did. The Auror's eyes followed her as she passed by. He frowned immediately; a disconcerted look stamped across his face. He had probably assumed she already was inside the common room. He broke his ordinary discretion and turned his head to stare at her, his frown deep. She shrugged carelessly, turned her head away from him, and walked up the staircases.
Rose didn't hold back the satisfied grin that struggled to escape her lips as she reached the top of the second staircase.
"Very happy, I see," the fat lady said suspiciously. Rose had not realized she was still smiling. "Shouldn't you wear your badge when doing rounds?" she inquired. Rose's smile faded. She said nothing. "Password?" The Fat Lady asked.
"Wanderlust," Rose murmured.
"Very well," she said plainly, as Rose strolled inside.
The life of the common room seemed to have faded sometime before her return. The few students who occupied it were distributed in small groups. Some sat at a table in the corner. Two others sat by an armchair next to the stairs.
In the corner of the dimly lit room, Albus sat by himself on the sofa next to the fireplace, reading into a parchment that was spread open on top of the coffee table.
"What are you doing?" She approached him.
"Reviewing the schedule," he said plainly, without drifting his eyes away from the parchment.
"Really? How— organised," she said in an impressed tone.
"Got lost on your way back, I suppose," he pointed out.
"You know, you're starting to get on my nerves, Al," she complained.
"I'm getting on your nerves?" Albus had raised his eyes to stare at her.
"Yes," she said firmly. "It's not like I'm doing any of this to upset you. It just— I don't have much of a choice. If I have to sneak around, then— I will. I'd at least expect you to—"
"—What's that?" Albus asked in concentration, looking slightly above Rose's ear. He raised his finger to point.
"What's what?"
"Is that?— Alright," he warned. "Don't get upset —but you have a spider in your hair," he said plainly.
"WHAT?" Rose shouted and jumped off in haste, screaming desperately as her hands went through her hair. "WHERE IS IT?" she shouted again, stumbling for a moment against the coffee table. "WHERE IS IT?" She repeated.
"Hold on, stay still—" Albus said, standing up to help. But her screaming blocked every sound in the common room. She tossed and turned, searching through her long curls. The tip of her fingers felt a plushy thing, to which she screamed more. She brushed it out, with all her strength.
"Is it off? Is it off?" She implored.
"Yes! It's off," Albus said.
Rose panted, and stood still for a moment, to catch her breath. She turned to inspect the room where she had displayed herself in. Most people seemed to have gone up to their dormitories, but the eyes of the few who populated the common room stared at her.
"I hate spiders," she declared, panting still. People started turning their heads back, to resume whatever activity they were in the middle of. Feeling flushed, she breathed in and threw herself on the sofa. Albus followed.
"Well, then…" he said.
"What? What is it now, Albus?" She let out coldly, covering her face in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.
"Broom closet?" He inquired.
She thought before answering. "Maybe," she murmured.
"Right," Albus nodded.
"Al, please," she whispered. "Could you cut me some slack?" She implored, turning to look at him.
"I was going to say— I know a thing or two about broom closets."
Rose laughed, slightly shocked by his retort, to which Albus chuckled. "Right, Annamarie," she said, recalling Albus' last crush during their sixth year, a beautiful Hufflepuff who had provided Albus with plenty of headaches. She had claimed to be the reserved type, and Albus had followed her around into empty classrooms and dark hallways until he concluded she was never going to take him seriously.
Rose pressed her palm strongly against her face, covering her eyes and nose. "What am I going to do?" She muffled.
Albus shrugged, picking up his schedule again. "Did the Auror see you come in?"
Rose nodded.
"Rose…"
"Well, I had to get in, didn't I? You know, this is difficult enough without you judging me. If you were in my place, you would do the same thing."
"—And you would call me off for being reckless."
She rolled her eyes and turned to look at the fireplace. She breathed in, twisting her lips softly. Not the Auror, not the Fat Lady, not Albus, and not even the intrepid spider could erase the sense of fulfilment and hope that had returned to her body.
"At least you look closer to your old self— you've been very crossed," Albus said.
She looked at him and smiled. "I need to figure out how to fool that Auror."
"What you need is a hobby," Albus said, staring deeply into the parchment. "Is it just me or these hours worth of Potions keep multiplying?"
"Really?" she jumped in excitement, reaching to look into Albus' parchment as well. "Oh—" she said. "It's only one extra hour compared to last year," she claimed in disappointment. Not that she was particularly drawn towards the subject, but it had become her favourite hour of the day since she had started to share a table with Scorpius. "Not a big deal," she said, dropping her attention on the schedule, knowing of Albus' aversion.
"Easy for you to say," he resented.
"What? Are you upset with me because we're no longer partners?"
"Nah— Henry's fine— I just can't stand it. I should have dropped it."
"You can't quit Potions, because that cancels out any chances of you going into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Rose reminded him.
"I doubt I'll end up doing that anyway. Maybe I should go for something else."
"That's mental, Al," she said. "You're good with spells. I remember for some time you even thought of becoming an Auror. Honestly, sometimes I think you hate potions for no real reason."
"It's a mess! You can't really predict anything with bloody Maddock constantly changing our recipes. All our Potions' books have been useless because nothing ever turns out to be exactly as it's written down. —You have to try each mix 20 times to get it right finally. Who has time for all that rubbish?"
