A/N: This chapter is much shorter than the usual, and lighter. Well, in some ways. So enjoy, and thanks again for all the reviews!

Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling

Chapter 22: All You Need is Love

On the morning of Valentine's Day, Rose Weasley awoke early.

The first strains of daylight were creeping across the ceiling, and she lay in bed watching them. There were no sounds other than the breathing of her roommates, all of whom were still asleep, and the soft fall of rain beyond the window. She lay with her hair scattered over her pillows, and tried not to think of the day ahead.

The idea of a date in Hogsmeade had made her smile two days ago. Yesterday, it had been pleasant, if a little frightening. But today… today, it became a gloomy prospect; one that portended only humiliation and ruin.

So maybe she was being a little melodramatic. But oh, what would she talk about? Rose grabbed her pillow and pressed it to her face. What would she wear? What would she be expected to do? What if she embarrassed herself? What if Tony realised that he had made a mistake and that she was really ridiculous and he shouldn't have wasted his time on her – and told all his friends to stay away from her - and what if word got around the school and Scorpius and all of the others heard what a joke she really was when it came to this kind of thing…

The morning passed with nightmarish rapidity, and all too soon she was seated at the chair that had been pulled up to her dresser while Jackie Saunders hovered over her.

"Not too much… it's got to look natural," the witch murmured, and the latter tried not to squirm as the eyeliner pen, moving as per Jackie's instructions, scribbled black over her eyelids. At the same time, a thick brush was patting powder onto her cheekbones none too gently, and a thin tube traced colour over her lips.

Jackie, meanwhile, was busying herself with Rose's hair. She had spread it out over her shoulders, brushed it and combed it and now was spreading some kind of balm through the unruly curls. Rose caught a glimpse of the tin. "Oh, my mum uses Sleekeazy's."

"What did I tell you?" Jackie thundered as the little tube reared backwards in alarm, bumping into the powder brush and then spilling red all over Rose's lap. "No speaking!"

Sheepish, Rose closed her mouth while her roommate seized her wand to set things to rights. At the same moment, Cassie emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. "You're not done yet? The carriages are leaving for the village soon."

"I know," Jackie said, through gritted teeth. "Help me with Rose's hair, will you? I need you to put more Sleekeazy's on while I clean up this mess."

Cassie looked to be on the point of protesting, but relented at a glare from Jackie. She moved forward reluctantly, taking the tin of Sleekeazy's. Her eyes met Rose's in the mirror over the dresser, then flicked away again.

Rose stiffened as her friend (her former friend, she corrected herself) started applying the balm through her hair with a light touch. She worked quickly and efficiently, her hands occasionally brushing Rose's neck, and did not meet her gaze again. Jackie, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to their discomfiture as she waved her wand, restoring the makeup brushes to their proper positions and vanishing the spillage in one movement.

"Get Rose's bag ready!" she barked at an alarmed Penny, who had just re-entered the dormitory, then to her mute charge, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

Rose waited until the little tube had moved away from her lips before speaking this time. "I've been here the whole morning, Jackie," she reminded her roommate, a little mutinously. "With you."

"Doesn't matter. You can eat in Hogsmeade." Jackie waved her hand dismissively, and cursed as she sent one of the brushes flying once more. Cassie, who was putting the finishing touches to Rose's hair with her wand, gave a little snort of laughter, and Rose exchanged a grin with her, forgetting that they were still supposed to be fighting.

"You're very committed to this," she commented as Jackie fished the errant brush out from the back of the dresser. "All I asked you for was a little help getting ready."

"Well, this is your first date and you've got to look perfect." Jackie brandished the brush and returned to Rose's side, shooing Cassie away. She lifted a section of hair and let it fall again. "And oh, Rose, you do."

"Not that you don't always look lovely," Penny hastily amended, coming to join the other witches by the mirror. "But Rose… wow."

Rose looked at herself properly for the first time, and blinked. Her hair cascaded down her back in smooth, glossy red waves. It had never felt so light. And though the effect of the makeup Jackie had applied to her face was not exactly natural, it certainly was subtle. Her blue eyes shone; her high cheekbones were more prominent than usual, and her freckles less.

