Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling
Chapter 6: Encounters
When the Gryffindors descended to their common room the next morning, they found a new piece of parchment nailed to the noticeboard that read: N.E.W.T. Alchemy, with a series of blank spaces below for names. Rose Weasley pushed through the cluster of younger years and, producing a quill, signed her name eagerly on the first space.
"Is that your eighth subject now?" Cassie said sceptically, from beside her.
"I think so," Rose said brightly, replacing her quill and glancing at the announcement beside the Alchemy sheet. "Oh, look - Quidditch tryouts on Saturday!"
"Yeah," said James Potter, appearing out of nowhere to stand beside them, hands in pockets, "I was going to leave it a while but apparently the new Slytherin captain's already got the pitch booked tomorrow for his team's tryouts. Can't let them have the advantage. You've no cause to worry, though, Miller." He winked at her, then caught sight of Rose's name on the Alchemy sheet, and rounded on his cousin. "Are you seriously taking up extra lessons with him?"
"Well, it seems like a fascinating subject," Rose said defensively. "Professor Nott's father may have been a Death Eater, but that's not his fault. Goyle's been assistant groundskeeper for years now, and he was very nearly a Death Eater himself. Anyway, the Headmaster would hardly have hired Nott if he posed any threat to the school."
The Quidditch captain raised his eyebrows at her. "I never said he did. But he was in the same year as your parents, another of Draco Malfoy's pals, you know. He might not have taken any part in the Battle of Hogwarts, but when the Death Eaters took over the school he went along with it all the same. And that's the worst kind of person: someone who doesn't stand up to either side. A coward."
"Worse than someone like Lord Voldemort, who did stand up to the other side?" Rose said incredulously, but her cousin merely shrugged.
"He's a rotten apple, coz. That's all I'm saying. Better go down to breakfast." He strolled away with some seventh-years and Rose glanced at Cassie. She was still staring at the tryouts sheet, her face pale, while other younger students gathered around her, pointing it out to each other and talking eagerly amongst themselves about their chances.
"You heard him, Cass. There's no need to worry."
"Right," her friend repeated in a monotone as they made their way through the common room. "No need to worry."
Rose frowned as she climbed through the portrait-hole. When Cassie emerged, pinning her dark hair back, she said confusedly, "Is everything all right?"
"Perfect," her friend said bitterly. "Just perfect."
She did not say anything more all the way down to breakfast, as they passed down the wide staircase through the castle with the rest of the Gryffindors, the portraits on the walls calling out merry greetings to them. Rose was relieved when Rory Finnigan caught up with them in the entrance hall, his sandy hair dishevelled with sleep.
"Hey, did you hear about Quidditch tryouts?" he said cheerfully. "I was thinking of trying out for Chaser this year. D'you think I might have a chance? Lewis outflew me last year, I know, but I've been practising all summer and – "
"Good for you," Cassie said flatly, before moving off ahead of them, through the double doors. Rory glanced at Rose, taken aback, who was frowning after their friend.
"What's up with her?" he said, startled, as they followed her into the Great Hall. The tables were already crowded with students eating breakfast, the ceiling far above a cloud-streaked blue.
"I don't know," she sighed. "But I'm going to find out."
However, when she reached the Gryffindor table, she saw that her friend had deliberately sat away from her, hemmed in by chattering first-years. Biting her lip, Rose squeezed in between Albus and Jackie, the latter of whom was checking her reflection in a spoon.
"Why's Cassie sitting over there?" Albus asked through a mouthful of cereal as the owls flew in the windows with the morning post. "Did you have an argument?"
"She seemed like she was upset about something earlier in the dormitory," Jackie remarked, putting the spoon down as a copy of The Daily Prophet was dropped into her lap by a snowy owl.
"Did she?" Rose felt a pang of guilt. Her mind had been so occupied with the Aurors and Malfoy and her mother that she had not noticed anything amiss with her friend. "We didn't argue, but - " She stopped short at Jackie's sharp intake of breath. "What is it?"
Jackie had unfolded The Daily Prophet and was staring at the front page. "You might want to look at this," she said, her voice unusually quiet, then passed the paper to Rose, who held out a trembling hand.
Albus leaned over her shoulder, and together they read the headline: Astoria Malfoy Found Guilty of Attempted Murder. Beneath it, a black-haired, green-eyed witch gazed up at them calmly, though her wrists were shackled. "Oh, Merlin," Rose murmured. "Fifteen years in Azkaban…"
"In my day, attempted murder was punishable by death," said a thoughtful voice behind them, and they turned to see Nearly Headless Nick, hovering on Jackie's other side. "A particularly gruesome death, at that. Fifteen years is nothing in comparison."
"It's long enough," Albus said in an undertone, as the ghost floated away down the crowded table. He turned to look at Rose, who was still scanning the article. "What do you think?"
"I don't… I don't know," she said weakly, scanning the article, which detailed the evidence that had led to Astoria Malfoy's conviction. Those sitting near them at the table had gone quiet; Penny Alderton was gazing at them with wide eyes a few seats away, and Rory Finnigan looked solemn. Even throughout the Great Hall, she thought she could sense a hush falling over the students as they received their Daily Prophets.
When she had finished the article, she handed the paper back to Jackie wordlessly. Phrases she had just read were flying around in her head – false evidence, forged invitation, Bloodroot poison, Death Eater husband, ancient grudge against the Weasleys... Glancing down the table, Rose caught her brother's eye. Hugo stared back at her for a moment. He looked relieved, almost happy. The way she should be feeling. After all, her mother was no longer in danger. Astoria Malfoy had been caught. This was what she had been hoping for.
So why did it feel so… wrong?
It was possibly the most difficult breakfast Scorpius had ever sat through.
His friends were a help – Torrance swore at a group of third-years who were eagerly discussing the news nearby, Orchid tossed her own Daily Prophet away in disgust after reading the headline, while Jem and Nina attempted to draw Scorpius into a conversation about the subjects they were taking. Even Santini started loudly announcing the Quidditch tryout requirements to anyone who was listening, though that may have been to remind everyone that he was the new captain.
Scorpius was so used to being stared at by now that he barely noticed it anymore. What was strange today, however, was that no one in the Hall seemed to want to look at him. He thought he would prefer that, but the absence of stares made him feel even more conspicuous, as though he were being marked as a target by the rest of the school. When Professor Nott came striding over to the sixth-years at the end of breakfast with their timetables, Scorpius felt a wave of inexpressible relief.