"I suppose it takes a certain... type," she said absently. She had never really liked it either. Since her first year, she had found the heat and smell of a burning cauldron mildly unpleasant, but being one of the essential subjects at school, she took it personally to excel at it.
But Albus had a point. At first glance, it seemed to be an exact science, but it required an awful amount of patience and perseverance to master. Rose could spend long hours studying, but she lacked the patience to experiment and predict results. She inevitably thought of Scorpius, and his innate capability to focus on just one thing; observe it, study it, delicately tweak things until he got the results he wanted. She could not do that. She knew, though, that Albus' issue with Potions was a little more complicated than a character trait. "Anyway, you can't drop now, not with one year to go," she told him.
"Right," he said bitterly.
Rose sighed, her head resting on the sofa, her eyes set on the old wood of the roof above her. The fire cracked in the distance. She closed her eyes to absorb the peace. She heard the door of the common room open, and when she turned to see, in walked Sidney Stevens, with a proud posture, her chest exhibiting a Head Girl badge. Rose grunted and rested her head against the sofa.
"I can't believe he took away my badge," she resented.
"Who took away your badge?"
"My dad," she stated.
"You don't even know that's true. Just stop thinking about that already."
"Maybe you're right. I need a hobby. Something exciting," she claimed, knowing it would be useless to try to find something that could give her half the thrill she was feeling.
The next morning, Rose strolled rapidly down the corridor, towards the Great Hall. She had slept in, and Chassidy had had to wake her up to inform her she was running late for her first day. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow that night, drained from the excitement of being back, of seeing Scorpius again. She fell asleep peacefully, confident that it would only take a few smart moves to make their meetings happen. Her body gave in to her weight; her eyelids had plunged heavily. At first, she dreamt of him; she was sure she remembered. In the dream, she was alone with Scorpius, in darkness, with nothing but his shy smirk to guide her.
But as always, that strange, yet soothing dream had been abruptly interrupted. Gerard's face, the yellow tint of his eyes, and his disturbing laugh had interfered once again. She woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, panting; and had wrestled for at least an hour to go back to sleep.
And so, after sleeping in on her first day of school. She rushed down the hallway, her bag hanging from the edge of her right shoulder, while she attempted to clip the loose locks of her hair so they wouldn't stumble over her eyes and cheeks. She turned down the corner of the hallway, to encounter the Auror. As always, he stood straight and looked upfront, at nothing. She stopped and stared at him for a moment as she finished clipping one last curl to the back of her head.
"This is ridiculous," she said out loud. He didn't move, didn't turn to acknowledge her. "Are you just going to be standing there, everywhere I go?"
The Auror remained still, his eyes fixed on space. "Good morning, Miss Weasley," he said in a stern tone, still refusing to look at her. She had never heard him speak before.
"Oh, so you talk," she replied in sarcasm, to which he said nothing. "You were guarding the entrance to my common room last night. Do you even sleep?" she questioned, but the Auror didn't provide an answer and didn't move his eyes. "Right," she shook her head, and walked past him, towards the entrance of the Great Hall.
Close to the archway, she spotted the tall, slim figure of Thomas Judd, Scorpius' closest friend. "Rose!" he greeted her cheerfully, flashing his characteristically clear smile. "Good to see you," he said, stopping at the archway. Like most Slytherins, his uniform always seemed perfectly pressed and impeccable. Thomas was different from average Slytherins, though. The son of a witch and a Muggle, Thomas was a charmingly laid back sort of Slytherin. He was always eager to socialise, to entertain others with his dark sense of humour, and engage in conversation.
"Hi Thomas," she smiled back.
"You've been busy, I see," he said, shoving his head in the Auror's direction.
"Oh, yes— haven't you heard? I won myself a babysitter," she shrugged in resignation. She might as well start talking to people about the Auror, instead of pretending he wasn't there.
Thomas laughed. "Scorpius mentioned it— and everybody else is talking about it. You are the main topic around the school," he taunted.
"Brilliant."
"Hey, any publicity is good publicity, right? Learn to love the attention."
"Sure," she smiled painfully.
"I, for one, think it's good you have someone to protect you, you know— from shady blokes like Scorpius," he teased again.
She shook her head. "You're supposed to be his friend."
"I'll see you around," he said in a smile. "I'll be sure to send Scorpius your love," he stated, and walked inside the Great Hall, in the direction of the Slytherin table.
"Thanks," she chuckled, walking in as well, towards her table.
"Morning," she mumbled, sitting down, in front of Albus.
"Hey," Albus said, his eyes buried in the Daily Prophet, as he took a bite out of a bun.
"Anything good?" She asked, reaching for a jug, to pour herself pumpkin juice.
Albus placed the paper on the table and turned it around towards Rose.
"Not much is new," Albus said. "Except this," he pointed at a headline.
"Ministry of Magic, under investigation" Rose read. Below the bold, severe letters, stood a picture of a group of wizards, talking among them. She spotted her mother and her uncle. "They're interrogating people inside the Ministry," she said weakly.
"They're not taking any chances," Albus replied.