She stood to survey her full reflection. The neat blazer that she had chosen to wear over her chiffon blouse, paired with black jeans, made her look elegant and mature and sophisticated… all things that she was not. Feeling slightly sick, Rose turned away, but Cassie put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't be nervous," she said. "You'll be fine, Rose. It's just a date."

Rose felt a fleeting, inexplicable sadness as she looked back at her old friend, who was regarding her so kindly. Perhaps it was because she realised, at that moment, that things between them were never going to go back to the way they were. She saw now that was impossible.

"You're going to have a wonderful time," Jackie said forcefully, brushing a strand of hair out of Rose's eyes. "You're going to have the date I should have had. With Luke."

Penny patted Jackie's arm comfortingly, and the three witches surveyed the transformed Rose for a moment more before it occurred to them that they were already late for the departing carriages.

"I'm getting the strangest sense of déja vu," Jeremy Sharpwood said gloomily, as they stood outside the Three Broomsticks, watching the retreating figures of Orchid and Torrance. At Scorpius's inquiring look, he elaborated, "Muggle reference. I mean this is too familiar. We've been here before."

"You've got that right," Scorpius snorted. "Still, it's Valentine's Day; what do you expect? They were hardly going to spend their precious day with us."

"I'm glad they're gone," Nina Meyer said, observing the garish pink decorations in the window of the tavern with distaste. "Besides, I'm not spending the whole day with you reprobates either. Rose said she'd meet me after her date with that Hufflepuff. Of course, you two are welcome to come with me. Hear all about it."

"I don't think either of us have any desire to hear about Rose Weasley's love life," Jem said dryly.

"So you've got better things to do?" she retorted. "Like what?"

As his friends began bickering, Scorpius attempted to collect himself. He was inwardly grateful to Jem for answering on his behalf a moment ago, as he could not have been trusted to speak; or at least, to say anything sensible. The mention of Rose's date had given him a strange twist in his stomach. Of course, he shouldn't be surprised that it was going ahead; he had seen the way that Mason bloke looked at her that evening in the library.

"For your information, I'm not interested in hearing about Rose's love life either," Nina was saying haughtily to Jem, "But Merlin's sake, it's something to do. Valentine's Day is always so depressing – I don't know why they make us go to Hogsmeade for it and suffer even more."

"Can we please," Scorpius said faintly, "find something to discuss that isn't other people's love lives, or dates, or…"

"I concur," Jem said, and Nina rolled her eyes at them both.

"Fine."

Silence fell among the trio as they stood on the main street of the village, watching laughing couples go by and trying to think of something else to talk about. Scorpius was actually relieved when Carlos Santini emerged out of Scrivenshaft's, directly across from them.

"I'll be right back," he told the other two, and hastened off after Santini.

"Carlos, wait up!"

The Quidditch captain did not turn, but strode purposefully on. "I'm in a hurry, Malfoy, so if this is about training…"

"It's not." Scorpius glared at Santini's back. "It's about Lily Potter."

Carlos Santini came to a halt, and slowly turned, his cloak whirling around his ankles. They were level with Honeydukes' now, and the street was quieter than it had been. "What about her?"

"You've got to stop what you're doing." Scorpius thought of Rose's stricken face in the library. "Tell her the truth about the bet."

"I'd be mad to stop now, when I've gotten so far. Torrance would give me hell for it. But..." Santini considered Scorpius for a moment, thoughtful. "I was thinking of telling her the truth."

"You… what?" Scorpius stared at Santini. A couple of drops were beginning to fall on them, and the Quidditch captain cast a glance upwards at the overcast sky, then nodded.

"It'd have to be after, of course. After I've won the bet. But I think she deserves to know. She's a nice girl."

"You're too much of a coward to tell her anything," Scorpius scoffed. "Besides, why would you bother after? By then, the damage will be done."

Carlos Santini's brow creased, and he stared past Scorpius. Turning, the latter saw that the subject of their conversation had just stepped out of one of the carriages at the end of the street. Her red hair shone, a distant beacon in the growing mist of rain.

"Because if I tell her, she might forgive me."