"Are you our new Head of House?" one of Orchid's friends, Laura Runcorn, a girl with long hair like burnished copper, asked curiously as the professor passed her.
"I am," he replied. His voice was lower, more fluid than Scorpius had been expecting. He hadn't had the chance to tell his father last night about their new Potions teacher, though he knew the former classmates had not seen each other in years. Not many of his father's old acquaintances kept up with him these days. He doubted Theodore Nott would want to acknowledge the connection to anyone.
Sure enough, when Nott reached him, his long, thin face was carefully blank. "Scorpius Malfoy," he said, flipping through his notes. "Well, with an 'O' in almost every subject, you have many options. If you have any idea which subjects you wish to take already, it would make the process much faster…"
"Astronomy, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes and Divination." Scorpius rattled off the list smoothly. "Also, I'm interested in taking up Alchemy, sir. I've already signed the sheet." Professor Nott blinked at him in some surprise, then composed his features and nodded, waving his wand at a blank timetable so that his new subjects appeared there, and handing it to him.
"So you're doing Divination?" Jem asked him incredulously a few minutes later, when they were on their way to Ancient Runes. "Do you really believe in all that stuff?"
Scorpius shrugged, as they reached the top of the moving staircase and stepped onto the sixth floor. He made an effort to forget the events of breakfast (and last night) and focus on what Jem was saying. "Firenze's a really good teacher. Since Trelawney retired, the course has been a lot more astrology-based, and I like that. My dad doesn't know I'm doing it, though – if he did, he'd kill me."
"Right." Jem sounded a bit uncomfortable. Adjusting the strap of his satchel, he hastily changed the subject. "I signed up for Alchemy too, by the way. The first lesson's next Monday, he told me. Doubt many people will want to take on the extra work, though."
"I thought you'd be relieved!"
The voice reached them as they rounded the corner, and Scorpius stiffened; outside the doorway of the Ancient Runes classroom, Rose Weasley stood in earnest conversation with someone whom he recognised as her younger brother.
"I am relieved," she replied, her voice so low Scorpius could barely hear it, "Of course I am, I just…"
She looked up, catching sight of the two Slytherins. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to say anything, though his hand itched towards his wand. "Go," she said hastily to her brother. "Hugo, get to class."
The Weasley boy turned to face them as they reached the doorway, and his eyes were dark with hostility. Tall and gangly, he could not have been more than fourteen, but there was something in the way he held himself, the way he stared at Scorpius… that made him uneasy. He was relieved when they passed him and entered the half-filled classroom, as Professor Babbling began lecturing them about tardiness.
"That was strange," Jem muttered as they took their seats by the window.
Scorpius did not reply, pulling out Complex Runology and placing it on the table with his quill. He felt inexplicably shaken by the encounter, even though he had no reason to be. After all, the boy was no more than fourteen and posed no possible threat to him.
It was only when Professor Babbling had them draw out a section of the second runic alphabet that he realised what it was. Behind the hatred in the Weasley boy's eyes, there had lurked something else. That same unstable emotion that had briefly governed his mother when she was urging him to believe her.
With a jolt, he remembered the red mark she had left on his wrist that day, and automatically rubbed the skin there, pausing in his work. Hostility was straightforward, and easily recognised. But desperation… desperation was unpredictable, and erratic. Desperation was altogether more dangerous to him.
The air in the Potions dungeon was sharp with anticipation as Rose and Albus entered after lunch. The professor had not arrived yet, and the rest of the students filed in group by group. There were no more than fifteen people taking the class at N.E.W.T. level, most of them Slytherins or Ravenclaws. Summer Birchgrove was the only Hufflepuff, chatting to Diana Turpin in the corner. Rose noticed her cousin's eyes slide over to her momentarily as they passed, and suppressed a smirk.
"Looking forward to patrolling tonight?" she asked Albus as they took one of the benches towards the front of the classroom, heaving her cauldron onto it, with her books inside. He started, and shook his head.
"No. You?"
"I'm not patrolling till Friday," Rose said confidently. "But I think I can manage a swap before then. I'm going to talk to Lucy and see if I can - "
"Tomorrow's Friday," Albus said, looking slightly amused. "And besides, Robbins said we couldn't swap. Lucy's not going to make an exception for you because you're her cousin, either; she's not that kind of person."
Rose sighed. "I know, but I have to do something. You know I can't patrol with him, not after everything that's happened."
"Having second thoughts, Weasley?" She had spoken more loudly than she had intended, and Torrance Bole had stopped on his way back from the ingredients cupboard to listen. He leaned against the desk opposite theirs, watching her with disconcertingly thoughtful eyes. "Don't worry, he doesn't like you either."
"I wasn't talking to you, Bole," Rose said sharply. "If you don't mind, we were having a private conversation."
"Oh, do forgive me," Torrance said cordially. "My manners aren't as polished as they should be…"
"Clear off, Bole," she said again in a monotone. He smiled. It was not a nice smile.
"You know, I don't think I will."
She tensed. "I'm warning you, Bole - "
"Torrance." Malfoy appeared at his side, his face set like stone. He did not even look at Rose and Albus. "Leave them. They're not worth getting a detention for."
The class had suddenly gone very quiet. Bole straightened up, and turned to Malfoy, who was a head taller.
"I don't know, Scorpius…" he said slowly. "I think someone needs to stand up to them. Or at least to her." He looked at Rose again, and she stared back, unblinking, though she was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable. He narrowed his dark eyes. "Tell me, Weasley, do you enjoy getting people's mothers thrown into Azkaban?"
The words stung, more so because of their truth. Rose clenched her jaw, and forced herself to remain calm, to remain seated. Beside her, she could hear Albus's quick, tense breathing, and could almost imagine what he was thinking. They're trying to provoke you, Rose. Don't let them…
"You certainly seem to be very good at it," Orchid Ottelby added as she joined Malfoy and Bole, tilting her head as she looked at Rose, a grin tugging at her lips. "Maybe you could give us a few tips?"
Rose felt herself flush angrily. "She deserved it," she heard herself say, struggling to keep her voice even. "His mother deserved it. She's a murderer. Now leave us alone."
