Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling

A/N: Happy almost-Christmas! It's been ages, I know, so refresher time:

Hugo was snatched by a mysterious witch in Knockturn Alley who taunted Rose before letting them both go. Cassie Miller, Rose's best friend, has a bit of a crush on James Potter, who's investigating the whole Geoffrey Alderton situation at the moment (the Auror who allegedly helped poison Hermione at the wedding). James is also going out with Summer, Albus's crush, resulting in much brotherly tension. Rose found out by examining her memories that the Malfoys are in debt, which is why Astoria Malfoy came to the wedding, in an attempt to negotiate her proud husband a promotion. Scorpius's friend, Jeremy Sharpwood, is not in the best place at the moment as his father is very ill. His other friend, Nina Meyer, has gotten pally with Rose recently, following a few Mudblood threats. Torrance and Orchid, as always, are involved in some shady business, and Carlos Santini, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, made a sordid bet involving Lily Potter to get back at her brother.

Chapter 18: Friends

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Hugo grumbled. "It's not like I'm going to hex people point-blank in the corridors. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't. I'd be sneakier about it."

"Don't let Hobspawn hear you say that." Rose cast a glance around, as though she expected to see the Headmaster following them, then allowed herself a little smile at her brother's impetuosity. "And it's just for the first few weeks, until you get settled in again."

"Still…"

"What, is it so bad having your big sister around all the time? Am I cramping your style?" She shouldered her brother as they reached the third floor, which was scattered with students making their way back from evening classes.

"Yeah," Hugo said frankly, but he shouldered her back. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Well, better it be me than some stuffy old member of staff, right? How would you like to have Madam Pince trailing your every footstep?" Lowering her voice to a catlike hiss, she rasped, "No talking in the corridors, Weasley!"

Hugo gave a snort. "That doesn't sound anything like Madam Pince."

"It does so!"

"Sure." Her brother rolled his eyes. "Well, I know Mum and Dad are happy with the arrangement. Having you follow me around between classes to make sure I don't do anything crazy. Forcing us to get along, and all that."

"We don't need to be forced to get along," Rose protested, ignoring her brother's raised eyebrow. "We don't. Not anymore." Then her expression grew more serious, and she lowered her voice. "Besides, Mum and Dad are probably just as worried that I'll do something crazy. Ever since I told them what really happened with me and Andromeda…"

Hugo's answering frown was not exactly comforting. Wincing, Rose found herself remembering the crowded platform in King's Cross, the uncertainty on her parents' faces as they bade her farewell. That had been a day ago.

The touch of her brother's hand on her arm brought her back to reality. "They just need some time to decide what to do, Rosie. What you told them… changed things."

"I think they've already decided," Rose said quietly, recalling the witch's taunting words. Your parents have been one step ahead of you all the way. "I just don't know what."

"You can't blame yourself, Rosie," Hugo said, and there was a firmness to his voice that was unfamiliar to her. "That won't help anyone."

Where had all this maturity come from? Since when did her little brother start giving her advice? It was disconcerting. "I know," she muttered. Half-hearted though her assent was, it seemed to satisfy Hugo, and he let go of her arm, allowing them to resume their walk in companionable silence until they reached a side staircase that was a shortcut to Gryffindor Tower.

"You'll be all right from here?" Rose said anxiously. Her brother gave her an exasperated look.

"Yes, Rosie, I think I know my way to the portrait hole. Wait, is it guarded by a Fat Lady?"

"Very funny," she retorted, reaching out to ruffle her brother's curly auburn hair while he recoiled.

"Enjoy your boring prefect meeting."

"I will." Rose grinned to herself as they parted ways, turning up the corridor towards the prefects' offices.

"Weasley."

She turned to see Scorpius Malfoy approaching from the other direction. He was clad in his school robes, but his blond hair was tousled, indicating that he had recently been flying. "On your way to the meeting?"

Rose inclined her head as he fell into step beside her. "How were your holidays?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Restful, I suppose. And yours?"

"Not exactly restful, but…" At his inquiring look, she mimicked his gesture, lifting her own shoulders offhandedly. "Fine."

"I see your brother's back at school."

"Yeah." Suddenly uncomfortable, Rose could not bring herself to look at Scorpius. "Yeah, he is."

"It's all right, you know, Weasley." They had reached the door to the prefects' offices, and the murmur of conversation wafted out from within; it seemed that the meeting had not started yet. Scorpius turned to face Rose, moving a few inches closer to her in the process. The sharp tang of his sweat reached her nostrils, and suddenly she was finding it hard to concentrate on his words.

"I don't feel threatened or anything," he elaborated, when it became clear that she was not going to respond. "What your brother did to me was a once-off."

"Try telling that to Stebbins."

"Pardon?"

"You know, the Muggle Studies teacher. I had to go to her for counselling sessions after Hugo attacked you." Rose couldn't believe that she was actually telling him about that, but kept going anyway. "Complete rubbish. They're over now, though, thank Merlin."

Scorpius Malfoy was gazing at her with some surprise. "Counselling sessions? You took counselling sessions?"

"Yeah," Rose said briskly. "Just one more thing to cross off my schedule now. As well as our weekly patrols." She raised her eyebrows at him, eager to change the topic. "Will you miss me awfully?"

"I don't know how I'll cope," he said dryly. "Patrolling with you was my favourite part of the week. Uncovering mysteries, exchanging witticisms…"

"More like insults." Rose grinned at him, and he grinned back, and a few strange moments later she realised that the buzz of conversation in the offices beyond them had ebbed. "We'd better go in."

"Yeah." Scorpius straightened up – he had been leaning on the doorframe, angled towards her as she spoke - and followed her into the meeting, neither of them particularly sure of what had just happened.

"Well, that's going to be uncomfortable," Albus Potter remarked as they left the offices a quarter of an hour later, talking eagerly amongst themselves. "Scorpius Malfoy and Diana Turpin, I mean. Sometimes I wonder if the patrol pairings are really as random as Robbins makes out."

"Maybe it's the only fun he gets," Rose suggested. "Making awkward pairings."

"I'm sure your cousin Lucy is far too professional to allow that to happen," Nina Meyer asserted, joining their conversation with apparent ease. "Besides, the rest of us got off all right, didn't we? Who did you get again, Rose?"

"Jason Kloves."

"A tolerable partner, from my experience," Nina said as they emerged into the corridor, "That is, if you don't mind listening to his opinions on the merits of the Kenmare Kestrels over the Appleby Arrows for two hours straight."

"He's one of those Quidditch-obsessed types?" Rose gave a little groan.

"Afraid so." Nina grimaced. "Can't pick up on social cues, that one. I suppose there's a reason he's a Ravenclaw."

"Harsh," Albus commented from Rose's other side. He had been watching their exchange with something between bafflement and interest. The curious gazes of other passing prefects indicated that he was not alone in his surprise at the unlikely friendship the two witches had recently formed.

Nina Meyer seemed unconcerned, meeting Albus's gaze placidly. "That's something you're going to have to get used to, Potter."

An uncomfortable silence followed this, then Rose, casting about for something to talk about, said abruptly, "Do you have Gobstones now, Nina?"

She had not meant it as a dismissal, but Nina, with a glance between the two cousins, seemed to take it as such. "Yeah. First session since the holidays, so I suppose I'd better hurry. See you later, Rose. Potter."

"Can't say I'm looking forward to that," Albus said gloomily, indicating his head towards Nina Meyer's retreating back. "Patrolling with her."

"At least you won't be patrolling with Summer any more," Rose pointed out.

"I don't know," Albus said quietly. "I'll miss my patrols with her. Despite everything."

"But you won't have to think about her as much."

Now her cousin looked pained. "I'll miss that, too."

Rose bit back whatever blunt retort had been forming on her lips – that Summer Birchgrove was going out with Albus's brother, not with him, that at a certain point he would have to stop moping and move on, that in all probability she had never even been aware of his feelings for her, and as for James…

She knew none of these observations would be of much use to her cousin, as they had likely occurred to him already, and would doubtless bring him more pain if uttered aloud. Blowing out a breath as they reached the end of the corridor, she said instead, "You can do much better, you know."

Albus gave her an incredulous look. "Than Summer Birchgrove? Really, Rose, I appreciate the sentiment, but - "

"I mean it," Rose continued doggedly. "I think you could do a whole better than someone who doesn't appreciate you for the fantastic bloke that you are."

Her cousin looked down, pressing his lips together. He did not speak for so long that Rose was inclined to give up when he finally blurted out, "She did appreciate me. Summer. She still does – I know she does. She just never… saw me in the same way that she sees James."

Rose sighed again. "James…" she began, trying to find the right words. "I love James. But he's – he's like a force of nature. He does what he wants, when he wants to. Nothing and no one can tie him down, and I think it'll always be that way."