Scorpius whipped back to stare at Santini. A droplet of rain was winding its way down his temple, and his dark eyes were brimming with emotion as he regarded Lily Potter. "If she really loves me as much as she says she does," Carlos continued, almost dreamily, "She'll forgive me."

"You have feelings for her. Don't you?" Scorpius gave a disbelieving snort of laughter. "What would Torrance say?"

"He'd understand." Carlos continued to gaze just past him, as though he were in a trance. "And he'd respect me all the more for going through with it."

"Well, I don't." Scorpius took a step backwards, staring at the other wizard. He didn't know why he was so shocked; it was Santini, after all, but the thought that he had developed feelings for Lily, that he cared about her and yet he was still going to do this... it sickened Scorpius to his very core. If Rose knew –

No, he would not think about her now. Pulling up his hood, Scorpius took another step away from Santini. "She won't forgive you," he said quietly. "Not for this. You're a fool if you think for a second that she ever will."

Carlos Santini's gaze flicked back to him momentarily, and then he smiled and shook his head. "Get out of here, Malfoy."

Scorpius obliged, moving back to the entrance of the Three Broomsticks and trying to ignore the jolt of guilt as he heard Santini's voice ring out in greeting of Lily. He had done all he could do, after all. Santini was his own wizard, and Lily… well, she was her own witch, too.

"We might as well be in Madam Puddifoot's, for all the smug couples that are here," grumbled Cassie. The others did not need to look around the Three Broomsticks to know that she was right. It was the same every year, after all.

"How do you think I feel?" Jackie Saunders sighed, placing her elbows on the surface of the table, her neglected Butterbeer. "Seeing them all just reminds me of Luke. This day was supposed to be for us, too."

"You deserve way better than him, Jackie," Penny said sincerely. Rory, Albus and Cassie nodded their heads in agreement as Madam Rosmerta placed a couple of pumpkin juices before them.

"Besides, we can have a nice day together. Can't we?"

"Oh, sure," Jackie said with a sigh, but Albus and Cassie did not say anything, for a new, more unwelcome addition had just joined the ranks of "smug couples" in the inn.

"I thought they were still fighting." Rory Finnigan frowned.

"Apparently not." Albus averted his eyes as James and Summer commandeered a nearby table, arm in arm. Cassie stared down into her pumpkin juice and suddenly wished that she had ordered something stronger.

"Cassie?"

Her head jerked up in surprise and she saw that James was approaching their table, while Summer went to the bar. He was looking at her inquiringly. "A word?"

Exchanging a glance with the others (Albus looked especially sympathetic), Cassie dropped her gaze from James and muttered, "Fine."

He led the way over to the other, less crowded side of the inn, and turned to face her. His expression was unexpectedly serious, though there was an air of satisfaction about him that Cassie could not fail to notice. "I've made things up with Summer."

"So I see." Cassie cast a glance over to the bar to see the Hufflepuff girl regarding them curiously as she waited for her drink.

"Yeah, I had to apologise for the things I said to her on the morning of the match. The nerves must have been getting to me." As Cassie rolled her eyes, he went on hastily, "But I know that's no excuse. And whatever I said to you at the party, Cassie, I'm sorry for that, too."

She looked at him. "You mean you don't remember?"

James shook his head, looking as close to sheepish as he was ever likely to get. "Not much past losing."

"Wow." Cassie raised her eyebrows, making to turn away, but James caught her arm.

"Anything I said," he reiterated, his eyes never leaving hers. "It didn't mean anything, Cassie. I was really drunk."

She shook him off angrily. "It wasn't what you said, James. It was how you acted."

"And how was that?" James looked a little impatient now. "You know, I'm trying to make things right, but it's a little hard when I have no memory of what I said or did."

"Whose fault is that?" Cassie glared at him. "You're unbelievable. Expecting everything to just fix itself because you want it to."

"Merlin, Cassie, I - " But she was already stalking back to her table. She received more than a few confused glances from the others as she took her seat again, glowering.

"Don't even ask."

"Two hot chocolates, please." Tony Mason glanced at Rose. "That is… if you want one?"