"Do you suppose they're close to finding something?" Rose raised her eyes at Albus. He shook his head. "No clue."
Rose instinctively took her hand to her forehead. "My mum looked exhausted the other day when she saw us off. I don't think she's getting any sleep."
"Neither are you, by the looks of it," Albus replied. Rose sustained her stare on Albus. She twisted her lips.
"Does uncle Harry look worried most of the time?"
"I barely see him anymore. When he's at home he locks himself in his office. Anything I know is by listening through the door."
"Right," Rose said. She looked up when she heard the distinctive flutter of owls flying into the Great Hall.
A little chill drove up to her stomach. Since her incident at the owlery, she had never received an owl with an anonymous letter again. Still, she had lost her interest in mail altogether. Owls now gave her shivers.
To her surprise, a short, plump owl with light brown feathers landed right in front of her. The bird displayed his peak, a small brown package hanging from it.
"You don't look so bad", Rose murmured to the small bird, who struck out his chest in pride.
Rose extended her hand to take the small package. She stroked the owl's feathers before the bird flew off. She read the label on the brown package and opened it fast once she read it came from Audrey. Inside she found a bag of Drops of Heaven, among Rose's favourite chocolates, and one of Audrey's most fabulous creations. Next to the bag sat a small vial, wrapped around a piece of parchment. She unfolded the parchment and extended the note to read it to herself.
Dear Rose,
This took me longer than I thought, but here it is! Two drops in tea should help you have a dreamless night. It's not a sleeping potion, so don't expect to fall asleep faster than usual, but it should help you sleep well through the night. I added a bag of Drops of Heaven, to make sure you're fully stocked. Enjoy!
Love,
Audrey.
Rose smiled and stared into the glowing looking lavender vile, before holding it tightly in her fist.
"Check it out," someone roared. "Lily got a howler!"
Rose turned her face, to search for Lily, who she quickly spotted further down the table.
"Oh, no," Lily said, as she jumped off the table to fetch the floating envelope. She grabbed it with strength, and as the letter unfolded and forced between her hands, Lily strutted to run out of the Great Hall. But she had only advanced a few steps when her mail began to scream at her, right off from the grip of her fists.
"LILY!" the clear voice of James shouted. "LILY, YOU BETTER GIVE IT BACK!"
Lily ran faster, but the howler was unstoppable now.
"I swear— if you don't send it back right now I will go to Hogwarts to get it MYSELF! You better not try to do anything STUPID!
The shouting went on, but Lily had managed to run out of the Great Hall, with the angry envelope wrestling in her two hands.
"What was that?" Rose turned to Albus, who looked in as much confusion and astonishment as she did.
"No idea," he shook his head.
"What did she steal from James?" she asked perplexed, amazed there would be something Lily would be willing to steal from her brother. "Do you suppose she was trying to get back at him for something?"
Albus shrugged. "Who knows. All they do is fight, anyway. Maybe this is just James' way of telling her he misses her," Albus concluded uninterestedly, driving his attention once again to the Daily Prophet while reaching for a mug of pumpkin juice.
Rose frowned and turned back to the entrance of the Great Hall, where Lily had stormed out. As she turned herself back she caught sight of the Slytherin table, where she spotted Scorpius listening to Thomas speak. She concluded her stare must have been a heavy one, for he looked up and caught her glance, smiling softly at her. She smiled back before turning her body around to resume her position in the table.
"I'm heading out. Are you coming?" she asked Albus. He nodded, while he arranged his newspaper. Rose placed her lavender vile inside the brown box, and arranged her things as well, before getting up from the table.
"Quidditch tryouts next Saturday!" Deema Sharon, a fourth-year Gryffindor, walked past Rose. "Quidditch tryout next Saturday," she repeated, handing her one of the parchments.
"What's this?" Rose asked.
"Lily has me handing them out," the girl rolled her eyes.
"Quidditch," she smiled. Jane O'Hara, Gryffindor's chaser had just graduated, leaving the spot for chaser wide open. Having played as a chaser for the team for almost three years, it struck Rose as too good an opportunity to miss.
"Rose!" a sweet, soft voice said behind her. She turned to find Anya, Neville and Hanna's daughter, one year younger than Rose and Albus. Anya's long blondish hair fell down her shoulders. She was not very tall and wore a kind smile that lit her light brown eyes.
"How are you, Anya?" Rose grinned.
"I'm great!" the girl said, oddly ecstatic. Anya's character was usually very timid. She was a quiet sort of girl, of very few but highly introspective words.
"Glad to see you so cheerful," Rose said, as she placed the box Audrey had sent her in her bag. She proceeded to fold the parchment of the Quidditch tryout announcement in half and put it away inside the front pocket of her bag as well. "Nice holiday?" she asked. Usually, the Longbottoms would be invited to her house or Albus' house during the summer, for tea, birthdays or a family dinner. This time, though, there hadn't been many gatherings. Rose's parents and uncles had decided it was safer that way.
"It was ok, a little quiet," she replied, pressing two books against her chest.
"Same here," Rose grunted.
"I have news, though!" Anya went on to say and removed the books from her chest to reveal a shiny badge that read Prefect, over the Hufflepuff house seal.