Albus glanced at her. "You're saying…"

"I'm saying that Summer might feel a lot more for James than he does for her." Rose shrugged. "I don't know if that's the case. But what I do know - " She paused, fixing her gaze on her cousin's, earnestly, " – what I do know is that you're not like that, Albus. You… you notice things. People. And because of that, you know how to help them when things go wrong. You almost always put their interests before your own."

"Which makes me a pushover," Albus said glumly, as he compulsively straightened his glasses.

Slowly, Rose smiled. "No. It makes you a leader." She saw the gleam of surprise in her cousin's bright green eyes, and went on, "It's why you're bound to get Head Boy after Robbins."

Albus waved a hand, not meeting her eye. "I'm not a leader, Rosie. Not like James, or Robbins, or Lucy. I can't order people around; I can't make them follow me. It's one thing to be a prefect, but…"

"Your father is Harry Potter," Rose reminded him. "Saviour of the wizarding world, remember? And I'm pretty sure he thought the exact same thing about himself once."

But her words had not quite the effect on her cousin that she had hoped. Albus's head drooped, and he made a vague noise of assent. A minute later, they had parted ways – he to the common room and she to the library – and Rose was left puzzling over what she had said wrong.

Scorpius Malfoy had never expected to be in so pitiable a state as would induce him to actually miss his and Weasley's weekly patrols. But now, the sinking knowledge that he had been paired with his ex, Diana Turpin, and would have to spend the dreaded hour with her instead, rendered his former arrangement infinitely preferable.

Following the prefects' meeting, Scorpius retreated to the library and attempted to distract himself with various projects and assignments, as was his habit. Diana Turpin was not the sole reason that he needed to be distracted; the memory of the note his mother had sent to him on Christmas Eve, and his father's resulting depression of spirits, persisted to plague him, as it had for the past two weeks.

Predictably, the library was packed with students who, like Scorpius, were catching up on work they had neglected over the Christmas holidays. He managed to locate a desk away from the crowds, close to the Restricted Section, but another distraction soon presented itself.

The sight of Rose Weasley, a few yards to his left, red hair falling around her flushed face and soft brow furrowed in concentration, drew his gaze away from his parchment more often than he would have liked, or ever admitted.

It was clear that she was searching for some textbook, yet that did not account for her apparent agitation. She stretched for higher shelves, almost tore delicate pages in her impatience, cursed under her breath as she discarded countless volumes, sneezed over clouds of dust that rose, and still nothing seemed to yield itself to her. Still, she did not notice Scorpius watching her.

Shaking his head, he at last came to the conclusion that this spot, despite its initial seclusion, was far from ideal for completing his essay. Gathering his books and quills up, Scorpius accordingly secured another desk, where Rose Weasley was decidedly not in his line of sight.

This measure was quite successful in restoring his attention to its proper object. An hour passed, and Scorpius had completed his essay, along with a Charms assignment, and settled on retiring for the night. Yet, when he passed the Restricted Section once more, there was Rose Weasley, apparently no closer to concluding her fevered search than she had been when he had moved.

"Something tells me that this isn't homework related."

Rose almost dropped the leather-bound manuscript in her hands as she twisted to behold him. He was regarding her with a mixture of weary amusement and apprehension.

"How did you guess?" Her voice was hoarse from lack of use.

"Powers of observation."

Rose faced away from him, tucking the manuscript back on the shelf. "I'm not having much luck, as I'm sure you've also observed."

"Maybe I can help." At her look of surprise, Scorpius shrugged. "I've finished my work. It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Except maybe rest? You look exhausted."

"Your attempts to get rid of me are sadly transparent, Weasley…"

"Get rid of you?" Rose said innocently. "I'm just worried - "

"… as are your attempts to seem like a caring friend." He folded his arms, fixing her with an unflinching gaze. "What are you looking for?"

Rose hesitated, then turned to face him so that her back was against the shelf. "I don't have a specific title. What I'm looking for is a… profile, on people who've used wandless magic – maybe in the last century or so."

Scorpius's eyebrows rose. "Wandless magic?"

"All I've found is a brief description of its origins, and of the discipline itself. No details of the users."

"Well, with two of us looking, you might have more success." Scorpius knelt and scanned the titles on the adjacent shelf. "Any particular reason why you're interested?"

Rose did not meet his gaze. "It's just something I've been wondering about."

"Clearly." Scorpius's mouth curved in a half-smile. After a moment's silence as they sorted through volumes, side by side, he resumed with, "You know that Albus Dumbledore used it, don't you? Wandless magic?"

"Of course," Rose scoffed. "He dabbled in just about everything. I'm looking for some of the more obscure users – the ones people mightn't necessarily remember."

"Now I'm intrigued."

"Anything to keep your mind off patrols, I suppose?"

Now it was Scorpius's turn to be evasive. "I'm not worried about patrols. Diana and I aren't on such bad terms that we…" He trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable as he stared at the shelves.

Rose smirked. "Right. I'm sure you'll find plenty of things to talk about."

"Perhaps we ought to focus on the task at hand, Weasley?"

Silence prevailed once more, and some minutes had passed before Scorpius drew out a weighty tome marked Species of Magic, tracing his finger down the glossary at the back and turning to the recommended page. Vaguely interested, he made a hmphing sound which caused Rose to turn around, tucking an unruly strand of red hair behind her ear.

"What did you find?"

"I'm not sure if it's important," Scorpius said, his eyes fixed on the page. "There isn't even any accompanying description. Not so much as a line. Just this photograph."

Setting down the book she had been perusing, Rose moved towards him. He was still kneeling by the edge of the bookshelf; she dropped to a crouch beside him, so close that her loose hair was lightly tickling the side of his face, and peered at the photograph.

Scorpius, distracted by her proximity – though it was not altogether unpleasant – was not looking at her, and consequently did not perceive the effect that the photograph had produced in his companion until he heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Weasley?" He turned to face her; already she was wresting the book out of his hands, heavy though it was, and shooting to her feet. She looked almost grey with shock as she stumbled backwards, still staring at the photograph before her. Frowning, Scorpius stood and reached out a hand to steady her; she did not seem to notice.

"Rose? Are you all right?"

"No," she said, then swallowed. "It's her."

A chill shivered down Scorpius's spine at her tone, and he moved forward to regard the photograph once more. It was in black and white, and depicted a dark-haired, sallow-skinned witch, fairly young, who was smiling and waving from the doors of what looked like a pre-War Hogwarts. Nothing in it should have alarmed; he did not recognise the witch, or the name printed beneath her picture. Yet there was Rose, looking as though she had just seen a Grim.

"I've never heard of a Carlotta Pinkstone," he said carefully, "But perhaps you have?"

Rose was nodding now, averting her gaze. "I've seen her before… And I know that name."

"Who is she? Why is she so important?" Scorpius stared at Rose, but for once, she gave nothing away – for once, he could not accurately read her expression. It was most infuriating. "Or are you going to keep me in the dark?"

"I - " Rose began, but she was interrupted – most inopportunely, Scorpius thought – by a voice behind them. Expecting a scowling Madam Pince, he whirled and saw someone else standing beyond the Restricted Section.

"Jem?" he said, surprised by the sight of his friend; he had barely seen him since returning to the castle. Now, the other wizard looked just as bad as Rose – pale and short of breath. It gave him a terrible, sinking feeling. "Jem, what is it?"

"It's Nina," Jem said quickly, not even looking at Rose. "She's had an accident."

The instant the two wizards reached the hospital wing, Rose on their heels – for she had insisted on coming – they were sent away by Madam Pomfrey again, who refused to let them enter. The three settled in the hallway outside, conjuring chairs and staring at each other in confusion. Rose, having had two shocks in a row, looked positively bewildered; accordingly, Scorpius was the first to recover his powers of speech.

"How did you know so soon?" he asked Jem haltingly. "That something happened to Nina?"

"Laura Runcorn told me," Jem said reluctantly, after casting an uneasy glance at Rose. "She saw her being carried out of Gobstones. Apparently one of the balls they were using was filled with poison, and when it fired at her - "

Scorpius sucked in his breath, and Jem went no further. Rose was staring at them both, eyes round as saucers. "Who would do that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Weasley," Jem said curtly, but Scorpius fell silent. He was remembering his argument with Nina before the holidays – when she had said she felt threatened, that someone had written Mudblood on her window, that she suspected Orchid to be involved…

But Orchid wouldn't do something like this. With poison. She couldn't have. Who, then?

It seemed an eternity passed as the three sat there, tense and waiting, before Madam Pomfrey came to the door again. The expression on her face gave them some relief; as did her assurance that Nina was out of immediate danger.

"She's sleeping," the nurse informed them. "And it's past time you were doing the same. Don't you know that curfew was a half-hour ago?"