"Oh yes," she said, a little too eagerly, and Madam Puddifoot cast her a wary glance before scribbling down the order and rearranging her features into those of a cheery proprietor.

"I'll be right back."

Please hurry, Rose urged her silently, and tucked her hair behind her ear for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes. For that, she knew by the heart-shaped clock in the corner of the glaringly pink teashop, was the amount of time that she had been sitting here with Tony, though it felt like twice as long.

"I love hot chocolates," she said lamely, raising her eyes to see that Tony was gazing at her admiringly (again) and feeling herself blush. "They're… er… my favourite drink. The ones she makes here always have cinnamon in them, too, and I, er, like that. What's your favourite drink?"

Tony began to speak, but Rose barely heard him, for she was too busy cringing inwardly over her attempt to fill the silence (really, she could do better than that, couldn't she?) and searching out the figure of Madam Puddifoot behind the counter to see if she was nearly ready with the drinks. Once the drinks arrived, she reasoned, everything would be easier. Then she would have something to do with her hands, other than wringing them under the table.

Madam Puddifoot was busy serving another couple at the table across from them, however, and Rose saw that it was Orchid Ottelby and Torrance Bole. She had not noticed them coming in. Great. Just great. Ottelby had evidently been watching her and Tony for the past few minutes, and grinned nastily when their eyes met, giving Rose a sarcastic thumbs-up. Rose grimaced at her in response.

"Is everything OK?"

Tony was still looking at her, though his expression was less admiring now and more along the lines of bewildered. Mortified, Rose nodded quickly. "Yeah, I was just – yeah. You were, er, saying?"

"I'd actually finished – what I was saying." Tony's broad, honest face looked a little embarrassed now, too.

"Oh."

At that moment, their drinks arrived, and Rose was spared from saying anything else. Gratefully, she wrapped her hands around the steaming mug and took a gulp, then hissed in pain.

"What is it?" Tony said, alarmed.

"Oh, nothing, I just scalded my tongue a bit. It's very hot." Rose put the mug down again sheepishly.

"Can I get you anything, or…"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you." Then, searching for something else to say, "I should have waited for it to cool a bit, really."

"Yeah." Tony stared down at his own hot chocolate. "Got to be careful."

"Exactly." Rose wondered if it was possible to die from sheer awkwardness. Oh, how she wished it was. Casting another glance at the clock, she saw that the hand had barely moved. Still a good half-hour before she could extricate herself to meet Nina at the Three Broomsticks.

Tony was sipping his hot chocolate now, still silent. It was rather an incongruous drink for a strapping Quidditch player, Rose mused. But then, that was unfair. Even to think such a thing was unfair, and to say it would be even worse.

But what could she say? What did he want to talk about? They had already run through the topic of Professor Harris's project; they had said all they could about the weather; his being attacked at the Quidditch match didn't seem like an appropriate subject for discussion at a date, and she didn't feel like bluffing about Quidditch.

What else was there? Rose was beginning to panic. What in Merlin's name did blokes Tony's age like to talk about? Come on, Rose. Think. What did she talk about with Albus, and James, and Rory, and Hugo? Anything and everything, she realised. Even with Scorpius Malfoy, conversation had never been this much of a struggle. Their silences had never seemed quite as… well, silent.

Cautiously, Rose took a sip of her own hot chocolate, and gave up. "So, Tony, tell me, do you have a favourite Quidditch team?"

Meanwhile, in the upstairs room of Madam Puddifoot's, Carlos Santini and Lily Potter were enjoying a much less awkward date.

"I didn't even know this place had an upstairs room," Lily remarked, taking a look around the room before she sat on a plush armchair across from Carlos. It was much more tastefully decorated than downstairs, and entirely empty of couples except for themselves. That in itself was a considerable advantage; Lily was already nervous enough as it was, and having witnesses to her and Carlos's reunion (witnesses such as her overprotective family members) would only make her more so.

"It's not usually open to Hogwarts students." Carlos gave her a smile which seemed a little tentative. Perhaps he was nervous, too. "But Hyacinth Puddifoot's an old friend of the family. She was happy to do me a good turn."

"It's lovely here." Lily settled back into the armchair, trying to look more at ease than she was. "No cherubs or confetti, either."