Rose grudged for a moment to the sight but changed her reaction fast. "That's great!" she expressed. "Congratulations, you'll be brilliant."
"I thought maybe later you could give me some pointers," Anya said, obviously oblivious that Rose was no longer part of the Prefect and Head Girl family.
"Yes, of course, anytime you want," she said. "How did it go with your OWLs last year?" She said changing the subject.
"It went well," she replied in relief. "I got several Es and well— most subjects were ok," she stated.
"What about Defense Against the Dark Arts?" she inquired. Rose recalled how she had tried to help Anya with the subject. Still, between Rose's studies, her immersion into figuring out who the author of the mysterious letters she was receiving was and— Scorpius, her time had been too conflicted to give Anya all the support she needed.
"Well, not great but—" she shrugged, but didn't finish the sentence.
"Anya, I'm sorry," Rose resented.
"No! Rose, it's not your fault! It's just not my, well, I'm not good. Besides— Professor Perry doesn't like me, so—"
"—Professor Perry doesn't like anyone who's not a Slytherin," Albus said joining the conversation, as he shoved his bag over his shoulder.
"Hi Albus," she said quietly.
"Don't worry about Perry. He puts up a show to intimidate you."
"Yes, he's very good at that," she said sadly, holding her two books tightly between her hands.
"He's not so bad. If you get your grades up he'll stop bothering you, you'll see."
"Al is one of Perry's favourites," Rose said, rolling her eyes. Professor Olixander Perry, head of the Slytherin house, was a brilliant man. He was also very strict and was highly intolerant of students who did not follow his directions —in some cases, his thoughts— word by word. For the most part, he was known for favouring Slytherins, to the point that he signed permission parchments to allow Scorpius and other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team to train almost every night after permitted hours. Something Rose considered highly unfair.
Regardless of the professor's cold character, Albus had managed to win Perry's respect. It took him two years, and several unpleasant incidents, but he escalated to be at the top of the class, which they shared with Ravenclaw, and among the top of their year. Professor Perry's open acceptance of Albus was such that he once had jokingly said that Albus had 'most certainly been missorted'; this was after Albus had flawlessly resolved one of Perry's horrid tests, full of trick questions designed for "the cunning mind", as he liked to call them. Rose had dreaded the comment, but Albus had chuckled, ignored it and never mentioned it again— as he did with just about everything. Rose had always thought Albus had a talent for letting things slide and shutting out any prejudice held against him.
"I'm telling you, if he sees you're trying to improve your grades, he'll cut you some slack."
"Right," Anya said, discouraged. "Well, I tried last year, but—"
"You didn't ask me to tutor you last year," he stated, raising his hands. Anya widened her eyes, and opened her mouth, but nothing came out of it. "I told you I could help you out."
"I don't want to bother you—" she said.
"So you're going to reject me?" Albus joked. Rose could see a mortified expression building on Anya's face.
"Anya, I think you should accept it. Sounds like Al is willing," she widened her eyes. Anya said nothing.
"Yeah, sure. No problem. I have a free period on Thursdays. We'll meet in the library, or wherever you want," he shrugged carelessly.
"O—Ok," she whispered shyly.
"Brilliant," Rose let out, smiling at Anya.
"We should get going, Rose," Albus announced, turning to her.
"That was nice," Rose said on their way out. "You, offering to help."
"Why wouldn't I? It's Anya," he said distractedly. "Weren't you helping her last year?"
"Barely," she retorted. "I— was too distracted. We spent most of the time talking about the—writer," she said, bearing the unpleasant chill that drove up to her spine.
"The word is stalker," Albus corrected.
"I don't want to talk about that."
"We don't have time, anyway. We've got Transfiguration."
The morning went by excruciatingly slow. Rose and Albus weren't talking as much, which made her uncomfortable. She focused on her classes and jotted down on her parchments as much information as she could. And yet, time managed to play tricks on her mind. She was anxious, eager, waiting for the next thing.
She had a quiet lunch with Albus and parted ways afterwards. He had left his Potions book in the common room and went back to retrieve it. Rose, on the other hand, decided to make an early entrance in the Potions classroom.
She walked down the hall, secretly glad she wasn't with Albus at that moment, and openly wishing to run into Scorpius on her way to class. Her chest burned once she heard two voices in the distance. She recognised them immediately.
"What I'm saying is—" Thomas argued.
"—I understood you the first three times you said it," Scorpius cut him.
She stood still, waiting for the owners of the voices to show themselves. As the pair appeared around the corner and walked closer to Rose, Scorpius' eyes locked with her own. Thomas, on the other hand, had his eyes buried in a piece of parchment.
"Hey," Rose whispered, once they reached her. Scorpius smiled as Thomas looked up for a moment.
"Hey, Rose," Thomas greeted her, looking down at his parchment again.
"Ready?" she asked Scorpius softly.
"Let's go," he replied in a satisfied tone.
"What?" Thomas looked up again. "Ah— no you don't, Rose. You can't have him right now. We have a class to get to."
"Yes, Potions," she said plainly.
"No. We have Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"No, I have Scorpius for Potions—I mean—no, I mean with."
Rose felt the blood crawl up her body, thick under her skin. An intense smirk grew on Scorpius' face, while Thomas looked at his parchment again, apparently missing Rose's statement.