They mumbled negatives, and Madam Pomfrey fixed them with one last stern glance before bustling back into the ward. The three blinked at each other for a moment more, then Rose stepped forward.

"She'll be all right," she said, her eyes flicking over the other two wizards, whose faces were still pale. "You heard Madam Pomfrey. She'll be all right."

"She nearly died, Weasley," Jem snapped, his voice harsh. "You didn't see her."

"And neither did you," Rose pointed out, colour rising in her cheeks. "I'm just trying to help."

"You want to help? Leave us alone." Jem glared at her. Rose shifted her gaze to Scorpius, but he did not look her in the eye. After a moment, she gave up, and turned on her heel without another word, storming away from them.

Tears pricked her eyelids. It seemed as though a hundred emotions overwhelmed her at once – hurt that Scorpius had not stood up for her, concern for Nina, terror that someone had made an attempt on her friend's life, anger at Sharpwood, shock at the revelation that had crashed upon her in the library – at the face of that strange witch whose name she now knew to be Carlotta Pinkstone, the face which loomed in her mind, taunting her, laughing at her distress.

"Weasley!"

Scorpius caught up with her at the turn of the corridor, and put out his hand to stop her. "Weasley, I didn't mean – "

"Didn't mean what?" she demanded, not caring how shrill her voice sounded. "Do you think this is how friends act, Malfoy? Letting each other be attacked like that?"

Scorpius stared at her. "I had no idea that Nina was going to be - "

"I'm not talking about Nina!" Rose almost shouted. "I'm talking about me!"

He looked at her incredulously. "And here I was thinking you were being selfless for once. Weasley, now isn't exactly the best..."

"Sharpwood had no right to say those things to me!" Her throat was almost seizing up with tears now, and she hastily turned away before he noticed. "If you were really my friend, you would have defended me."

A minute passed before Scorpius spoke again. "Jem has a lot going on at the moment - "

"Well, so have I!" Rose's voice cracked, and she wiped at her eyes furiously, still facing away from him. She waited for the mocking words, the dry rebuttal, but none came.

Instead, Scorpius said, in a voice much gentler than he had ever used with her before, "I'm aware of that, Rose. But Jem and I – we haven't spoken properly for a long time. I want him to know that I'm still on his side. Especially now."

Now Rose felt loathsome, unforgivably self-absorbed, as she was reminded of why they were standing there in the first place – her friend had been in grave danger, and she was snivelling about something Sharpwood had said to her. Still, she could help reminding him, in a very small voice, "You said that we could be friends despite the complications. Or that we could at least try."

"I never said it would be easy," Scorpius said quietly.

Rose made a scornful noise, wiped her eyes once more, and, without turning, stalked away. This time, he made no attempt to follow her.

"I win again. Not much of a surprise."

"For someone who was recently poisoned, you're remarkably chipper."

Nina Meyer shrugged. She was sitting up in the hospital wing, a length of bandage obscuring her left cheek. "Why shouldn't I be? I survived, with minimal scarring, if Madam Pomfrey is to be believed."

"Hopefully, she is." Rose raised her eyebrows from where she sat by her friend's bedside. "Another round?" At the other girl's shake of the head, she began to gather up the loose cards on the bedside table. "You hungry? I brought some leftovers from breakfast."

"Not really, thanks." Nina looked wistful. "I've had a craving for Bertie Bott's all morning, though…"

"I think I still have a box of those in my trunk somewhere – I'll bring it to you later," Rose promised. "How much longer does Pomfrey want to keep you?"

"Another day, tops." Nina touched the bandage at the side of her face thoughtfully. "This is probably as healed as it's going to get."

Having gathered up all the cards and replaced them in the deck, Rose had nothing to busy herself with now, and stared at her friend's bedspread for a moment before speaking. "Do you have any idea who it was? Who could have done it?"

Slowly, Nina shook her head, and Rose felt a wave of disappointment. "No, I don't."

"Of course not – I mean - "

"Rose," Nina interrupted, her voice low. "There is something I do know."

"What?"

Her friend glanced down, then met Rose's gaze again. "Someone in the castle's been trying to scare me," she said. "Because I'm Muggleborn. I've had Mudblood written on my window, and other little things, and I think this – I think this might be connected to it."

Rose was cold all over. "Mudblood?" she whispered. "No one uses that word anymore – no one…" All she could think of now was her mother, and the stories she had told her about growing up in the wizarding world, facing that name again and again.

"They do." Nina swallowed, looking away again, towards the window. "That's why I fell out with my friends. I thought they had something to do with it. Some kind of prank. But now…"

Rose silently avowed that she wouldn't put it past a few of them – namely Orchid Ottelby and Torrance Bole, that nasty pair – but only said, "Malfoy and Sharpwood? You thought they were responsible?"

Nina shook her head. "Not them…. I thought they might know something about it, and weren't telling me. I – didn't know if I could trust them anymore." She looked at Rose. "But I knew I could trust you."

Rose didn't know what to say. She dropped her chin slightly. "Thank you."

"Don't let it go to your head." Nina smiled tightly. With a glance at her watch, "And you should probably get to class."

Cursing mildly, Rose got to her feet. "Yes, I'm late already." She had said goodbye and was making to turn away when something else occurred to her, and she swung back to face Nina.

"Why didn't you tell me before? About the… Mudblood thing?" The word was slimy in her mouth; she hated to speak it.

Nina was still sitting up, and for the first time, she looked slightly ashamed. "I should have," she said frankly. "You, of all people, would have understood. But I suppose I didn't trust you enough. And - " she hesitated, " – I didn't want to give you more ammunition against my friends."

Rose nodded, and replied, just as frankly, "You don't need to worry about that anymore."

News of Nina Meyer's attack had soon spread around the castle as quickly as the news of the Manticore attack on Summer Birchgrove had a few months before. There were those same ominous murmurings in the corridors, the same harried looking professors and knots of solemn-faced students gathering at various points around the castle to compare theories.

"I hate this," Scorpius muttered, his voice barely audible over the din of the other students. It was breaktime, and they had been herded into a stuffy first-floor classroom by the Aurors stationed in the Entrance Hall.

Jem cast a glance at the rain pelting the windows outside before returning to his book. "It's January. What do you expect?"

"No," Scorpius said, biting back an impatient retort, "I meant - " Then he glimpsed the shadow of a grin on his friend's face, even as he kept reading, and gave a little snort of involuntary laughter. "You know what I meant."

Jem nodded, his smile fading. "You meant Nina. And the way she seems to be the only thing people can talk about these days."

"I think I can handle that." The two boys jumped, and turned to see the subject of their conversation standing a few paces away from their desk. The hum of chatter in the room had a different quality to it now, and the occupants of the other desks were all but craning their necks to get a glimpse of a still-bandaged Nina Meyer, who was wearing a sarcastic smile. She had pulled her black hair into a low ponytail, a few strands framing her features rather dramatically.

"It's quite a novelty," she deadpanned, sitting gingerly on the free chair beside Jem and reaching for her satchel. "Being the centre of attention. I think I could get used to it."

"When did you get out of the hospital wing?" Scorpius demanded.

"About an hour ago. Madam Pomfrey was getting sick of me." Nina's expression had not changed; it was still as nonchalant as though they were discussing the weather. As though she hadn't been avoiding them for the past month.

Scorpius was having none of that. "So are you still angry at us?"

Nina's dark brown eyes met his, and she seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then she shook her head. "I thought…"

"That we knew something about who threatened you," Scorpius said coolly. "Who painted Mudblood in your dormitory. That we knew, and we didn't see fit to tell you." Across from him, Jem had straightened up in his seat, and was watching them both closely.

Nina's jaw tightened, and she looked down at the surface of the desk. "I thought Orchid might have passed it off as a joke, and sworn you to secrecy, or something - "

"Which doesn't make any kind of sense," Jem remarked, putting down his book. "Secrecy would imply a kind of solemnity."

"And what makes you so sure Orchid was behind the threats, anyway?" Scorpius added. "You can't possibly still think that, Nina, you know Orchid wouldn't try to poison you."

"I'm almost certain that Orchid painted Mudblood on my window," Nina said quietly, still looking down. "And as for what happened at Gobstones - " She shook her head again, leaving the sentence hanging, and the two boys sat in silence, unable to drag their eyes from the bandage on her left cheek. Around them, the students had resumed their normal volume of conversation, though a few still shot glances at the trio in the corner.

At last, Nina rested her forearms on the desk before her and met their gazes again. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I should have trusted you. Both of you."

Scorpius glanced at Jem, then back at Nina. "I'm sorry, too."

An expectant silence ensued as they both looked at Jem, who eventually shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's that, then. Can I get back to my book?"

"Yes, you can get back to your book, Jem," Nina said dryly. "Thank you for your meaningful contribution." Her eyes met Scorpius's as she fought a smile. Not for the first time in the past two days, he felt a wave of relief that she was all right.