In a flash of quick movement, Scorpius Malfoy had pulled out his wand and was pointing it at her. There was a collective gasp from their classmates looking on. His face had not changed, yet she could tell that he was furious.
"Take - that - back," he said through gritted teeth, biting each word.
"Or what - you'll curse me?" Rose said sharply, rising to her feet. "Do you really want to risk getting in trouble when you're practically out of the school already? It shocks me that they're keeping you on as a prefect after everything that's happened." She drew her own wand. "Or maybe you'll poison me? That's what your family does to people they don't like, isn't it?"
"Don't threaten me, Weasley," he replied, his voice calmer than before, though she had seen his fist clench white on his wand at her words. His grey eyes locked on hers, cold and indifferent as before. "You're not really in a position to, after all."
"Oh, really?" Rose raised her wand. Behind her, Albus stood and gripped her arm, attempting to hold her back. She jerked free. "So you know something about that, do you?" She studied Malfoy's face, feeling horribly calm. "The position I'm in?"
"Scorpius." Jeremy Sharpwood rose from the back of the classroom, where he and Nina Meyer had been watching the proceedings, pale-faced. "Don't be stupid. Her family's powerful, you know that, you can't mess with them - "
"Didn't stop her mum getting poisoned, though, did it?" Ottelby pointed out from where she stood beside Bole, arms crossed. "Maybe your family isn't as powerful as you'd like to think, Weasley."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Ottelby," Rose said coolly, tightening her grip on the wand. Beside her, she heard a rustle of robes as Albus moved to draw his own wand. She saw Malfoy tense in response, his eyes flicking towards her cousin instead.
Then, before anyone could do or say anything else, the dungeon door opened, and Professor Nott entered. Without even looking at the two students with their wands pointed at each other, he strode past them calmly to his desk. "Please be seated. Ten points from each of your houses. If I catch anyone with their wands out in class again, I will not hesitate to give detention this early in the year. Is that clear?"
In a rush of movement, everyone who had been standing returned to their desks. Rose tucked her wand into her pocket, running her hands over her face and avoiding Albus's gaze. She knew it had been irresponsible to lose her temper like that – it could have cost her a lot more than Housepoints. But the fact that she had finally lashed out at someone gave her a strange kind of release. Aware that Professor Nott was talking about the N.E.W.T. course, she breathed deeply and listened.
"As expected, you will be working this year at a higher level of intensity than ever before," he began in a low voice that she had to strain to hear. "We will be studying a wide range of potions, and I will be setting a realistic time limit to the brewing of each. Not every potion should be made in haste, of course; some, such as the Polyjuice Potion, take months to brew. In these cases I will test you on efficiency of brewing and proper use of time."
He stepped out from behind the desk to face them all, his eyes scanning each face one by one behind his glasses. Rose wondered, briefly, about what James had told her earlier. Had Theodore Nott sympathised with the Death Eaters? Did he still believe those ancient prejudices that no one admitted to anymore, about Muggle-borns and Squibs and Muggles themselves?
"Today, after witnessing a certain – er – hostility between some of you, the potion-making skill I would like to test is cooperation. Potions is an individual subject, that is true, but it is necessary to work with other witches and wizards in all areas of the wizarding world. So, I wish you to divide into pairs – which I will decide…" He ignored the ensuing groans of his pupils, "- and brew the Wiggenweld Potion."
Rose dropped her chin onto her hands. Was everything working against her? She exchanged an apprehensive glance with Albus as Professor Nott began flicking his wand to each of them. The students began to move from their desks as he called out their names. "Birchgrove, with Kloves. Potter, with Turpin. Ottelby, with Davis. Weasley…" (Please not Malfoy. Please not Malfoy. Please -) "…with Meyer."
She exhaled, said a silent prayer of thanks and glanced around at the Slytherin girl, who rose reluctantly from her desk, carrying her Potions kit and scales with her but leaving the cauldron behind. She grunted at Rose to move over, plonked down at the bench and began to sort through the ingredients in her kit.
Rose didn't think she had exchanged two words with Nina Meyer in the five years they had spent together in Hogwarts. She hadn't properly interacted with any of the Slytherins, really, before today - except for Ottelby, and even then, only a few barbed comments had ever been exchanged between them. Apart from that, the Slytherins in their year had largely kept to themselves, staying in their own tightly-knit groups.
"The Wiggenweld Potion is relatively simple to brew," Nott said calmly, sounding as though he were talking more to himself than anyone else as he paced up and down the aisles between the seats. "Its many properties are woven through ancient legends, but today, it is commonly used as an antidote to the Draught of Living Death. The first pair to finish will win ten Housepoints each. You have fifty minutes."
"Right," Rose said briskly, rolling up her sleeves and tying up her hair. "Can you get the page?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meyer thumb through her book silently, then push the page with instructions towards her. All around them, splashes and hisses could already be heard as the other students got their ingredients ready. This was the kind of class environment she loved – tense and competitive. It was strangely calming after earlier, perhaps simply because of its familiarity.
With one hand, Rose poured Horklump juice into the cauldron, while with the other, she kindled a flame with her wand. The sickly yellow liquid began to fizz, and her companion moved to add the salamander blood. Rose held up a hand to stop her. "Not yet," she said. "Wait till the juice has boiled down to half a pint."
"It doesn't say that in the book," Meyer accused, speaking distinctly for the first time.
"It says 'when the Horklump juice has boiled down to a sufficient volume'," Rose said, without taking her eyes off the cauldron. "Half a pint is a sufficient volume; any more than that and the salamander blood would be too diluted. Wait for it - now."
"Three-quarters of a pint would make more sense." She could feel the Slytherin girl's glare, but she obeyed all the same, tipping the phial in, and the liquid turned a thick, gooey red. "The others added theirs ages ago," she complained, glancing around the room. "We'll be the last to finish."
"We won't," Rose said airily, and smiled over at her partner. "If we work together."
As the hour progressed, the air in the dungeon growing more humid and thick around them, much of the rest of the classroom descended into disorder. Summer Birchgrove got a faceful of boiling Boom Berry juice when Kloves added too much to the cauldron, and had to be escorted to the hospital wing, while a foul sulphuric scent drifted over from Albus and Diana Turpin's cauldron behind them.