"I have to go, mate," Scorpius said to Thomas.
"Bloody—I'm looking at the wrong day—" Thomas said absently.
"See you, then," Scorpius said, taking off. Rose followed by his side, biting her lower lip intensely. For a moment, she prayed he didn't say anything.
"That was— nice," Scorpius said in a short, soft chuckle.
"Don't even—" she snapped. "With! I meant to say with!"
"You have Scorpius with Potions?" he asked, performing a face of confusion.
"NO! Shut up—" she buried her face in her palms.
"Alright, alright. I'll shut up," he retorted softly in a smile. They walked in silence. Rose felt the heat on her neck, suffocating her. They reached the door to the Potions classroom, and she looked at him, inadvertently daring him to speak again. Scorpius gestured with his hand, inviting her to go inside. She breathed and walked in.
"For what it's worth," he whispered, as he followed her. "You can have me for whatever you want," he declared. Rose blushed again, but this time pressed her lips tightly together to hold back a smirk.
"How delightful," a deep voice protested plainly. Rose and Scorpius turned abruptly, startled. Their Potions professor, Harold Maddock, stood still, close to the door, arms crossed. His round glasses did not cover the unimpressed look that always characterised him.
"—Professor," Scorpius said. "I'm really sorry. I—this isn't—I was just," he went on to ramble words that did not form into one coherent excuse. Rose had never heard him ramble like that, ever. But at least he was trying to say something. Rose's mortification had muted her completely.
"—Do you suppose," Maddock interrupted Scorpius' verbiage. "—That you two may be capable of keeping your thoughts to yourselves for two hours?"
"Yes, sir, of course," Scorpius cleared his throat. Rose nodded.
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy, Miss Weasley," he said in a stern face. "I'll be forever obliged," his head moved in what seemed like a soft, somewhat sarcastic half vow. He gestured with his hand, and both Scorpius and Rose took it as a direction to search for their table.
Rose rushed to the end of the classroom. They had arrived early, so few tables in the room were occupied. She sat down, abruptly, and buried her face under the palms of her hands. Her cheeks burned her skin.
"I'm sorry, Rose," Scorpius muttered, slowly sitting down next to her.
"It's—fine," she said, removing her hands to uncover her face. "It's nothing," she shook her head.
"I didn't mean to put you in that position," he insisted.
"I—It's fine, leave it."
"You're—"
"—Very red, I know. Give it a few minutes." She breathed in deeply. She turned to look straight at him, for the first time since she had walked to find her seat. He was looking at her, like searching for a sign. His face was paler than usual.
She released a modest laugh, and he smiled in return. His soft, embarrassed grin made her feel more comfortable already.
"What was it again— that thing you were saying?" she teased.
"You heard me," Scorpius responded softly, turning his face to look at the front of the classroom. "—And Maddock, and bloody knows who else," he said, repressing a laugh.
She smiled and shook her head. "I did hear you," she said. "—And I'll keep it in mind," she added, turning to look upfront herself, determined to put on her best behaviour during class. She didn't look at him again for a while, but she sensed he was grinning.
During their Potions class, time passed meticulously slower than it had that same morning, but in a strangely gratifying sort of way. Whatever Maddock wrote on the board, she scribbled down on her parchment, whether it made any sense to her or not. When he asked the class to turn to a page, she would turn to it. Whatever direction he gave, she would do; not processing any of it.
Her body was utterly aware of how close Scorpius was to her, and the tension consumed her. She could sense his every movement; anytime he breathed in, or rearranged his leg under the desk, moved his elbow, or placed his hand close to hers. She'd smile now and then, her eyes faking concentration on the board.
The room felt inevitably warm, a common characteristic of the Potions' classroom. She took her hands to her hair, and arranged it neatly, shoving it over her left shoulder, exposing her neck to fresh air. With both her hands she took the long layers of curls that now hung over the left side of her chest. She tightened her locks, and as she released her grip, she left the index of her left hand, playing softly with the longest one of her reddish curls. She sensed his glare, too heavy to ignore, and when turning her eyes slightly to her right, she confirmed he was staring at her. She smiled.
During class, she managed to capture a thing or two of Professor Maddock's detailed description of the herbs and oils that could be found in the Siberian forest, along with their properties and benefits. All very useful —she thought— was she ever to find herself stranded in Siberia.
The class ended to her surprising regret. After the Professor dismissed the students, both Rose and Scorpius found themselves sitting still on the desk they were sharing.
"What now?" he asked her softly, with a voice of sorrow that matched her mood.
"I've got Care for Magical Creatures," she said, wrinkling her nose. "You?"
"Divination," he resented.
She chuckled. "If you hate it so much you should have dropped it," she taunted.
"Why don't you drop Care for Magical Creatures, then?"
"It would crush Hagrid," she admitted.
"See, it's the same. Dropping Divination would please Lucius. He says it's a waste of brainpower."
She laughed softly. "It's not the same. My intentions are good."
"You're right," he retorted in a smirk. "It's not the same." Rose shook her head in disapproval.
"Mr Malfoy, Miss Weasley, please pardon my rude manners. Perhaps I can fetch you a pot of tea," Professor Maddock had dryly said. The teacher sat on his desk. The classroom had emptied. Everyone had left except for Rose and Scorpius.