A few minutes of companionable silence passed, then Nina said casually, "Oh, by the way, did I mention that Weasley would be joining us? I told her to meet us here. She promised to bring some Bertie Bott's for me."

Scorpius, who had been squinting at Professor Broadmoor's tiny writing on the roll of parchment before him, slowly raised his head to stare at Nina. Across from him, Jem looked as though he had been struck by a Bludger.

"Don't worry," Nina said sweetly, returning to her Charms textbook. "I don't mind sharing."

Rose Weasley was immensely relieved when she stepped into her dormitory to find it empty. It had been a particularly trying morning; she had been late for Defence against the Dark Arts after visiting Nina in the hospital wing, and Professor Cattermole had been hard on her for the remainder of the class. Then Professor Binns had given them a two-foot long essay in History of Magic – due in two days' time – and then she had forgotten her bag in Transfiguration and had to run back for it, making her late for Potions.

It was noon before she had time to return to Gryffindor Tower and fulfill her promise to Nina, who, surprisingly, had been let out of the hospital wing early. Sighing, Rose leaned her back against the door of the dormitory, passed a hand over her flushed face and attempted to slow her breathing. Two days back at school, and already she felt utterly swamped… in more than one way.

Once she had collected herself, she dropped her bag by the foot of her bed and knelt, pulling out her trunk. As she had already unpacked, it was nearly empty; only a thin layer of forgotten items lined the bottom, some of them left over from summer. An old Sneakoscope, a half-full tube of mascara, and, sure enough, an untouched box of Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans.

Well, at least one thing was going right for her today. With a half-smile, Rose seized the box. As she lifted it out of the trunk, something else came with it, fluttering onto her lap. She glanced at it. A Chocolate Frog card. That was the one she had confiscated from the first-year boy on the train at the beginning of the year. Her first official act as a sixth-year prefect.

Then she glanced at the card again, and promptly dropped the box of Bertie Bott's. For on the card, printed in gold lettering, were the letters Carlotta Pinkstone, and beneath it, a photograph of the very same witch she had encountered in Knockturn Alley. She was a good deal older than she had appeared in the picture Scorpius had found earlier in the library, her hands were shackled, and she bore a furious sign which read: STOP SPELL SUPPRESSION!

Rose's heart was thumping in her chest so hard that it hurt, and her mouth was dry as she hastily read the brief description below the photograph. Famous campaigner for lifting the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy and telling Muggles that wizards still exist. Ms. Pinkstone has been imprisoned several times for her blatant and deliberate use of magic in public places.

Rising to her feet, Rose pushed her hair back off her forehead and strode to the window, then back again. She had read the description five more times, Carlotta Pinkstone gazing insolently up at her, before the meaning of it began to trickle into her mind. Then it made sense. All of it. It made horrible, horrible sense.

The reports that had been popping up in the Prophet since summer – of Derek Podmore, the Obliviator, arrested for failing to wipe the memories of a Muggle journalist. And Scorpius's own mother, Astoria – she had been an Obliviator, too. Her breakout from Azkaban could only have been pulled off by someone very powerful… or a group of powerful people. Carlotta Pinkstone was not operating alone. There was Blaise Zabini, too, and Geoffrey Alderton, with Andromeda under their thrall…

Rose halted in the middle of the dormitory. Had her own mother's poisoning been a mere means to an end? A way of getting Astoria Malfoy, an upholder of the Statute of Secrecy, arrested? Or had it been more than that? Unbidden, her aunt Ginny's words came floating back to her, spoken months ago. Your mum has made a lot of enemies in the last twenty years. All the new acts she's passed: protecting house-elves and Muggles, eradicating pro-pureblood laws…

Does it really surprise you that your parents have enemies? That was what Carlotta Pinkstone had asked her in Knockturn Alley. Was that her game, then? To get revenge on her mother for passing acts that had directly served to strengthen the Statute of Secrecy? The vendetta of a crazed fanatic?

The Chocolate Frog card was still in her hand, and Rose read the description yet again. There was something else, nagging at the back of her brain – a missing puzzle piece. She knew that she would not be satisfied until she had found it out, and strode out of the dormitory without delay, leaving the box of Bertie Bott's behind her.

A quarter of an hour had passed, and still no sign of Weasley. Not that Scorpius minded – on the contrary, it was a relief, and the look on Jem's face made him hope that she would not turn up at all. He could not sit through another argument between those two; not when Rose's accusing words still echoed in his mind, the hurt look on her face. If you were really my friend, you would have defended me.

That had been ridiculous of her, Scorpius reminded himself. A typical example of how self-absorbed she always was. Well – nearly always.

Why did she care so much about being his friend, anyway? What difference did it make to her, really?

Before he could follow up that thought, Scorpius heard Jem groan, and glanced up to see Rose Weasley dragging over a fourth chair to their table, bag swinging on her shoulder. She looked distracted, her eyes rather too bright and an unhealthy flush in her cheek. "Sorry I'm late," she said to Nina. She was indeed late – the other students had already begun to make their way out of the classroom.

"Tell me you at least brought the sweets," Nina said dryly.

Rose cursed. "I forgot! Sorry, Nina." She ran a hand through her hair, looking a bit wild as she finally took in her surroundings. To her left, Jem was looking extremely uncomfortable, and had retreated completely into his book. Her eyes met Scorpius's briefly, then danced away again. Meanwhile, Nina was bemoaning Weasley's forgetfulness, and the latter was apologising yet again with almost exaggerated contrition.

"I think we'll survive without a box of Bertie Bott's," Scorpius cut in at last, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Nina mock-glared at him, and Rose looked uncertain.

"I had such an awful morning, Nina, you wouldn't believe it," she was saying when Jem abruptly rose from the table, tucking his book under his arm.

"Where are you going?" Scorpius demanded, rising as well. His friend waved him away, without so much as a glance in Weasley's direction, and moved towards the door. Reluctant to be left alone with the two witches – whose new friendship he still could not quite understand – Scorpius made to follow after Jem anyway, but a hand closed over his arm.

Twisting, he saw that Rose had caught hold of him, and was urging him with her eyes to stay. As Nina was watching them both carefully, Scorpius shook her off and relented, sitting once more.

"If this is about yesterday - " he began wearily, but Rose cut across him.

"This has nothing to do with that." She folded her arms, and a rather long pause followed before Nina finally took her leave, muttering that she would catch up with Jem, and left the two at the table.

Silently, Rose drew a Chocolate Frog card from her pocket and pushed it across the table to him with utter solemnity. Scorpius was perplexed for only a moment before he read the name on the front, and saw the picture. Then, his surprise increased as he discovered what, exactly, Carlotta Pinkstone was known for.

"The anti-Statute of Secrecy campaign," he breathed, holding the card up before him. "Of course."

"I read up on it in the library," Rose said, and though he could tell that she was trying, she could not restrain her excitement. "That's why I was late. There were countless campaigns, each with its own particular symbol or message, of course, but the one headed by Pinkstone emphasised truth." She widened her blue eyes significantly, and Scorpius stared right back at her. "Her followers called themselves Truthseekers. They started off with harmless demonstrations in Diagon Alley, but the campaign grew more and more militant, they began exposing themselves to Muggles, then spiriting those Muggles away before their memories could be wiped. They would gather at the gateways to the wizarding world and lure Muggles in, to show them what lay beyond… and as more and more people began to join the movement, they started donning the symbol that Pinkstone always wore around her neck. The old symbol for truth."

"The same symbol we saw in the North Tower, and in Knockturn Alley," Scorpius finished, shaking his head.

"All this time, that card was just sitting in my trunk. I wouldn't have looked twice at it if you hadn't shown me that photograph – if I hadn't recognised her…" Rose trailed off, as Scorpius looked at her sharply.

"You've met her. Carlotta Pinkstone. Haven't you?"

For the first time, Rose looked slightly sheepish. "That's… a long story."

Grimly, Scorpius folded his arms. "I'm listening."

"Why did you run off?"

Jeremy Sharpwood turned as he cleared the first-floor staircase to see that Nina had followed him from the classroom. He sighed. "Why do you think?"

"She's not that bad, you know." Nina reached his side just as Jem started walking again.

"We are not talking about this."

"It looks like we are." She matched his stride, glancing over at him. "You know, if you just gave Rose a chance…"

"Who are you and what have you done with Nina Meyer?" Jem spluttered.

His friend did not smile. Looking straight ahead, she said quietly, "Scorpius told me about your dad."

"What, that he's dying?" Jem said harshly. At her nod, he shrugged his shoulders. "So? What does that have to do with Weasley?"

"I think," Nina said carefully, as they reached the entrance hall, "That you might be looking for someone to blame – to be angry at, and - "

" – I'm lashing out at Weasley? How original of you, Nina."