"Thank Merlin. I never could stand those things." Suddenly, Carlos looked serious. "Listen, Lily, before we order… I wanted to tell you something."

"Yeah?" Lily's heart began to thump in her chest. She didn't know why, but she felt a little afraid of what Carlos might say. What he might tell her.

"I didn't think you'd want to spend the day with me." Carlos looked down. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't. But I'm so glad you did come, Lily, because I wanted to make it up to you. The way I acted the day your House played Hufflepuff…"

"You don't need to apologise," Lily began, gently, but Carlos shook his head, sitting forward in his chair.

"Yes, I do," he said earnestly. "The truth is, Lily…" He paused, and appeared to be mulling something over. "The truth is, you were right. I was trying to delay you from getting to the match that morning. But it wasn't because I wanted Gryffindor to win." Reaching across the table, he took hold of her hand, and Lily could not move as he continued, in a voice low and quick and sincere, "It was because I can't bear anything that takes you away from me, Lily. Because I love you, and I want to be with you always."

Lily rose from her armchair, blinking, and turned towards one of the windows, overwhelmed. She could sense Carlos's gaze on her, though he did not move from his seat. She watched the rain pelting down outside for a moment.

"Please say something," he said quietly.

"Do you mean it?" She was still afraid – afraid of his answer. Afraid that everyone was right about him, and that he was a liar.

But when he stood up and walked towards her, his expression all tenderness and affection, Lily turned to look into his eyes, and she wasn't afraid anymore. As he bent his head to kiss her, she whispered, "I love you, too, Carlos Santini."

"You're going to get another Butterbeer? You do realise that's your fourth."

Cassie shrugged her shoulders at Albus. "Do I look like I care?"

Their numbers had depleted somewhat, Jackie having gone to Gladrags with Lisa Harvey and Diana Turpin, Penny in tow, and now it was just Cassie, Rory and Albus at the table. James and Summer had also left the Three Broomsticks, for which Cassie was quite grateful. At a nearby table, she could see Nina Meyer sitting with a couple of other Slytherins. The witch gave her the slightest of nods.

"Is this about James?" Albus said in a low voice so that Rory would not hear. "Because you know you shouldn't let him…"

"Yeah, it's about James," Cassie said curtly, not bothering to lower her voice. Rory glanced at her and then at Albus. As she moved away towards the bar, he asked his friend,

"Does Cassie like James?"

"For a while now." Albus sighed, straightening his glasses. "Don't see why, really. She could do a lot better."

"Yeah, well, he's James Potter. All of the girls love him." Rory frowned. "I just never thought that Cassie… I mean, she was on the Quidditch team for so long, I thought she'd see him as more of a friend."

"No girl is immune to his charms, apparently. Summer least of all."

Rory looked at Albus. "I don't see that lasting much longer, mate, if I'm honest."

"Really?"

"Yeah, James is bound to get bored soon."

"I was thinking the same thing," Albus said slowly, "But I didn't know if that was just because…"

"You're still mad about Summer."

Albus's silence was confirmation. Leaning his chin on his hand, Rory looked towards the bar. "It's Cassie for me."

"You like her?" Only mildly surprised, Albus followed Rory's gaze towards the bar, where Cassie was handing her money to Madam Rosmerta.

"For a while now, yeah." The sandy-haired Gryffindor lifted his shoulders. "Don't say anything."

"'Course not." Both boys fell silent as Cassie returned to their table, Butterbeer in hand.

"You lot are so dry," she grumbled on seeing their empty glasses. "Boring."

"Sorry to disappoint," Albus said with a wry smile. "But it looks like you're drinking enough for all three of us."

"Looks like it." Cassie knocked back the goblet, and Rory and Albus exchanged a glance.

"He's starting to be a problem, Geoff."

"I'll say." Penny's brother sat placidly in his chair while she paced up and down the length of the room in the Hog's Head. "You were careless, Penny. Letting him hear you talking to Orchid and Torrance like that."

"I thought that they had cast some kind of muffling charm. They normally do!" Penny hung her head. "Oh, I know, Geoff. It's my fault. This whole mess…"

"It's not as bad as it could be," Geoffrey pointed out. "Harry Potter doesn't know yet, does he?"