"I'm sorry sir— we were just leaving," Scorpius said in a rush, as he took his bag and stood up from the desk.
"Please come upfront. I need to talk to both of you," he ordered.
Rose shut her eyes tightly for a second, before placing her parchment, inkwell and quill inside her bag. She stood up and strolled with Scorpius to the professor's desk. Maddock sat patiently, his elbows firmly on the wood of his desk. The fingertips of both hands pressed against one another.
"Sir?" Scorpius said calmly once they both reached the desk.
"I expect you two to behave accordingly in my class. Mr Malfoy, I've always admired your discretion, talent, and keen capacity to concentrate. Miss Weasley—" he turned to look at Rose. "—Your commitment and perseverance have always served you well in my class," he said.
"Thank you— Sir," Rose whispered.
"I should find new partners for you two," he declared.
"Sir—" Scorpius jumped in. "I'm very sorry about earlier, I—"
"—The only thing that stops me from doing so is that— the level of potions you produced last year in my class was outstanding, way above any academic level I've seen," Maddock continued. "I'm giving you a leap of faith. I expect you to focus, and behave like adults— both of you. Do not disappoint me."
"Yes, sir," Scorpius said plainly.
"We won't," Rose promised, a sense of relief restored her.
"I look forward to seeing your work this year. Off you go, then," Maddock finished, gesturing with his hand.
They both walked out in a rush, exited the door and advanced a few steps before stopping to turn to each other.
"That was humiliating," she said, snickering nervously to the look of the shy smile he was wearing.
"I've never seen your face so red," he teased. "Well— except maybe for that time when you stormed out of a class, yelling at me— I forget what it was for," he said in concentration.
"Shut up!" she demanded. "—And, I don't know what you're talking about. I've never stormed out of class to yell at you," she alleged.
"Oh, but you did, a couple of years ago."
"What?— Why?" She asked.
"I never knew," he shrugged. "I was so baffled by the fact that you were talking to me, that I could barely pay attention to a thing you were saying."
Rose chuckled. "You… fancied me back then?"
Scorpius grinned plainly. "A bit," he said in a soft, seemingly guilty grin, slightly squinting his eyes.
She felt the blush spread across her neck. "Anyway," she changed the subject in an attempt to control her rush of emotions. "Professor Maddock can be very nasty at times," she said.
"Brilliant man, though," Scorpius argued. "Best professor here, for sure."
"So… you're admitting the best professor at school is not a Slytherin," she pointed out, bringing back the fact that Maddock's alma mater was in Ravenclaw.
"Yes, Rose, I'm admitting the best professor is not a Slytherin," he paused "—or a Gryffindor."
"Oh, no, we wouldn't be able to stand that, would we?" she teased in sarcasm. "He seems to think highly of you," Rose said.
Scorpius gave her a tight, half-smile. "Maddock is— perceptive. He encouraged me to develop my skills in potion making, during my first year here— when I was...lost. He's one of the good ones."
"Ravenclaws?"
"Professors, Rose. What's with that obsession of yours with the houses? Our sorting is nothing more than odds, tied to the disposition of an old, smelly hat."
Rose frowned. "Do you really believe that?" She said disconcerted.
He shrugged and looked up, above her shoulder. His face, pleasant and soft up until that moment, turned solemn in an instant.
"So, when do you think you'll be able to get rid of that boyfriend of yours?" Scorpius said plainly, raising his chin.
"What—?" She turned back abruptly and saw Hendrick, standing meters away from the entrance of the castle, right down the road she had to take to reach Hagrid's hut. For the past hours, she had completely forgotten about his existence. "Oh— No! That's not funny," she said, turning back to Scorpius. "Don't call him that! You of all people."
"He really is keeping a close eye on you," he said.
"I can't stand his face. I just want to punch it," she admitted.
Scorpius laughed. "Do me a favour and don't punch the Auror, Rose." he shook his head softly. "I'll have to think of something to get some alone time with you," he said, tucking his hands in his pockets, still staring in the Auror's direction.
"And where would we go?" She wondered out loud, holding tight to her Potions book.
"If I could get rid of him," he sighed, "I'd ask you to meet me at our spot."
Rose smiled to the memory of their afternoons by the lake, in a lonesome part of the grounds, surrounded by low bushes, and protected by a very discreet old oak tree. "That would be nice," she said in a soft grin.
"So be it," he smirked and walked up to her. Once he was close enough, he slipped his right hand out of his pocket. The back of his hand moved softly to touch hers, sizzling her skin. "I'll see you."
Rose twisted her lips, to the delicate feel of his warm hand.
"Don't do that," he begged in a whisper, staring at her mouth as he wrinkled his forehead. She pressed her lips together. "I— better go," he said, taking a step back. He gave her one last smile before turning around to walk away and turn around the corner of the hall.
Rose released a strong sigh and waited a few seconds before taking off herself. She passed by the Auror, as she walked out of the castle. She tried to ignore his presence, but as she headed downhill, she was struck by the unpleasant feeling that he was following her. She turned to confirm her predictions.