Professor Nott passed around the room with a strange, loping grace, doling out instructions and admonitions to each pair. The only cauldron he passed without comment each time was Malfoy and Sharpwood's. Rose knew from years of classes together that Malfoy was one of the best potioneers in the year – it made her all the more determined to finish first.
"Damn it," Meyer muttered as Rose was stirring the liquid anti-clockwise in the cauldron. An unspoken understanding had grown between them as they worked, and the latter asked calmly, "What's the matter?"
"I don't have any Honeywater," the Slytherin prefect said in a low voice. "I'd forgotten I didn't manage to get it in Diagon Alley last week."
Rose set the cauldron down and handed Nina her potions kit. "Just use some of mine. What's the problem?" Strands of damp hair were clinging to her sweaty forehead, and she brushed them away, taking a deep breath and nearly gagging on the fumes emanating from the cauldron behind. She heard Albus say impatiently, "No, not until it turns yellow!" and had to stop herself smiling.
"Five minutes left," the professor announced from the other end of the classroom, and Nina groaned. Her thick black hair was beginning to frizz in the humidity of the air.
"Is anyone finished yet?" Rose asked quietly, and her companion cast a glance back.
"No, not quite. Jem and Scorpius are still crushing the Chizpurfle Fangs."
"Good. Just take my Honeywater, and add it."
"But you have barely any left. And we already used all of your lionfish spines." She did not sound apologetic, only annoyed. Rose rolled her eyes. Slytherins were so proud.
"I don't mind, Meyer! Just add it, we can use your ingredients another time."
Reluctantly, her partner added the last few drops of Honeywater, and the liquid in the cauldron turned a smooth, velvety turquoise. Professor Nott nodded in approval as he passed, and Rose turned up the heat with her wand. Pinch by pinch, she added the powder of the crushed Chizpurfle Fangs, watching as the potion began to bubble.
"I'm sorry about your mum," Nina Meyer said in a very low voice, and Rose promptly knocked over the phial containing the last few drops of salamander blood. The other girl righted it with her wand before it spilt and took the phial in her hand, while her companion stared at her in shock.
"You – what?"
"I said I'm sorry about your mum," the Slytherin prefect repeated, dripping the salamander blood into the cauldron. The potion turned a pale pink, and she gave it a few cautious stirs. "I've never liked you, Weasley, or your family - but your mum didn't deserve that."
"I… thank you?"
"I'm glad she isn't dead," Meyer continued matter-of-factly, sealing the empty phial and putting it aside. "Because if she hadn't changed the Muggle-born Sorting regulations, I wouldn't have ended up in Slytherin."
Rose shook her head, waving her wand to clear the ingredients in her kit. "Why did you want to be in Slytherin anyway?" she said confusedly, because it was the only thing she could think of to say.
"I'd never have belonged anywhere else," Meyer said with a shrug. "But I don't expect you to know what I mean, Weasley. Your whole family's always been in Gryffindor. You'll never understand Slytherin." Without waiting for her reply, she raised her hand and called across the classroom, "Professor Nott, we're ready!"
(***)
"I don't see why you're making such a fuss about it, Al," Rose grumbled as they emerged from the dungeons into the entrance hall, which was swarming with students on their way to the next class. "I won us back the Housepoints we lost. No harm done."
"No harm done?" Albus repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "You've made some more enemies, Rose, and Merlin knows our family has enough of them already. If you'd just kept quiet and not let them goad you - "
"Sat back and looked weak, you mean?" Rose said sharply. "Someone had to stand up to them!"
"You know what the funny thing is?" As they passed two Aurors in conversation by the castle entrance, Albus rounded on her, sighing. "That's exactly what Bole said about you." Turning from her, he joined Rory Finnigan and Mark McLaggen, who were standing a few yards away, and climbed the marble staircase.
Instead of following them, Rose stood there for a moment, then stepped out of the castle doors and into the grounds. A gentle breeze blew her red hair as she moved over the grass, passing students returning from the greenhouses and the Forest. The lake stretched out to the south, glittering in the sun. Her brief euphoria at winning the Potions competition was rapidly fading. Why was everyone angry at her today?
"Rose?" Looking up, she saw Penny Alderton walking alone behind a crowd of Hufflepuff sixth-year girls, books clutched to her chest. She stopped in front of Rose, a frown creasing her white forehead. "Are you all right?"
Rose rubbed her forehead wearily. "Not really. Have you seen Cassie? She wasn't at lunch. I haven't seen her since this morning."
"She wasn't in Care of Magical Creatures either," Penny said apologetically. "Jackie told Professor Grubbly-Plank that she was sick, though I think it was a lie."
"Merlin..." Rose turned as her fellow Gryffindor began to walk back to the castle. "Has your first day back been as horrible as mine?"
"It's been all right." Penny shrugged. "A bit lonely. Jackie's been hanging around with her new boyfriend all day."
"Oh, Luke Rokonski?" Rose snorted. "Don't worry, that won't last."
Penny did not reply, but gave a little wave to one of the Aurors standing guard as they entered the castle doors, a fair-haired wizard who looked vaguely familiar. He nodded briefly back before returning to conversation with the other Auror. Rose raised her eyebrows. "Who was that?"
"My brother," Penny said quietly once they had passed. "He's on duty here with some of the other Aurors – they're on a kind of rotation. I wish he wasn't, though… After what Professor Hobspawn said at the feast, I feel like Hogwarts isn't the safest of places anymore."
"Oh, yeah, Geoffrey. I remember him from Teddy's wedding." Rose paused, giving Penny a sidelong glance. "Was he… affected by what happened?"
"He stayed behind for a bit after with Teddy's Auror friends, even though they weren't on duty that day. They wanted to make sure that everyone left the wedding safely. Mum and I were so worried." She gave a sad little smile as they came to a halt outside the Great Hall. "I'd better go to Charms. What have you got next?"
"Free period, so I'll be in the library. Listen, Penny - " she added, as the latter was beginning to turn away, not sure why she felt the need to say something more. "That was – er - really brave of your brother."
Penny gave a sad smile. "It's just the way he is. He never puts himself first. But thank you."
"Well, I know the type," Rose said wryly, and watched as the other girl departed.