"No." She looked down at the sagging floor. "Albus tried to send him a letter a few days ago, but I got Orchid and Torrance to intercept his owl and forge a response so he won't get suspicious. At least, not for another while."

"Good thinking." Despite everything, Penny felt herself glow a little at her brother's praise. "Now you've got to go a step further. Dispose of Albus Potter as a threat."

Penny couldn't breathe. She halted before her brother. "You mean - "

"No, Penny." Geoffrey stared at her. "He's Harry Potter's son; of course I don't mean that. A little Memory Charm will do the job."

"But…" Penny was confused. "Isn't that a little – "

"Hypocritical?" Her brother rose to his feet, shaking his head. "The Truthseekers are against Muggle's memories being wiped, Penny. With wizards and witches, it's different."

Penny didn't agree. But she didn't want to contradict her brother, so she just nodded.

"Get him alone, Penny. That's all you have to do. You'll need Torrance and Orchid's help, of course, but it should be fairly straightforward…"

Penny kept nodding as her brother kept talking, and stared at the spreading patch of damp just beneath the window from a leak in the wall, and wondered what she had become.

Rose had never believed that a half-hour could feel so long. But now, she would believe anything. As she stepped out of Madam Puddifoot's ahead of Tony (who had insisted on paying for both of their drinks, to his credit), she sighed in relief, feeling the fresh, damp air greet her.

"This has been lovely," she said, forcing a smile as Tony joined her on the step outside the teashop.

"Yeah." He, however, was not quite as good as she was at feigning cheerfulness. Looking at her glumly, he said, "So, I suppose I'll see you around."

"You will." Rose hesitated, unsure what farewell would be appropriate. In the end, she just settled for an idiotic little wave, and hurried away as quickly as politeness allowed her.

The sense of freedom increased as she made her way down the main street of Hogsmeade, and by the time she reached the doorway of the Three Broomsticks, Rose felt remarkably calmer. She reached out, but the door was opened before she had touched it, and then she was face to face with Scorpius Malfoy.

He blinked at her, caught off guard, his eyes travelling over her straightened hair, her blazer and jeans. "You're all dressed up."

"I had a date," Rose said, feeling strangely flustered by the way he was looking at her.

"Nina mentioned." Scorpius stepped out past her, and she took hold of the door. "I talked to Santini."

"You did?" She turned in the doorway to face him again. "And?"

He looked away from her, and when he spoke, his voice was curt and clipped. "It didn't make any difference. Like I thought."

"Oh, well…" Rose bit her lip, thinking of Lily. "Thanks for trying."

"Any time." He turned his back on her, walking away, and she watched him go, frowning.

"Well?" Nina had followed him out of the door and was hovering on the threshold, eyebrows raised at Rose. "How was it?" At her friend's blank look, "The date?"

"Oh, yeah." She shook her head as though to clear it. "Let's go inside."

"That bad, eh?"

"It was awful," Rose said emphatically a few minutes later, when they were seated a table with Butterbeers before them.

"That'll teach you to go on a date with a Hufflepuff."

"No, he was fine – he was lovely, Nina, really – although…" Rose paused, taking another gulp of her Butterbeer. "… although, he didn't know what Alchemy was. I had to explain it to him."

"What, the class?"

"No, the discipline." Rose caught her friend's disbelieving gaze and snorted. "Oh, I shouldn't laugh. Nor should you! Nina, stop laughing. I'm serious. He was really nice… I just didn't know what to say. What to talk about. We don't have much in common."

"I imagine not." Nina shook her head. "Why did you go at all, Rose? Was it this whole 'being normal' kick that you're on? Because I have news for you: being a normal teenage witch does not mean getting asked out on dates to Hogsmeade all the time. Most of us don't have that luck."

"No, it wasn't just that." Rose put down her Butterbeer, staring at it thoughtfully. "I really liked him. Or I thought I did. I wanted to give it a chance."

"Well, you did." Nina raised her own goblet in mock salute. The two witches were silent for a few moments, then Rose said,

"Was Scorpius annoyed about something? I passed him on my way in. He seemed a little – off."