"This isn't like you, Jem."

The sound of hissing rain outside the castle walls grew louder as they passed the phoenix monument, around which a couple of Aurors stood guard, and reached the entrance to the dungeons. Jem halted, turning to Nina. "If you're such good friends with Weasley, why are you here at all? Why didn't you stay with her?"

Now Nina looked uncomfortable and a little hurt; with a jolt of guilt, Jem realised that he had struck a nerve. "She didn't want me there," she muttered. "Neither did Scorpius."

"You mean they - " Jem paused, struggling to quell the horrible thought. "They wanted to be alone together?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know if it's like that, but… yeah."

Pushing open the door of the dungeons with more force than he would normally have used, Jem faced away from his friend again as his jaw tightened. "I don't understand this. A few months ago, Weasley was making his life hell – and now, he's making nice with her? As if none of that ever happened? You say I'm not myself these days – but that's not Scorpius."

"What about me?" Nina demanded as they descended the stairs, their footfalls echoing on the stone. "I'm making nice with her, too, if you want to put it like that."

Jem pursed his lips. "But it's not the same. You were isolated when you made friends with her – vulnerable. You didn't know if you could trust any of us anymore, and Weasley drew you in."

"You're talking about her like she's some manipulative mastermind, Jem, but that's giving Rose far more credit than she deserves. She hasn't got a charismatic bone in her body – she's not like…"

"Orchid?" Jem suggested. There was a tense silence, then Nina nodded.

"Not like Orchid." Nina sighed. "I'm telling you, Jem, Weasley's all right."

"Let's not forget the things she's done, Nina," he said curtly. "She got Scorpius's mum thrown into a cell, she accused us all of stealing Polyjuice Potion – her brother stole my identity and now he's walking around Hogwarts again as though nothing happened - "

"Her brother, not Rose," Nina broke in as they reached the common room entrance. "And he was suspended for two months, Jem. I wouldn't call that nothing."

"Bloody Merlin, I was attacked, Nina!"

"I hadn't forgotten," she said in a low voice.

"No, of course not. You of all people should understand how it feels to be constantly looking over your shoulder – afraid to walk the corridors alone - "

"I do, but - "

"If Scorpius had pulled a stunt like that Hugo did," Jem finished, "He would have been out of Hogwarts in a second, no questions asked."

"You think I don't know that?" Nina leaned her back against the stone. "Look, I see where you're coming from, Jem. And I really don't want to fall out over this, not when we've just made things right again - "

"Me neither," he interjected quietly, not quite meeting her gaze.

" – but like it or not, Weasley is here to stay." She looked at him squarely. "Whatever it is that she and Scorpius have going on, be it friendship or – " uncomfortably, " - whatever it is, I don't see it ending any time soon."

After Rose had finished her story, Scorpius was silent for a long time. They sat in the now deserted classroom, directly opposite one another, and her hands were folded on the table before her, trembling very slightly.

"So she just let you go?" he said at last. "Carlotta Pinkstone? She let you and your brother go, with the Deluminator?"

"I tricked her into thinking I was going to hand it over," Rose said. She frowned. "Or – at least, I thought I did. But Hugo seems to think it was all deliberate. That she let us go, Deluminator and all. To leave a message to our parents that she was powerful, that she could take us whenever she wanted..."

"But you saw her face," Scorpius pointed out. "She must have known you'd investigate – find out who she was. And considering that she's supposed to be locked in a permanent cell in Azkaban at the moment, I think many people would be interested to learn that she's back in England. Why would she blow her cover like that? It doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe she wants people to know she's back." Rose paused, then shrugged, slumping back in her seat. Something in her face changed. "Or maybe she just doesn't care what I do. She certainly gave off that impression."

Scorpius raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you actually offended that this woman didn't take more notice of you? A crazed fanatic who once chained herself to the Fountain of Magical Brethren for an entire week to protest the Statute of Secrecy?"

"No." Rose withdrew her hands from the table, placing them in her lap, and turned her face towards the window. The weak, watery rays of light that had broken through the rainfall filtered on her profile, making her pale skin glow momentarily. "I mean… maybe? I don't know."

"Why do you give a damn what she thinks? Need I repeat the part about her being crazy?"

"She didn't seem crazy." Rose ran her hands through her red hair, gathering it to the nape of her neck and then draping it over one shoulder. His eyes followed the movement. "She seemed… sane. Rational. And – she knew me."

"Knew you?" Scorpius was a little distracted by the way stray strands of her hair were clinging to her neck in the humidity of the room.

"Just from looking at me, she could – tell everything about me. Everything I was thinking. I didn't have to say a word."

"Legilimency," he said at once, but Rose shook her head.

"It wasn't that. It wasn't – magic. She just knew everything about me because it was… obvious." Rose swallowed, still looking away. "Because I'm obvious."

Her voice sounded so small that Scorpius did not know what to say. He tapped his fingers on the surface of the table for a moment, then began, "Weasley, you're not - "

"You've said it to me before," she challenged, meeting his eye. "So has Nina. That I'm transparent, I can't be subtle."

"Fine." Scorpius lifted his shoulders. "So what if you are obvious? Is that such a bad thing?"

Rose leaned back in her chair, tipping her face up towards the ceiling. "You wouldn't understand."

"Enlighten me. What sort of things did she know about you?" At her silence, he persisted, "You can tell me, Weasley."

She made a huffing sort of noise. "No, I can't."

"Why?"

Now her voice was barely audible. "Because it's stupid."

"I'll be the judge of that." Scorpius folded his arms. "Come on. What did Pinkstone claim to know about you?"

Rose blew out a breath. "She knew – that I wanted to be different from my parents."

"Well, everyone wants that, don't they?"

"Not – in that way." She swallowed again, her exposed throat bobbing. "I wanted her to see me as a threat – me, and not my parents – because it would have given me something of my own, for once. The whole investigation into my mother's poisoning… I felt like that was mine. Sometimes I think it was the only thing that kept me going. But - " here her voice grew bitter, " – it wasn't mine. Everything I found out, every stride I thought I'd made, my parents had already been there before me."

"And Pinkstone told you this?" Scorpius asked quietly.

Rose nodded, dropping her chin so that her face was level with his once more, though she still did not look directly at him. "She was right, too. It's always been that way. Nothing I do ever counts for anything, because they've already done it. They've done everything, and I can never - "

She broke off, but Scorpius knew what she had been about to say. That she felt she could never match up to her parents. Another sign of her self-absorption – after all, if the past few months were any indication, there were much larger things at stake now than Rose Weasley's own feelings of inadequacy - and yet – and yet, he could not pretend that he did not understand it.

"What about Andromeda?" he found himself saying. Rose flinched. "Your parents couldn't have known about what really happened to her."

"No. Not until I told them." She looked down. "But it's not exactly something I can be proud of."

What could he say to that? She was right, after all. Eventually, Scorpius ventured, "Pinkstone was probably just trying to get under your skin, Weasley. Distract you."

"That's just it." Rose stood from the table, and reached out her hand for the Chocolate Frog card. Scorpius gave it to her, and she gazed down at Carlotta Pinkstone's defiant face. "I don't think she was. I don't think she cared enough to try to get under my skin. She was just… being honest."

Cassie Miller rested her chin on her hands, savouring the warmth of the common room fire on her face and resolving not to think about the pile of books and parchment that sat waiting for her upstairs. It had been a stormy day, so she hadn't had the chance to fly; and now she felt the energy pent up within her, a knot of tension in her muscles that slowly eased as she stretched out on the hearth.

And tightened up once more as James Potter plonked himself down beside her.

She sat up immediately, pulling herself into a more respectable position and fixing what she hoped was a calm, detached expression on her face. "What is it?"

"I shouldn't have dismissed you," James said, without preamble. At her raised eyebrows, he added, "Before Christmas, when you asked about Nott and the Ministry investigation…"

"I remember," Cassie said dryly.

"The truth was, I didn't want to involve you. I thought if I just acted like there was nothing going on, you would take the hint and stop asking questions – just forget - " As a scowling Cassie opened her mouth to speak, he continued hastily, " – but then I realised how unfair that was. That you were already involved, like it or not, and..."

"And?" she prompted.

"And…" James took a breath. "I could use your help with something."

"Oh, so now that you have some use for me - " she began, half-teasing, half-serious, but he interrupted,

"I want you to keep an eye on Penny."

Cassie stared. "Come again?"

"Be on the lookout for any strange behaviour. Take note of who she spends time with during the day, what time she comes back at night, if she regularly skips curfew - "

"Have you lost your mind?"

"You share a dormitory with her, don't you?" He shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant, but Cassie thought she saw a mischievous gleam in his brown eyes as he regarded her. "It shouldn't be too hard to keep track of someone you see day and night."