"The bobbing hand movement is of utmost importance. I want you all to practice it now, in pairs." Professor Harris folded her arms and watched as the Charms class began to raise their wands, screwing up their faces in concentration, and attempted to make the glass bowls hover on the desks before them and perform a dance in the air without smashing.
"Do you want to go first?" Torrance said, and Scorpius blinked back at him. His mind had been miles away, on a grim, storm-tossed island in the North Sea. He shook his head. "No, you."
With a sigh, Torrance raised his wand and flicked it carelessly. The glass bowl raised itself a couple of inches off the table half-heartedly, then tipped to its side and smashed. Professor Harris directed a scowl their way at the sound of breaking glass. "Careful!" she barked, as the perpetrator hurriedly repaired the bowl with his wand.
"This is so pointless," he muttered. "I wish we were in Defence. Your turn."
Forcing himself to focus, Scorpius swish-and-flicked silently so that the glass bowl was hovering over the table. Then, in a slow, delicate movement, he bobbed his wand-hand so that the glass bowl began to twist and turn in the air, tipping to the left, then to the right. He raised his wand higher, and the glass bowl soared gracefully over the heads of the other students, who ceased in their charm-casting to watch its progress.
Scorpius began to trace deliberate circles in the air in front of him with his wand, clenching his jaw in concentration. The bowl came to a halt in the centre of the room and performed a dazzling spin. Sunlight streaming in through the windows glinted in the glass as it spun faster and faster, becoming a blur.
Someone shrieked in anticipation of the bowl shattering, and a few students threw their arms over their heads. But, with a graceful flourish of his wand, Scorpius steered the bowl back towards his corner of the classroom. Its spinning slowed as it returned, and it gently halted before him, lowering itself onto his table.
There was a shocked silence, then the class began to applaud. Letting his wand drop, Scorpius realised that he was smiling. The plump, frizzy-haired professor was clapping most enthusiastically from the front of the classroom. "Wonderful!" she cried, as the applause died down. "Truly wonderful. I hope you were all watching… that is exactly the kind of creative flair that the N.E.W.T. examiners will be looking for. Ten points to Slytherin! Now, back to work, everyone!"
Composing himself, Scorpius turned back to his partner. Torrance was staring at him, flabbergasted. "Show-off," he managed to say, and Scorpius laughed.
At the end of Charms, when the other students were filing out of the classroom eagerly to get to dinner, Professor Harris called to him from her desk. "Malfoy, would you wait here a moment?"
He felt his heart sink as he threw the bag-strap over his other shoulder and leaned against the corner of her desk. She was going to scold him for endangering the other students with his stunt, ask whether he had cheated by practicing over the summer, or whispering the incantation under his breath…
"Have you ever considered joining Charms club, Malfoy?" the professor said abruptly, tucking a roll of parchment into the drawer of her desk.
"Charms club?" Scorpius repeated in surprise.
She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I think it would suit you very well. You'd have a chance to learn a whole range of new charms that aren't on the course. And you would be working with other students who have the same passion for Charms that you do."
"I would, professor, but I'll be busy this year – I'm a prefect, and I do Quidditch as well, and…" Scorpius struggled to find another reason why he couldn't possibly go to Charms club. It did sound appealing, but he knew instinctively that it was something he could not do. Professor Harris raised her eyebrows sceptically.
"And your parents."
"What about them?" he said sharply, raising his head to look her fully in the eye. Of course she, like everyone else in the school, must have read The Daily Prophet this morning. She did not flinch or seem surprised by his reaction, just returned to clearing away her desk.
"They think Charms is a waste of time, do they not? A simple subject, for students who want a break from subjects like Transfiguration and Potions. Is that true?"
"How do you know what they think?" Scorpius said suspiciously. Professor Harris smiled, stepping down from the desk, and shrugged.
"Because most people see Charms that way." She put a hand on his shoulder as she passed, looking seriously into his face. "But I know you don't." She dropped her hand and moved past him, towards the doorway. "As for Quidditch, well, I've been in consultation with the other Heads of Houses and have managed to schedule the club sessions around the training schedules, where possible."
"But - "
"Think about it, Malfoy." With one last stern glance, the Charms professor bustled out of the classroom, and Scorpius frowned. He could hear his father's voice in his head… Anyone can pass Charms. Don't waste your time worrying about it.
Shaking his head, he followed Professor Harris, closing the door behind him.
The library was quiet in the afternoons, which was one of the reasons Rose liked to go there and forget herself in the stacks of yellowing, dusty books so often. Particularly today, when all anyone wanted to talk about was Astoria Malfoy's arrest… The prospect of tucking herself away from prying eyes with some old manuscript was all the more attractive.
Madam Pince, the ancient librarian, was hunched over a scroll when she entered and hardly spared her a glance. That was yet another thing Rose liked about the library. The anonymity. She smiled a little as she headed over to the towering bookcases at the far end of the cavernous room, passing a third-year girl with glasses whose head was bent earnestly over her books. Maybe she could read up on Alchemy before their first class next week – get ahead of all the other students and impress Professor Nott.
She scanned the worn spines of the Potions section, standing on her tiptoes to see the top shelf, and felt a flicker of disappointment. No titles leapt out at her. Sighing softly, she weaved around the shelves to the Restricted Section.
There, among the crumbling, foul-smelling books, some of whose bindings were falling apart, Rose spotted a thin, faded spine: Moste Potente Potions. It did not even mention alchemy, but the book was one of her favourites in the library. She could not resist. Settling herself at a secluded desk, she thumbed through the delicate pages gingerly, gazing at the familiar, gruesome drawings. One of her favourite stories of her parents' schooldays was how her mother had brewed Polyjuice Potion from this same book in her second year.
She had reached the chapter on slow-acting venoms when someone said her name.
"Rosie? Can I talk to you for a moment?" Her cousin, Lily, had slipped into the seat opposite her. Her lengths of vibrant red hair whose straightness Rose had always envied stood out startlingly against her dark robes. She was gnawing on her lower lip, and looked worried (but prettily so, as the younger girl always seemed to manage).
"Of course." Rose shut Moste Potente Potions, ignoring a brief pang at her loss of solitude, and looked at the fourth-year before her. "Is everything all right?"
"Not really, no." Lily tapped her fingers on the wooden surface of the desk restlessly. "I mean, I'm fine, but… other people aren't." She gave Rose a pointed glance.