"Oh, yeah. He went off to find Jem." Nina shrugged. "I dunno. He was a little put out when I said that you had a date."

"He was?" Rose tilted her head. "Hmph. Probably thinks I should be focusing on more important stuff."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it."

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"Yes, you were! You were looking all sly."

"That's just my face."

"No, it's not!" Rose rolled her eyes. "Look, let's just change the subject."

"Gladly," Nina muttered.

"What? What was that?"

"Nothing." Grinning a little, the Slytherin girl cast a glance around the crowded pub. "Why don't we talk about how your friend's drinking spirits at one in the afternoon?"

Rose followed Nina's gaze to where Cassie was draining a goblet of Firewhiskey. "She's probably just upset about James." She sighed. "Anyway, I'm not interfering again. Albus and Rory are with her; she's fine."

"Whatever you say."

Carlos Santini and Lily Potter watched the last carriage to the castle rattle away along the forest road. They had a good view from where they stood: at one of the windows of the Shrieking Shack, in a room that Carlos had fixed up with a dozen suspended candles and a little indoor picnic, spread out on a patchwork quilt: Cornish pasties and Chocolate Frogs and tea cakes and even a bottle of wine. They had already had some of the wine, but much of the food remained untouched.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back?" Carlos asked, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "I could still arrange it, you know, Lily. You don't have to…"

Lily stood on her tiptoes, and silenced him with a kiss. "I want to stay," she said when she pulled away, trailing a hand along his cheek. Out the window, she could see that the rainclouds had been chased away by the sunset. A couple of tentative amber rays spilt in through the glass, falling across the ripped-up floorboards of the shack and reflecting off the wine-bottle.

"You're sure?" Carlos said quietly, bringing up a hand to shade his eyes so that he could see her properly. She looked back at him, her arms still twined around his neck, and there was something in his expression that made her realise that he was not just talking about the carriages. For an instant, she felt very young, and uncertain. And just a little bit afraid. Like before.

But none of that was important. She kissed Carlos again, and he kissed her back, and when they broke apart, she whispered, "I am sure. I love you, Carlos."

It was only half a lie.

"So, in short, not the day I was expecting," Rose finished. She was lying spread out on one of the couches in Gryffindor common room, her face upturned to the ceiling. Her hair was starting to recover its ordinary level of frizz in the heat of the fire, and she had changed into pyjamas and a robe.

"I'm sorry your date didn't work out," Albus said.

"But at least she looked gorgeous for it," Jackie said proudly from where she sat at the other end of the couch, Rose's slippered feet resting on her lap. "I did well, right?"

"You did look nice, Rosie," Hugo admitted. He was perched on the hearth, leaning against the foot of the couch. She reached over and ruffled his hair in thanks, and he scrunched up his features and tried not to look pleased.

"Any of you seen Cassie?"

James had just come trotting down the stairs from his dormitory. Rose lifted her head to regard him. "I think she went for a walk. Probably best to leave her. She's not in a great mood."

Her cousin ignored her, striding out of the common room, and Rose sighed. "Well, I tried," she said, to no one in particular.

James poked his head back into the portrait hole a moment later. "That Hufflepuff bloke's out here. Wants to talk to you, Rose."

"Oh, Merlin." Rose threw her head back again as her cousin left. "I can't face him."

"Better just get it over with," Jackie said, giving her feet a comforting pat before lifting them off her lap.

"You've got nothing to lose," Albus agreed, with a sympathetic grimace.

"Good luck," Hugo said, a little mischievously, and Rose got to her feet, glowering as she tied her robe up more securely.

"I hate you all."

Tony Mason was waiting for her just beside the Fat Lady. He smiled at her, a little bashfully, as she approached, and Rose returned the smile, despite herself. She didn't even care that he was seeing her in pyjamas; it was as if all her embarrassment had been exhausted earlier. "What's up?"

Unlike her, he had not changed since earlier, but his brown hair was no longer slicked back with gel; it was normal and messy, and somehow that made him a little less intimidating. He looked down as he said, "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Oh, Tony, you've nothing to be sorry for." Rose felt a stab of guilt as she remembered how she and Nina had laughed about him earlier in the Three Broomsticks.