"This is a joke, isn't it?" Cassie looked at him hard. "You're winding me up."

James grinned. "I'm not, I swear. But it was funny to see your reaction when I didn't give any context."

"Potter…"

"Fine, fine." His grin vanished, and she was almost sorry she had spoken as his eyes grew grave. He lowered his voice in case the second-years occupying the armchairs behind them could hear, and said, "Were you aware that Penny's brother is an Auror?"

"Yes. Geoffrey. I've met him a few times, he's a nice bloke." Cassie narrowed her eyes at James. "Why?"

"And you haven't seen him around the castle for some time, I'm guessing? Since before Christmas?"

"James, where is this going?"

"Have you?"

"No." Cassie sighed.

"You haven't seen him because he's on the run." James cast another glance around the crowded common room, though no one was paying them any attention. "They've kept it quiet up until now, but all the staff have been notified, and an internal investigation of the Auror Office is in the works."

"On the run? What did he do?" She was whispering now, her eyes wide.

James met her gaze. "They think he helped poison Rose's mum. At the wedding."

"So… it wasn't Astoria Malfoy."

"No. Rose and I found out just before the holidays and told Hobspawn, but by that time, Alderton had already fled."

Something clenched within Cassie's stomach then, and she looked away from James, curling her hand into a fist as it rested on the hearth. "She never told me."

"She didn't tell anyone apart from me," James said, a hint of impatience to his tone. "And can you blame her, really? She didn't want Geoffrey to get wind of anything. Of course, it seems he did, regardless, since he left the same night that Rose told me about him."

"Do you think someone tipped him off?" Cassie frowned. "You're not saying that Penny…"

"I don't know where Penny stands in all of this. That's why I need you to find out for me." He paused, then went on, "My gut feeling tells me that she knows something. When I visited her house during Christmas, there was something about her – that was just off. I dunno."

"I see you spent your holiday more productively than I did," Cassie quipped.

"Will you do it or not?"

She pretended to consider. "Oh, I don't know… will I spy on my roommate just because you told me to? Such a difficult decision to make."

He blinked at her. "I just explained…"

"There's a bit of a pattern developing here, James," she cut him off, folding her arms. "Don't you think? You treat me like shit, then apologise and get me to help you with whatever you're mixed up in, then drop me again when I'm no longer useful to you."

"That's not - "

"I'm not here to be used," Cassie interrupted. "I'm here to be a friend, if you need me to be. But you can't walk all over me just because you know that you can – because you know how I - "

She came to an abrupt halt, cheeks burning. James was silent beside her. Cassie could not meet his eye, and so could not tell if he knew what she had just stopped herself from saying. How I feel about you.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "If that's worth anything to you."

Cassie felt some relief at his level tone – perhaps he hadn't noticed – and was able to respond airily, "Well, it's a start."

"I don't see you like that," he went on. "Like someone I can use. Maybe I might give off that impression sometimes, but I don't – it's not - " Uncharacteristically, he was stumbling over his words. " – I do see you as a friend."

"I've got my own stuff going on too, you know," she reminded him.

"I know that, and I'd be grateful for any time you can spare to do this – thing for me."

"I wouldn't be comfortable with it," Cassie said, after a moment's pause. "At all."

"That's… understandable."

She had to fight a smile now. "Why don't you just use your map?"

"How did you - " James swore. "I'd forgotten Albus told you about that. Smart, my brother." He shot a half-hearted glare in the direction of the latter, who was studying in a corner, and appeared not to notice. "Well, the map can only tell you so much. By reading it, I'm able to see where Penny is going at night, who she might meet with, but I don't know what she says, or how she acts, or…"

"Right. I'm going to ignore the creepiness of the fact that you can trace the movements of anyone in the castle at any given time, and focus on the important thing in all this: that you might be onto something." Cassie met James's gaze. "I'll do it."

He clasped her hand momentarily. "Thank you."

Cassie simply nodded in response as he released her hand, trying to ignore the way her skin tingled where he had touched it.

Because the truth was, he could walk all over her, and she would let him – and she would forgive him when he apologised, each time – because when it came to James Potter, she was a greater fool than she had any right to be.

Scorpius hadn't felt so uncomfortable in a long time. Uneasy, yes – threatened, yes – but not this profound awkwardness that was getting better of him as he patrolled the fourth-floor corridor with Diana Turpin. It was unbearable.

What made it worse was that she was attempting to make conversation. If he had hoped for the tense, stony silences of his and Weasley's initial patrols, then he was out of luck. Not only did Diana seem determined to talk, at all costs; she expected him to contribute as well.

"The thing is," she was saying as they rounded the corner of the corridor, "Lisa lied to Summer. She told her that she was OK with her and James Potter going out, but she's not. She's had this massive crush on him since first year, see, and Summer knew that, but I suppose she kind of thought Lisa should have gone for it before now? What do you think?"

"Er – about -"

"About Lisa liking James," the petite Ravenclaw said patiently. "Does she have any claim over him if she's never told him how she feels? Is it really fair of her to resent Summer for going for it?"

"I, er, suppose not -"

"Exactly. That's what I said." Diana appeared satisfied. No, not just satisfied – was she actually enjoying this? He didn't remember her being this much of a conversationalist last year; then again, they had never really done much talking…

" – and Summer's never around these days, either, which makes it way worse. So Jackie and I have to sit there and try to make Lisa feel better whenever she gets all upset about James. It shouldn't have to be us, you know? Summer's the one who's going out with him; she should be the one to deal with Lisa. Then again, why should she? It's not like she did anything wrong, when you think about it. Do you think she did anything wrong?"

"Who? Summer or Lisa?"

"Summer. Do you think she did anything wrong?"

"No," he said slowly. Then, coming to a halt, "Diana."

"Yes, Scorpius?" She turned towards him expectantly. Merlin, she was stunning – that soft, sleek brown hair that curled so neatly on her shoulders, her pale, creamy complexion, and those deep, dark eyes that never seemed to give away any of her thoughts…

Last year, he remembered that last detail exciting him – her mysteriousness – but now, he found himself thinking of Rose Weasley's clear blue eyes instead. Those eyes hid nothing; they invited him in, to share in her sorrows and fears and joys…

I'm obvious, Rose had said to him earlier, as though it were the worst thing in the world to be, and he had wanted to tell her that it wasn't – that, in fact, it was one of the things he liked the most about her.

"Scorpius?"

He had gotten seriously sidetracked. Shaking himself out of his reverie, Scorpius looked down at Diana. There was a good six inch height difference between them – he hadn't forgotten that since last year. "Would you mind making a quick detour to the Owlery?"

She looked surprised, and perhaps a little disappointed that was all he had to say. "Of – of course not. Are you expecting a letter?"

"No, just a Charms book I ordered a few weeks ago. It was due to arrive today."

"Oh." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Diana Turpin smile a little as they took a shortcut behind a tapestry and up a sprawling staircase. "Scorpius, can I ask you something?"

"Ye-es."

She paused. "Do you remember at the start of the year? When we bumped into each other outside Professor Harris's classroom, and I asked you if you were joining Charms Club?"

Of course Scorpius remembered, though it was not a memory he was particularly proud of. Pretending to consider, he then nodded.

"You said you were just taking a shortcut, but I – well, I didn't really believe you. Professor Harris is always raving about you in class, and I knew that she had asked you to join…" Diana did not meet his gaze as they reached the top of the staircase and proceeded down a short, dimly-lit hallway. "Were you going to join Charms club, Scorpius? Did I – stop you, somehow?"

Scorpius sighed. The entrance to the Owlery was before them now, but neither seemed particularly inclined to go in just yet. "It wasn't you, exactly. Seeing you just reminded me of some stupid things the others had been saying, about how Charms club was only meant for Hufflepuff girls…"

"I'm a Ravenclaw," Diana reminded him primly, half-teasing. "We're not all the same, you know."

"I know." Scorpius allowed himself a small smile, moving back to let her into the Owlery first. "You were just – a dose of reality, I suppose."

"How do you mean?"

He shrugged, fixing his gaze on his owl Gaspard's high perch. The drop in temperature as they entered the tower made them both shiver, but Scorpius was grateful for the distraction, for, defying all odds, the conversation had become even more uncomfortable; now it focused on him.

"I was just… reminded that Charms Club was something I couldn't do," he said eventually.

Diana remained close to the door, hugging herself as Scorpius walked further into the Owlery and held out his hand, calling to his owl. "Because of your father?"

Scorpius did not turn to look at her as Gaspard alighted on his shoulder, nipping at his ear in greeting. No Charms book, but a letter. Taking the roll of parchment clutched in his owl's talons, he stared at it for a moment, his mind blank of any retort to give to Diana; she had taken him by surprise.