"Is this about Hugo?" the other girl replied, catching on quickly as she recalled her earlier conversation with him. "I know he's upset with me about the whole Astoria Malfoy thing - "
"It's not just that," Lily said, lowering her voice as Madam Pince shot her a glare from the desk. "Since we came back, he hasn't been himself at all, Rosie. I mean, I know the shock of – well – everything hasn't worn off yet, and I understand that, but…"
"But?"
"He – he doesn't talk to anyone properly, just goes off by himself all the time." Lily frowned. "He's always been quiet, I know, and I'm not his closest friend, but even I can see he's – different these days. He was really late for Transfiguration today, and he wouldn't say why when I asked."
Rose sighed. "That was probably because he followed me to Ancient Runes. Did he get in trouble?"
"No, Professor Broadmoor didn't even deduct points," her cousin sighed. "He feels sorry for him, like all the other professors. But I don't think that's what he needs. What he needs is someone to talk to him, make him see that things can be normal. He needs you."
Rose leaned her head on her hands and shut her eyes, kneading the skin of her temples gently. She could sense her cousin watching her. "You're the only one who understands what he's gone through, Rosie. If he'll listen to anyone, it's you."
"I don't know about that, Lily. Hugo and I – we're close, I suppose, but…"
"…you don't tell each other things," Lily finished for her. "I know. I've got brothers too, remember? But you can count on the people you've grown up with to really know who you are, and how to help you if you're in trouble. Sometimes they're the only ones you can count on."
"I don't agree," Rose said quietly. She opened her eyes to regard her cousin. "I think you can live for years in the same house as someone and never know them at all."
Lily looked at her for a moment before answering, her hazel eyes uncertain. "Maybe that's true - but I know if Albus or James were acting like this, I'd still try to get through to them."
"I've tried already." The older girl shrugged, tracing a finger along the faded cover of her book. "Ever since the wedding, we've been thrown together a lot, visiting Mum in the hospital and everything, but – he's barely said a word to me. Apart from today, and even then, that was about the Malfoys. There's no point in trying, Lily. Maybe it'd be better to just leave him be for a while, let him get over it. After all, Mum's fine now. Nothing – nothing happened, really."
"What are you talking about?" Lily exclaimed. "Nothing happened? Your mum was poisoned! That's a lot to 'get over'! Just because you're dealing with it in a different way doesn't mean Hugo has to - "
Rose met her eye once more. "I was just as affected as he was by what happened," she said coolly. "I saw it. But school's started, and there's no point dwelling on it any more. Mum's all right and Astoria Malfoy's been locked up. Everything's fine, Lily."
"You don't believe that," her cousin responded firmly. "This isn't like you, Rosie. I know you're still angry about it all. Albus told me about you and the Slytherins earlier. It's OK to admit it, you know!"
"I was angry," Rose corrected her primly. "But now I'm not. Of course I'll keep looking out for Hugo – he's my brother. But I just don't see the point in talking to him. I know him, and he doesn't like being helped. He prefers to work alone." She reopened Moste Potente Potions pointedly, avoiding her cousin's stare. "And so do I."
Lily sat across from her for a few seconds more, as she read the first sentence of the chapter. It may take from an hour to a day for symptoms of slow-acting venoms to manifest themselves in the victim. Rose's eyes were still scanning the same sentence when her cousin rose from the table without another word, her shoes squeaking across the floor and undoubtedly earning her another glare from Madam Pince as she walked out of the library.
(***)
"I can't believe Cassie's skipping dinner too," Rory Finnigan said in disbelief. "She must be really nervous about tryouts."
"I think it's more than that," Jackie said wisely, seizing a piece of roast chicken and cutting it into slices on her plate. "Lisa Harvey found her crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom earlier, and no one's gone in there for decades."
"Maybe she got bad news," Penny supplied, taking a dainty bite of her potato.
Rose felt a pang of guilt. With everything that had happened that day: Astoria Malfoy's arrest, Hugo cornering her before Ancient Runes, her fight with Malfoy in Potions, she had forgotten how upset Cassie had been at breakfast. "Where is she now?"
"Dormitories, probably. I think she's been hiding out there most of the day."
Rose bit her lip, debating whether or not to bring food up to her friend. Then, catching sight of Lucy Weasley sitting a little way up the Gryffindor table, Head Girl's badge fixed to her chest, she remembered her earlier conversation with Albus, and leapt to her feet. "I'll be back in a minute," she told the others.
Lucy was sitting with her Ravenclaw boyfriend, laughing at something he had said, and looked up in surprise as Rose approached. "Is there something wrong?" she asked at her cousin's earnest expression.
"Just one small problem, Luce," Rose said, attempting to keep her voice casual. She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then slipped into the seat beside her. "You and Robbins paired me with Scorpius Malfoy for patrols. I need to swap."
"That's unfortunate," Lucy said, looking apologetic. "We made the pairings randomly, Rose, so I assure you that was not intentional. But a swap just isn't possible."
"Why not?" Rose asked, rather loudly, and several students glanced over. The Ravenclaw boy, who was called Michael or Christopher or some such sensible name, looked at her with some alarm. "Lucy," she continued, lowering her voice again. "Have you read The Daily Prophet today? You must know why I can't patrol with him."
Lucy's expression grew haughty. "Of course I've read it. My father is the Minister for Magic, Rose, in case you've forgotten. He was presiding over that very hearing. But I can't let you swap partners. For one thing, Jonah and I carefully worked out each prefect's patrol nights so that they wouldn't clash with Quidditch training or other extracurricular activities - "
"Lucy, his mother's in prison because of me! You know what she did; she's dangerous, all of them are dangerous, so do you really think it's a good idea to pair me with someone who could very easily have a motive to hurt me, I mean - "
" – and for another, Professor Hobspawn insisted that we pair prefects from different Houses together to ensure that the patrols are done correctly, without delay or procrastination, and - "
" – he threatened me in Potions today, Lucy, he and his friends are all out to get me -"
" – to encourage inter-House cooperation," her cousin finished stubbornly, as though she had not spoken. "Rose, no one isswapping partners. Rules are rules. If you feel threatened, you should go to one of the professors, but I should remind you that our Headmaster is a former Auror. He knows how to protect his students."