"You don't have to follow me," she snapped at him. The Auror stopped cold, meters away from her. "I know there's another one of you guarding the grounds, so you shouldn't even be out here," she then claimed. Hendrick looked at her, a puzzled look developing in his face as if thinking of a fast retort. "Besides, Hagrid won't like having you there. If I were you, I'd keep my distance," she threatened, managing to lie about Hagrid's character, who would not hurt a dead fly.
The Auror straightened his posture and took a step back.
"Ok," she murmured to herself, as she turned back to resume the trail. "That was— easy." She looked back after a few seconds. To her amazement, he had not moved from where he was standing.
She reached the foot of the hill, and walked to Hagrid's hut, pleasantly pleased with the outcome. She only found Albus, sitting on the bark of an old, felled tree, going through the Daily Prophet, biting through an apple.
"Al, what are you doing here? Where's everyone?"
"You're late," he announced, folding his paper in half.
"Five minutes, not an hour late," she retorted.
"Hagrid moved the class to the forest. Everybody's there. I was waiting for you so you'd know," he simply said, taking another bite of the apple.
"Oh— thanks. Honestly, what would I do without you..."
He shrugged. "Beats me. I thought you were skipping class," he said.
"Of course not— hold on, what about you? You skipped Potions!" She realised, remembering she had not seen him in the classroom.
"Seriously, Rose?" he looked at her. "I was four tables in front of you."
"You were? Are you sure?" She said perplexed.
"Yes," he answered dryly. "I'm sure I was there. You were already in the classroom when Henry and I walked in. For Merlin's sake, it's like you two stupefy each other," he shook his head.
"Alright...no need to get aggressive," she said and caught Albus staring at the top of the hill.
"Is that your Auror?" He asked.
"I don't have an Auror —And, yes. That's him."
"Why is he standing there, like a scarecrow?"
"Well...he stuns easily— apparently," she said, grabbing Albus by the elbow. "Come on, let's go, or we'll miss getting chased, attacked or eaten by something," she dreaded.
"Don't worry. Hagrid said he'd save us the best Glumbumble," he said in excitement. She looked at him, amazed by how Albus' thrill towards Hagrid's pets could bring him back to sounding like he was 11, all over again.
"Sounds...brilliant," she said in disgust.
o0o
When Rose opened her eyes the next morning, she checked the clock on her nightstand. She was still on time. She pressed her palm against her forehead, her eyelids still heavy. Audrey's drops had done the trick— for most of the night. She had fallen asleep in absolute tranquillity, and had, as promised, enjoyed a dreamless sleep. But at some point through the night, Gerard's yellowish eyes had returned to haunt her. She could remember herself trying to run, not being able to move her feet. His teeth, close to her face, his trembling voice terrorising her. She woke up abruptly, as usual, but had managed to fall asleep again.
With less exasperation than the day before, she got ready, strutted out the common room, down the moving staircases, across the halls, past the Auror, and into the Great Hall.
"Hey," she said to Albus, once she sat down at the Gryffindor table. He looked at her and gestured with his head.
"Feel better?"
"Not really," she said, in exhaustion.
"Quidditch tryouts!" Deema was shouting as she passed by them.
"Again?" Rose asked when Deema handed her the same pamphlet as the day before. The girl shrugged. "I took one yesterday, thanks", Rose said. "I'll be there," she stated. Deema smiled.
"Great! I'll tell Lily we have someone. She's a little—"
"Intense," Rose finished.
Deema nodded and turned to Albus to offer him a pamphlet. "Quidditch—"
"—No way in hell," Albus cut her. The girl widened her eyes and moved away to keep up with her task.
"You want to join the team again?" Albus frowned when asking.
"You suggested a hobby," she shrugged. "This is just— clearly better."
"Clearly. This involves your grim boyfriend," he said in a mockery grin.
"Actually— when you think about it, I'll barely see him. We'll have to practice at different times, and my schedule will be tight," she analyzed. "In all fairness, we won't meet at the pitch, except for a few matches."
"Right…" he suspiciously said.
"—And, he's not grim," she corrected.
Albus released a sudden laugh, to Rose's surprise. "I thought you weren't going to pick up on that." Rose smiled, she was glad Albus was back to teasing around with her. Judgmental Al was her least favourite kind of Albus.
"At least uncle Ron will be thrilled," he then said. Rose dropped her smile.
"Who knows," she retorted bitterly. Albus frowned but said nothing.
Rose was feeling much more comfortable already. Any tension she had felt between her and Albus had faded that same morning. During herbology, they had been assigned to care for a newly germinated Venomous Tentacula. They would have to care for it the next months until it reached maturity. She had received a small pot from Neville, from where a tiny stem poked out of the dirt. The newborn plant seemed harmless, especially when it feistily tried to slap Albus on the thumb.
The rest of the day went by pleasantly, and by late afternoon, Rose and Albus departed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the last subject of the day, heading for the courtyard for some fresh air.
"It's going to be wicked, you'll see," Albus said in aw, referring to Professor Perry's plan for the year."
"I guess…But if you ask me, we'll spend too much time analysing spells, moves, techniques, and very little performing them."
"But that's the thing! It's all in studying the mind of your enemy, innit? It's bloody brilliant! What better way to learn defence than to master the art of tricking your opponent?"