"I remember you saying last year that he thought Charms was a waste of time," his companion said by way of explanation.

Scorpius could not remember saying any such thing to Diana Turpin – but then again, his memory concerning her had already been proven to be far from infallible.

"He did then, and still does," he said shortly, "But that had nothing to do with it. It was my decision to make, and not my father's."

"Of course."

She said it smoothly, but there was something aggravatingly false in her tone that set Scorpius's teeth on edge. He was about to issue another terse retort when his eyes fell on the writing on the parchment before him, and their conversation was instantly forgotten.

"Diana," he said abruptly. "I need you to cover for me. For the next half-hour or so, until the patrol is finished."

"Cover for you – how?"

"If you meet any Aurors or members of staff, tell them that I felt sick and had to return to my dormitory."

"And where will you really be?"

"I have to meet someone in the village. Hobspawn threatened me with a suspension if I was caught leaving the castle without permission again - " he paused, and looked down. " – which is why you can't tell anyone where I've gone."

Diana pursed her lips. "I can't believe you're doing something so dangerous, Scorpius. After your friend was attacked in Gobstones the other day – and now you're sneaking out alone…"

"I really don't have time for a lecture, Diana."

"You're risking a lot, that's all I'm saying."

Scorpius met her eye. "I don't exactly have a choice."

His mother had written to him. An unsigned note, like the one he had received on Christmas Eve. Scorpius summoned a flame with his wand as soon as he had parted ways with Diana, and watched the parchment burn until it had fully disintegrated into ashes, drifting to the floor of the corridor.

The only passage out of the castle that he knew about was the one on the third floor, behind the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor; the one he had taken with Rose that fateful night, and the same one that he had travelled through about a month later to meet with his aunt. He prayed that the Aurors had not blocked it since then.

Diana was right, of course. He was taking a huge risk. But there was no question as to whether or not he should take it – the tenor of his mother's note had been urgent.

Scorpius ground to a halt at the bottom of the fourth-floor staircase when he saw Jem's figure making his way towards him. His friend's eyes were ringed with red behind his glasses.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

Jem shook his head, avoiding his gaze. "Just – just got news from home. About Dad. He's getting worse."

Scorpius came forward, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm - sorry, mate."

"I should go to him."

"Maybe – or maybe not…" Scorpius was at a loss. "Whatever you think is best."

Jem shrugged at this. After a moment, Scorpius removed his hand and made to go along, but his friend said, "Will you stay for a few minutes? I don't want to be alone right now."

Scorpius stopped short just past Jem. He had never heard his friend speak like that before – state his needs so matter-of-factly – and it shocked him a little. Then it just pained him.

"I can't," he said quietly, hating himself even as the words came out of his mouth. "I have to go somewhere now, Jem, I'm sorry. But I promise I'll be back soon – and then, we can talk…"

He trailed off. Jem did not say anything. Scorpius could not see his face – did not want to. So he left.

He walked away.

Jem shouldn't have been surprised. After everything that had happened with Scorpius over the past few months – how could he have expected any more from him?

He stepped into the empty common room, and slumped into the nearest armchair, staring at the dim green water of the lake visible through the wide windows. He thought of his father as he had seen him during the holidays – grey and so thin, so painfully, dangerously thin… He wondered what he looked like now.

"Hey, Sharpwood."

Twisting, Jem saw Torrance Bole approaching from the other side of the room.

"I didn't know you were here."

"I'm quiet," Torrance said with a half-smile, then looked more closely at Jem. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Jem said with another shrug.

"If you say so." His classmate took a seat in the adjacent armchair, running a hand through his plain brown hair, and, after a moment, produced a glass bottle from his pocket. "Care for a Firewhiskey?"

"I don't drink."

"Yeah, I think that's the problem." Still smiling, somewhat ruefully, the other boy took a swig from the bottle, and then Jem held out his hand.

"Fine. I could use one."

"I was waiting for you to say that." Grinning now, Torrance handed over the Firewhiskey, and Jem took a sip from it. It wasn't his first – he had sampled before – but he had forgotten how the alcohol spread through his veins like liquid fire, blazing through every maybe and perhaps and making everything so clear…

"So where's Malfoy?" Torrance asked after some minutes had passed with the two boys passing the bottle between them.

Jem lifted his shoulders. "Haven't a clue. Never do these days."

"No, me neither." Torrance pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I wonder what he's up to."

"I couldn't care less," Jem said, and meant it.

Scorpius could not find it within himself to feel relieved when he found the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor of the castle to be unguarded – or even when he stepped into the darkness unimpeded and began on his way to Hogsmeade. All he kept seeing was the look on Jem's face.

I don't want to be alone right now.

An appeal. Almost a plea – and he had ignored it. What kind of friend was he?

The bad kind, evidently. Scorpius did his best to dispel those thoughts as he went along; and as he drew closer to Hogsmeade, thoughts of a different nature began to take form in his brain. He wondered why his mother had summoned him. Was she hurt? Was she in danger? Was he in danger? But that was a stupid thing to ask himself; he nearly always was these days.

The interior of Honeydukes' was dark and cluttered with numerous boxes that Scorpius tripped over, cursing, before finally deciding that lighting his wand was worth the risk. He picked the lock of the shop's back door and slipped out into the freezing night, shielding the light with a fold of his cloak.

The houses were dark and quiet around him – ominously so. He stepped cautiously through the back gardens, keeping to the shadows.

When he reached the lone apothecary's cottage that marked the edge of the village, he did as the note had instructed him and waited in the back garden, though it sent chills down his spine, though the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, though his heart pounded in his chest and he thought of a hundred things that could have happened to his mother since she had sent that note – that might already have happened to her.

The crack of twigs caused him to twist, fumbling for his wand – but he saw green eyes shining through the darkness, and something within him collapsed. Then his mother's arms were around him; her familiar scent embracing him, and all he could do was stand there, bury his head in her shoulder as tears pricked his eyelids.

It had been months. Months since he had seen her. He said goodbye to her on the day that school had started – since the day of her hearing. Then, she had been pale and drawn – but strong, and determined. And beautiful. But now; she felt light and bony as he hugged her. The light of his wand showed the features of her face as sharp and strained, more like his aunt's now – and her hair was streaked with spiderwebs of grey that had not been there before. Something in his stomach twisted.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said thickly as she pulled back to look at him, keeping a hold of his arms.

"I would never have let that happen," she said firmly, even as her own eyes shone with tears. She gazed at him as though she could never see enough of him.

"But, Mum - " He struggled to gather his thoughts. "Why – why are you here? Why risk so much to see me? Are you hurt, or do you need money, or - "

His mother shook her head, casting a glance around them. "I know it's dangerous for both of us to be here, and I'm sorry. But I had to warn you, Scorpius."

"About the castle? I know it's dangerous, I - "

"Not the castle." His mother's head drooped. "Your father."

Scorpius tensed. "You didn't write to him at Christmas – you only wrote to me."

"Because it would seem your father is beyond help. Anything I say to him will only make the situation worse."

"I don't understand." He felt himself pulling away from her, instinctively.

"Just hear me out, Scorpius." Astoria Malfoy reached out and grasped his hands with her own cold ones. "Do you know how I got out of Azkaban?"

"It was something he did, wasn't it?" Scorpius stared at her. "Mum, where have you been since then? What have you been doing?"

"Moving from place to place. Never staying anywhere for too long. Trying to stay close to you." She smiled ruefully. "But none of that is important now. Scorpius, do you know it was your father did? To get me out?"

"No."

His mother took a breath. "He robbed a vault in Gringotts."

"That was the task they set him?" Scorpius felt sick. "What did he take?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "All I know is that he was acting on Blaise Zabini's orders – and Blaise was under a witch called Carlotta Pinkstone's command."

"I've heard of Carlotta Pinkstone." His and Weasley's discovery in the library seemed like a lifetime ago now. Scorpius shook his head as though to clear it. "Zabini is working for her?" But it made sense – of course it did.

"Yes." Astoria fixed her gaze on him. "And, Scorpius, what your father did wasn't a once-off. He's deep in with them now. He can't get out - and I don't think he wants to."

"You can't know that," Scorpius said tightly.

"I've been watching him."

"Without him knowing? Mum, do you realise how unfair that is? He's been doing this – all this – for you. Surely you know that."

Astoria Malfoy was silent for a very long time, her hands still gripping Scorpius's tightly – so tightly that it hurt, though he did not want to tell her to let go. At last, she shook her head very slowly. "I don't think so, Scorpius. I don't think it's for me; not anymore. I think it's for himself."

The words were spoken in such a low tone, her eyes averted from his, but nevertheless, they cut through Scorpius, stung his ears as though she had shouted them. "You're wrong," he snapped. "Dad's not that selfish."