"Merlin's sake, Lucy," Rose exclaimed, getting to her feet and shoving the chair back with unnecessary violence, prompting Michael or Christopher to give her another disapproving look. Across the table, her eyes briefly fell on Hugo, flanked by Lily and another fourth-year. He was staring at her. She ignored them both and marched back to her own seat, scowling.
"If I ever become Head Girl, I hope I'm more helpful than her," she said to Penny and Jackie, who exchanged nonplussed glances.
Summer Birchgrove really was lovely.
As she strode across the entrance hall towards him, her loose blonde hair shimmering in the light of the setting sun spreading from the open double doors, Albus Potter indulged himself in that observation, just for a moment. He had noticed it last year, of course, when they had sat together in Charms – how could he not have - but somehow, wishing she would stop talking about his brother before his head imploded had prevented him from taking much of it in then. But now…
Summer came to a graceful halt before Albus, a radiant smile lighting her face. After a moment of tongue-tied silence, he realised that she expected him to speak. Clearing his throat, he said, "Er… So, we'll be patrolling the first floor corridor, then?" But that was a stupid thing to say; they both already knew that.
"I think so, yes," she said brightly. "Do you want to head up?"
"All right." Letting her go ahead, Albus proceeded up the marble staircase and shook his head as though to clear it. What was wrong with him?
"So how was your first day back?" she asked politely as they began to move along the corridor, which was nearly deserted, except for a few seventh years and the occasional harried professor rushing back to their office.
"It was…" Don't say 'all right' again. "… interesting."
"Potions was rather exciting. Your cousin's argument with those Slytherins, I mean," she elaborated at his confused look as they passed the entrance to the Stone Bridge. "If Professor Nott hadn't come in when he did, who knows what might have happened?"
"Yeah, Rose was just being... Rose." In his memory of the incident, Albus recalled something else. "Oh – were you all right after what happened?"
"The Boom Berry juice?" She laughed. "It hurt a lot, but Madam Pomfrey fixed it up pretty quickly. I was scared it would scar, but it didn't, thank Merlin. I hope I'm not paired with Kloves again though!"
"Yeah, he's a bit of an idiot," Albus said, suddenly feeling more at ease.
"If I'd been paired with you, it wouldn't have happened, I'm sure," Summer said lightly.
What was that supposed to mean? Albus glanced out at a window facing out over the courtyard to hide his confusion. "Er… no, I hope it wouldn't."
There was an awkward silence, then the sound of a pop above them and there was Peeves hovering above, grinning gleefully. "Potty's got a girlfriend!" he announced to the corridor, before proceeding to pelt them both with Snargaluff pods. Shrieking, Summer broke into a run, throwing her hands over her head as wriggling green worms dropped from the ceiling, while Albus followed her, his face hot.
Peeves' mocking calls followed them to the end of the corridor, where they ducked around a tapestry, panting, and leaned against the wall. "Well…" Summer said, her bright blue eyes dancing with humour, shaking out her robes to make sure that no worms were left. "That was an experience."
"If you want to go back… I mean, I can say we did the whole patrol," Albus said uncertainly, but Summer shook her head.
"Oh no, don't worry about it. We can just wait till he's gone." She peeped around the tapestry. A lock of blonde hair fell across her tanned forehead, and she tucked it back behind her ear, then hissed, "I think the coast is clear."
As they stepped back out into the corridor, however, they heard rapidly-approaching footsteps. Orchid Ottelby appeared around the corner, hair dishevelled and boyfriend in tow. She was giggling, tugging him towards the marble staircase with one hand, but pulled up short when she saw the two prefects.
"Oh." Her smile widened. "Look who it is, Torrance."
"Hullo, Orchid," Summer said, returning her smile. Albus shifted his feet and said nothing.
"Potter and Birchgrove." Bole held up his hands in mock surrender. "You've got us. Sneaking out past curfew – quite shocking, isn't it?"
"We tried to set up a diversion and everything – but you can never really rely on Peeves, can you?" Ottelby sighed, leaning against her boyfriend's shoulder and appearing perfectly at ease. "Oh, well. Will you let us off this one time if we promise it won't happen again?"
"Of course," Summer said easily, but Albus took a step forward, towards the two Slytherins.
"Hold on a minute. Where are you going?"
Bole regarded him with some amusement, as though he were a rather interesting specimen in Care of Magical Creatures. "Downstairs, Potter. Why? Care to join us?"
Ottelby snorted at that, and her boyfriend grinned, watching Albus as the latter spoke again, doggedly.
"What are you doing downstairs?"
"You really don't want to know," Ottelby said lightly, her arm snaking around Bole's waist as she wiggled her eyebrows at Albus suggestively.
"But we'll tell you if you insist," Bole added, playing along. "You see, when a wizard and a witch love each other very much - "
"That's enough," Albus said gruffly, before Bole could get any further. He could sense Summer's gaze on him, and felt incredibly foolish, his face warming once more. "Go on, then. But – er - we're going to have to deduct points."
"There's no need for that, Albus," Summer interjected gently. "They said it wouldn't happen again, didn't they?"
"Thank you, Birchgrove," Bole said sincerely, smiling at her. "Nice to know someone's on our side." He set off for the marble staircase at a leisurely pace, arm around Ottelby as she continued to snicker. Only when they reached the top did he halt, turning back slowly to look at Albus. His face had lost all of its mirth, and his eyes seemed suddenly darker, the lit torches casting strange shadows across his skin.
"Just one warning, Potter. The next time you raise your wand to our friend, Nott mightn't be around to put a stop to things."
Albus was quiet as they disappeared down the staircase, feeling more than a little chilled by Bole's words. He thought of what Rose had said earlier. Someone had to stand up to them! Maybe she had a point. Maybe doing nothing had made things worse for him. Because now Bole and Ottelby felt they could humiliate him – and they knew he would not fight back.
"Don't listen to them," Summer said, and he gave a start, forcing the thought away. She did not seem in the least bothered by what Bole had said, and was smiling reassuringly at him. "Come on, let's get this finished. It looks like we'll have our work cut out for us this year, doesn't it?"
The rest of their patrol was peaceful by comparison. Conversation came surprisingly easily, whether it was about Quidditch, school or their favourite bands (Summer's was the Sirens, Albus's was Phoenix Tears). Having caught no other marauding students after an hour, Albus walked the pretty Hufflepuff prefect back to her common room.