"I suppose you're right…" she doubted.
"And wait until we start with Oclumancy."
"Sure—but—"
"—What?"
"It all takes too long...If I were to run into a threatening wizard now, none of that would help me, would it?"
"Well, they're not exactly training us to march into war. They teach us to understand Dark Arts and to defend ourselves."
"Right."
"Is it Gerard? Is that who you're thinking of?"
"Last year— I got out by mere luck."
Albus gestured with his head. "You were pretty lucky...but— honestly, it had a lot to do with Scorpius."
"I know."
"I mean, he's pretty fast at duelling, and he didn't even mutter any spells, something we were just starting to learn then."
"You mentioned it," She said softly.
"He didn't come across as a sixth-year student, I'll tell you that."
Rose held her glance on Albus' eyes for a moment, as they walked silently towards the main courtyard. Rose glanced over her shoulder, the Auror was standing near a corner, at the end of the hallway, inside the building. She was certain he would stay there. She knew he would not follow her outside the castle again.
Rose and Albus found a bench to sit on in the courtyard. The wind was soft, warm as if whispering the last breath of summer.
"It's a beautiful afternoon," she said with regret, contemplating the immensity of the lake in the distance.
"Precious," Albus retorted distractedly, placing his bag on the bench. "Hey, I can only stay for a while. I'm playing Henry and Cameron in a round of exploding snap. Can't miss it. I already put money in it."
"I should probably head for the library and get some work done," she sighed. "If I do make the team I won't have as much time to study."
"It's weird you're doing this the year of our NEWTS when you quit Quidditch because you wanted to prepare for the OWLs."
"Yeah, well—I need something to get my mind off things— Besides, It's our last year, I might as well have some fun."
"Right, " he looked at her.
"ROSE!" Lily had spotted them. She pranced in a rush to reach Rose and Albus.
"Hey lil—"
"Tell me—" Lily jumped right in. "Is it true or not?"
"What is—"
"Are you trying out for the team? Is it true?"
"Yes, I thought about trying out again—"
"AaaHHHh! This is brilliant!"
"Lil—"
"Which position? Chaser, right? You have to be a chaser again—"
"Li—"
"This is perfect. This is just what we need in the team."
"I don't know that I'll—"
"Don't expect me to favour you, though. You better train before tryouts and earn it."
"That's my point. I don't know if I'll make the cut. I haven't really played much in a while—"
"Then what are you doing here? Go train! Go!"
"What? No! I'm not going right now—"
"Rose, you better make the team," Lily threatened, pointing fiercely at her.
"Make the team?" a deep voice said behind Rose. She turned around abruptly.
Scorpius had approached the group. His blond hair messed and tangled, gloves still on, his sweater slightly covered in dirt, and his broom in his right hand.
"Yes, I might try out," she whispered.
"Well, are you or aren't you trying out?" Lily asked in annoyance.
Rose turned to Scorpius again. "I guess, I am, " she confirmed.
"Interesting," he replied, a silk smile on his face.
"You sure don't waste any time. Two days in and you're already training?" Rose questioned.
Scorpius shrugged. "Keeps me busy," he declared. "Hi Albus, Lily."
"Hey," they both replied in unison.
A short silence followed, and Rose caught Scorpius glancing back at the grounds, where he had arrived from, and then the lake.
"Nice day," he said, still staring at the lake, then driving his soft glance in Rose's direction. "We won't have many afternoons like these for a while."
"I was just saying that," Rose added. Scorpius smiled at her and then looked up front, over Lily's shoulder. His glare became firm, and Rose assumed he had spotted the Auror inside the archway.
"I have to go," he said, still looking at Hendrick in the distance. "I might see you later, " he then stared back at Rose. "Alright?" His eyes were steady, his sight strong. Rose nodded, without much understatement of what she was nodding to.
"Sure," she said faintly. He grinned and walked towards the entrance.
"You two are into weather, then," Albus mocked once Scorpius had left.
"See that, Rose? That is a person who is focused on winning the cup," Lily told Rose.
"Lil, I'm not even in the team yet. Besides, you said you weren't going to favour me."
"You better make it into that team," Lily said.
"Right," Rose said, slightly annoyed by now. "Oh, wait— I haven't had the chance to ask you— why did James send you that howler?"
"— No reason," she quickly replied.
"No reason?" Albus cut in, frowning at his sister. "He said you stole something from him. The whole bloody school heard it."
"What was it, Lily?"
"Nothing! James being James, you know, being a big git," she assured. "Rose, be ready for Saturday!" she repeated and took off in a hurry.
"She'll be worse than James, won't she?" Rose asked.
"Yeah," Albus retorted. "Hey, I have to leave," he said as he stood up and threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder.
"I guess I'll go to the library, then," she claimed weakly and stood up to follow him.
They reached the archway together and then took off on opposite directions. But as Albus walked away from her, Rose realised something was different. She turned, to the last place where she had spotted the Auror in, and found it empty. She wondered her eyes around the area, estranged he would choose to leave when she was still technically outdoors. She turned several times, but she didn't see him anyplace nearby.
She was alone, and she suddenly knew just the place she had to go to.
o0o
Song: 'Sucker', by Jonas Brothers.