"I don't think he would see it as selfishness." His mother's tone was more contemplative now. "I think he would see it as restoring the Malfoy glory, or some such nonsense…"

"How can you be so cold?" Scorpius demanded. "Talk about him as if you don't know him? Doesn't this upset you at all?"

"Of course it upsets me, Scorpius," she said sharply, releasing his hands at last. "But it doesn't surprise me as much as it might have."

"How…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"I had to warn you," she reiterated, steely-eyed once more. "There's a chance that they will attempt to conscript you. The Truthseekers. And that – your father might let them."

"He wouldn't." Scorpius didn't let her words cut him this time. He couldn't.

"He mightn't have a choice." Astoria's voice was hollow now, and suddenly he didn't want to hear any more. He had never seen his mother like this before – so detached, so cold…

"I should be getting back," he said at last. Her eyes flickered with pain, then shuttered, and for the second time that night, Scorpius felt sick, twisting guilt deep inside him.

"So should I. But Scorpius - " She reached forward and grasped his arm once more, bringing his face level with hers. "Remember what I've said. Your father is different now. We can't predict what he'll do next – what they'll make him do." When he opened his mouth to protest, she bulled over him, "I know you've seen it, too. The change in him."

Scorpius's brow furrowed, as the memory of Malfoy Manor at Christmas returned to him – his father storming away from the table like a petulant child, the unhealthy gleam in his grey eyes when he'd been asked if he was still working for them…

"Do you think he's like Blaise?" he said, so quietly that the words were barely audible. His mother recoiled as though he had slapped her, withdrawing her hand from his arm.

"No. No. Don't think like that, Scorpius." She pulled the hood of her cloak up over her hair so that her face was obscured, but her green eyes still gleamed through, fixed on him. "Just… be vigilant. I'll be in touch soon."

With that, she Disapparated, and Scorpius folded his arms, scuffing his boot in the mud below him. He did not return to the castle – did not want the reality of what his mother had just told him to sink in. But when the faint sound of Aurors' voices floated towards him on the night breeze, he was forced to move, and quickly.

"So all you need to do," Rose concluded, "is revise your wording here, here and here. Maybe add a little more at the beginning on the origins of the Imperius Curse; that could use a little bulking up, too."

Hugo raised his eyebrows at her. "The essay's due tomorrow morning, Rosie."

She raised her eyebrows right back at him. "It's only ten o'clock. You've got plenty of time to finish it off."

"But I'm tired," he groaned, dropping his head back against the armchair. "Not everyone has your energy, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not much better off than you are." Rose pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a wave of exhaustion settle over her. The cosy warmth of the common room wasn't helping with that, and squinting at her brother's small handwriting for the past half-hour had given her an ache behind her eyelids.

But it felt nice – seated beside Hugo, her arm draped over the back of his armchair as she leaned over his shoulder and helped him with his homework. Like something that proper siblings did. Something that close siblings did. She knew her parents would be happy to see them now, the way they were.

Hugo yawned hugely, his head still propped against the armchair as he began to nod, and Rose was about to shake him awake when James appeared beside them.

"Your boyfriend's up to something," he said cryptically, and Rose stared at him for a solid minute before he knelt by the armchair, discreetly handing her the Marauder's Map. Looking down at it, she saw a dot labelled Scorpius Malfoy making its way along the passageway that led onto the third-floor corridor – the same one they had taken the night they had visited Knockturn Alley.

"He's not my boyfriend," she said hotly.

"Does Rose have a boyfriend?" Hugo asked sleepily, without lifting his head from the armchair.

"No." Rose turned back to her cousin, who was watching her expectantly. "What? It's none of my business what he gets up to in his spare time."

"It is if he's using the passageway you showed him to sneak out of the castle at night." James narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't expect me to believe that you're not a little bit curious."

"I am, but - " Rose cast a glance at her brother, whose eyes had drifted closed again, then sighed. "Fine. I'll go and intercept him."

"Good." James slipped into her armchair as she stood, tucking the map into his pocket.

"Just don't expect me to get any answers out of him."

"I have the utmost faith in you, Rose," James declared, and she rolled her eyes as she departed.

Scorpius Malfoy had just emerged from behind the one-eyed witch statue when Rose came upon him, and blinked in surprise when he saw her. His face was bloodless and drawn, his mouth set in a thin line.

"Are you all right?" she asked, coming to a halt before him.

"Fine," he muttered, dropping his eyes and making to move past her, but she blocked him with a hand.

"Scorpius, what's going on? Why did you leave the castle?"

"Were you following me?" he challenged.

"No, I…" Rose trailed off, gazing at him. "Were you meeting someone?"

His head dropped slightly. A nod.

"Who?"

He moved again, still avoiding her gaze. "It doesn't matter. I have to get back – Jem needs me."

"Scorpius." Rose couldn't help it – the fear had taken root, and she had to voice it. "Was it your mother?"

He did not reply. She loosed a breath, following as he set off at a brisk pace down the corridor. "It must have been important to her, to risk coming so close to the castle – and put you in danger, too."

"I don't have to tell you everything, Weasley," Scorpius growled.

The words – and his use of her last name, as though they were enemies again – set her teeth on edge, and suddenly Rose didn't care about the next words that came tumbling out.

"Like that your family's in debt?"

He swung around to face her, plain, pure shock written all over his features. His grey eyes were wide, and his jaw hung slightly open. "What?"

He hadn't known. Oh, Merlin. Rose swallowed. "Nothing, I just - "

"Weasley," he ground out.

"I saw it in a memory," she blurted. "A few weeks back, I revisited my memory of the wedding, to try and get some clues about what really happened, and… your mother was talking to my uncle Bill that night. Trying to persuade him to give your father a promotion. That was why she came to the wedding, I think."

Scorpius stared, but did not seem to see her. He passed a hand over his jaw, casting his grey eyes to the ceiling as he took in her words. She stood a little way apart from him, wringing her hands as she watched him.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this - " she ventured, but he shook his head.

"I don't want to hear it, Weasley." A dull flush coloured his cheeks now, and his grey eyes were cold as they regarded her. "None of it is any of your concern, anyway."

"It is if - " she paused, gathered the words, then pressed on, " – if we're friends."

Scorpius gave a tight little smile. "Friends. Of course. That was why you taunted me."

"I didn't say that – about your family's debt - to taunt you!"

"Yes, you did," he contradicted. "You said it to get back at me."

"That's not the same thing…"

"Whether it is or not, I couldn't give a damn." Scorpius sped up his pace. "From now on, Weasley, you leave me alone."

"But - "

"Leave me alone."

Rose halted, and let him stride away from her.

Oh, she was such a fool.

"I got your note," Lily Potter said as she joined Carlos Santini at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, beside the broomshed. Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest that she was sure he could hear it, and the cold air made her skin tingle. "Why did you want to meet here?"

The sixth-year was still clad in his Quidditch gear, and tenderly set his broom down on the grass, giving her a lazy smile that made her flush to her roots. It was too dark for him to see that, thank Merlin. He waved a hand towards the sky. "Nice moon tonight."

It was a nice moon – full and luminous, its faintly yellow light illuminating the silent grounds around them, the slumbering castle. Lily gazed at it for longer than necessary, because she was too shy to look back at Carlos. When she did at last meet his gaze again, he was standing much closer to her.

"Though I'll admit," he said softly, "that was a bit of an excuse."

"An excuse?" she breathed.

"To see you again." Carlos's smile had faded utterly, and he was now regarding her very seriously, as he came closer still. "And to do – this."

Lily closed her eyes as his fingers brushed her cheek, tilting her chin gently upwards before he pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't her first kiss – but it might as well as have been, for the swooping in her stomach, the triumphant battering of her heart against her chest, and the burning sensation of Carlos's hands as they travelled to her neck, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

The rest of the world was lost to her, and so she was understandably shocked when a furious voice came from nearby, causing them to break apart.

"What the bloody hell are you doing with my sister?"

James Potter stood at the entrance to the broomshed, his eyebrows raised and his fists clenched by his sides as he stared Carlos Santini down. Lily was too busy regarding him in horror to notice the smile that had crept onto the face of the Slytherin boy beside her. She was too much occupied in contemplating her brother's next move to consider for a moment why Carlos had chosen this particular spot to meet – at this specific time.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Potter," the Slytherin captain said smoothly, even as James seethed. "So if you wouldn't mind leaving us…"

"Right. Because that's going to happen. Lily - " He gestured forcefully, already turning away from Santini. "Come on. We're going now."

"I'll go when I want to," she retorted, but Carlos interjected quietly.

"It's all right, Lily. I'll see you again soon. Promise."

Reluctantly, Lily followed after her older brother. She looked back once to see Carlos smiling at her, and felt giddy.

Even after the two Potters had exited the pitch and were out of sight, Carlos Santini did not stop smiling.

All was going according to plan.