"Well, that was interesting," she said with a smile as they stood before the entrance to her common room. "I'm really glad we were paired together."
Albus tried to ignore the warmth in her eyes that was making his stomach twist itself into knots, and simply nodded in response, until she had disappeared into the entrance. Then he started back towards the Gryffindor Tower, unable to help one last, cheering thought – that throughout the whole patrol, Summer Birchgrove had not mentioned his brother once.
After several hours of tossing and turning in her four-poster bed, staring at the dark ceiling above and listening to the snores of her dormitory-mates until she felt like screaming with frustration, Rose had resigned herself to the fact that she was not going to get any sleep that night. It was a pointless venture. Every time she closed her eyes, images of Astoria Malfoy locked up in Azkaban flashed across her retinas… And Scorpius Malfoy raising his wand to her in Potions, Torrance Bole and Orchid Ottelby standing with their arms crossed, smirking at her.
Maybe your family isn't as powerful as you'd like to think, Weasley.
Treading as lightly as she could, Rose padded out of the dormitory, shielding her wand-light with the sleeve of her pyjamas (and stubbing her toe against the side of Penny Alderton's bed in the process, causing the latter to stir sleepily as her dormitory-mate hissed colourful curses under her breath). She descended the stairs into the empty common room with the vague intention of going to get some fresh air, but pulled up short when she saw a figure seated in the hearth, her features cast in the dim glow of the dying fire.
"Cass?" she said in surprise. "What are you doing awake?"
Cassie met her gaze. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and she held a piece of parchment in her hands. "Couldn't sleep," she said dully.
"Join the club." Rose folded herself into the nearest armchair, suppressing a yawn. "I haven't seen you all day. You were asleep when I came up after dinner. Do you want to tell me what's up?"
Silently, her friend held up the piece of parchment; squinting, Rose saw that it was the Quidditch tryouts sheet, and sighed. "You really shouldn't get so worked up about this. I heard Madam Hooch say you're the best Chaser Hogwarts has seen for years. Besides, James says you've nothing to worry about, and I know my cousin… he's not the type to give empty compli – Cass?"
The other girl had let out a sob, casting the sheet out of her hands. Shocked, Rose slipped out of her armchair and dropped to her knees, putting a comforting arm around her friend's shoulder. "Hey. Hey. What's the matter?"
"I…" Cassie shook her head, took a deep breath, and blew her nose. "I can't try out this weekend. Or - ever. My parents won't let me play Quidditch anymore. It's too much of a distraction, they say. They even – they even took away my broom."
"Oh, Cass…" Rose stared at her. "A distraction from what?"
"From studying," her friend said bitterly, avoiding her gaze. "They said I got bad O.W.L. results last year because I was too focused on Quidditch."
"But you got fantastic results! You did," she insisted as Cassie gave her a look.
"Rose, no offence, but you're the last person I want to hear that from. Ten Os, remember?"
"Right." Rose sighed. "But… there has to be another way - I could help tutor you and everything, you could get them to give you a chance…"
"Don't you think I've tried that?" Cassie gave a mirthless little laugh, shaking her head so that her long, dark hair fell over it, strands sticking to her damp face. "I've been arguing with them all summer. I've tried persuading, reasoning, bargaining, shouting, tricking, threatening, even begging. I've tried everything, but they won't bloody budge."
"Well, we'll keep trying," Rose said firmly. "We've got to. I know how much Quidditch means to you, Cassie, it's your life - "
"They said I'll never get a proper job without good N.E.W.T.s," Cassie interrupted. "I told them I'd play professional Quidditch, and they laughed." Staring into the dying embers of the fire, she shook her head slowly, wiping the stray strands of hair off her cheek. "And now Rory's trying out – and he's going to replace me as Chaser."
"If he gets on the team." Rose bit her lip. "But your parents'll come around, Cassie, they've got to. "
"They're not going to change their minds," her friend said grimly. "Mum played Seeker when she was in school, but she was in Ravenclaw and got good grades, so it was different. And Dad's a Muggle, he barely knows what Quidditch is. They don't understand."
"But – "
"This isn't something you can fix, Rose," Cassie said with finality. "I know you've got your own stuff to deal with, already, and..." She turned to face Rose fully, slipping the arm off her shoulders, her face set. "I haven't been there for you, this past week. Everything that happened with your mum - when I heard, I should have gone over to the hospital straight away. Or at least tried to talk to you properly."
Rose was silent at this, looking down at her hands. Much as she wanted to reassure her friend, she could not help but partially agree – she had been wondering why, after news of her mother's poisoning at the wedding, she had not received more than a brief note from her best friend.
"The truth is," Cassie went on softly, "I didn't know how I could help. What I could say. I thought you wouldn't want me there, with all your family… It all scared me too much, so I did nothing. Which was the worse thing I could have done, really. I realise that now."
"I know." Rose clasped her friend's hand in hers, meeting her eye seriously, blue eyes staring into brown. "Everything's just been so… confusing since it happened, I don't blame you for not knowing what to do. I haven't a clue either." She shrugged her shoulders. "But what's important now is that we just get through the year. Together."
Cassie gave her a wan smile, squeezing her hand. "Together."
The two witches stayed where they were for a long time, talking in low voices, as the light of the fire grew dimmer around them, casting long shadows along the edges of the common room. When at last Cassie rose from the hearth and stretched her limbs, declaring her tiredness, Rose joined her, pausing at the window to tug the curtains closed once more.
It was an unseasonably frosty night, and the glass of the window had steamed over from the warmth of the fire. Marking a circle in the condensation with her sleeve, she glanced through, and blinked. She had thought, for just a moment, that she discerned a momentary flare of wandlight at the other end of the grounds, in the thicket of trees near Hagrid's hut. But then it was gone, and all she could see was darkness.
The sensible part of her said that it was only an Auror, patrolling the grounds – who else could it be? Still, for some reason or another, Rose could not suppress a shiver, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she followed her roommate upstairs to their dormitory.
A.N: Happy Hallowe'en! A huge thanks to nobodysperfect2133 for reviewing the last few chapters, as well as the anonymous reviewers Guest and SKewedVieW. Your feedback is much appreciated. Keep 'em coming!