"No, I do. It was awkward, I know, and that was my fault." He met her gaze, and sighed. "I was really nervous. I just didn't know what to say, how to act around you. You looked so different – nice, but different – and it just threw me off, I suppose."

"I know." Rose blew out a breath. "Look, Tony, I was nervous too. I should have been a bit more natural…"

"No, you were perfect," he said firmly, then shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Look, what I'm trying to say is, Rose, I like you a lot. And I'd like to get the chance to get to know you better."

"You would?" She hadn't been expecting this. At all.

"Yeah."

"So would I, but the thing is…" She scuffed her slippers on the floor, suddenly aware of the fact that the Fat Lady was watching them intently, and lowered her voice. "I'm not used to this at all, Tony. Dates and – things like that."

"We don't have to go on dates," Tony said. "We can just… hang out. Go for walks. That kind of thing."

Rose considered for a moment, then smiled at him. "I think I'd like that."

He smiled too. "You would?"

"Yeah."

"Great." Then, before Rose knew it, Tony was stepping forward, tipping up her chin gently with one hand, and she was letting him, closing her eyes as he leaned in, his lips brushing hers.

She had been kissed once before – by a drunk Gryffindor at a party in fifth year – and that had been messy, uncomfortable, but this; this was different. Nice. Tony Mason knew what he was doing.

"What a charming lad," the Fat Lady said approvingly, after he was gone. "Much nicer than that Slytherin boy."

Rose turned to look at the portrait, and smiled a little, but did not give any response other than the password.

The Quidditch pitch was shrouded in darkness when James reached it, and he stared down at the Marauder's Map, wondering if he could have been wrong. But then he saw Cassie Miller's dot, somewhere in the centre of the pitch, and frowned, stashing the Map in his pocket once more.

Something about this gave him a bad feeling. He strode across the grass, his wand held out before him. "Cassie?"

"What d'you want?"

She had emerged from the darkness, slightly unsteady. Her broomstick was clutched in her hand, and her black hair was falling into her eyes. James caught the faint tang of Firewhiskey on the air. "Are you drunk?"

"What's it to you?" she demanded.

"If you're drunk, you shouldn't be flying." He reached out for her broomstick, but she jerked away. "I mean it, Cassie. Believe me, I've tried it. Not a good idea."

"Of course you've tried it," she sneered, rolling her eyes. "You're James Potter. You've tried everything, haven't you? Nothing surprises you."

James raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Look, I know you're still angry at me, Cassie, but you've got to listen. Flying when you're drunk is never a good idea – and besides that, it's dark, too."

"Why does it matter to you?" she said again, and he sighed heavily.

"Because I care about you, Cassie, and I don't want you to put yourself in danger."

"You don't care about me," she scoffed. "You care about Summer Birchgrove."

"I care about you more," James said, then did a double take. He didn't know why he had just said that; he knew he definitely shouldn't have just said that, but the instant after the words were out, he realised that they were true. And now Cassie Miller's eyes were burning with something and she was putting down her broomstick, onto the grass. And he just stood there as she flew at him, grabbing his collar and pressing her mouth on his.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, quick and fierce and forceful. After that, Cassie pulled away and stared at him. "That was stupid."

"Yeah, it was," James said softly, and then he had caught her waist and pulled her to him again, lowering his lips to hers.

Her hands trembled on either side of his face, then moved to his shoulders, and he seized her up, lifting her off the ground as they continued to kiss hungrily. His hands were in her hair, hers were braced on his forearms now, and neither of them seemed to care that it was freezing cold, that it was nighttime, that they were breaking curfew (well, when had James Potter ever cared about that?), or perhaps most importantly, that Summer Birchgrove was sitting in her dormitory in Hufflepuff basement at that very moment, hugging her pillow to her chest and thinking, with a smile, of the wonderful day she had just shared with her boyfriend. Thinking of how lucky she was.

It did not occur to them to think of her, or, indeed, of anything else. At that moment, they were just a boy and a girl in a darkened Quidditch pitch, wrapped up in each other, and lost to the world.