A/N Hello everyone! It's been a while since I posted the last chapter. Couldn't make out what to write next. But here I am again, with a brand new chapter to celebrate (although belatedly) the birthday of our favourite Mr. Potter and his wonderful creator, J. K. Rowling.

I fully appreciate the support you people have been providing me in the meantime. A shoutout to Maya Poltergeist, Diana Black 12, vivimazin, Alyssa the Free Spirit, AMBERJANUS, AlleyJax, Alrightqueen, Ashipisawishyourheartmakes, Ennhandly, HotDiamonds15, IJMRbook, Nymeria33, Paula M, Rainbow Lava Ninjas, axelanthony, buford12, cristotwitch, gogoldie42, nina98155, schnicilein, waltraute, EzriaStydiaTrash and Indigo Angell for showing your support by favouriting, following or reviewing the story. You guys are the best!

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling is the owner of all original Harry Potter characters.

And now, without further do, I present to you the story...


Rose had been humming to herself since morning. It was an exceptionally bright day and she had been in a good mood. This summer holiday is turning out to be quite fun, she thought to herself. First of all, Mom and Dad had taken them on a trip to a Muggle amusement park as a treat for Hugo's twelfth birthday (and also for you to make close study of Muggle methods of working without magic, her Mom had whispered). It was great fun, especially with Dad getting stuck by the ingenuity of the machines every few minutes. He was turning out to be a lot like Grandpa Weasley, though with a significant lack of respect for Muggles, unlike Grandpa. Weirdos, he would mutter from time to time.

Then Grandpa and Grandma Granger had paid them a visit and spoilt them rotten. They came visiting very rarely. But when they did, it was always wonderful. Grandpa Granger was a great storyteller and could recount any mundane incident with such humour that it was hard not to laugh. Grandma Granger would fondly talk about Mom's childhood which fascinated Rose to no end. She often found her habits similar to Mom's childhood ones.

And of course there was the day she had outwitted her own brother. He had set dungbombs under her bed (the sheets smelt to high heavens for a week). And she had retaliated by setting a handful of spiders in his closet. His terrified screams were reward enough.

Rose continued humming and smiling to herself as she folded her spare tees and clean school robes. She loved the smell of fresh laundry. She took a lungful of the smell and sighed blissfully. Life seemed so peacefully.

She should have known.

She began depositing the folded clothes in her trunk one over the other. She was very methodical whilst packing, unlike Hugo, who waited till the last moment to throw everything pell-mell into his trunk and then stamp on it to shut the lid.

She shifted some of the other articles in the trunk to make space.

Clink.

Something dislodged and fell to the bottom of the trunk. Farrowing her brows, she craned her neck to find out what. But whatever it was, it had skittered off to some corner. She did not want to jumble the arranged clothes. So she fished about under them until her fingers closed on something smooth and cold. And oval. She pulled it out with care, and frowned.

Scorp's pendant sat winking in her palm.

She frowned again. If her memory served her right, she had taken great care to wrap it in paper, tie it with a string and place it at the furthest corner of the trunk. For some reason or the other, she had never gotten to tell anyone of the pendant. Neither had she worn it (it's too delicate, she had argued with herself.) And she had not taken it out from its place so far. Then how come it lay unwrapped and dislodged from its place, she wondered. Unless…

Her nostrils flared as her temper rose. That mangy old git. She was going to strangle him.

'Mom!' she yelled, stowing the pendant away, 'Mom, Hugo has been riffling my things again!'

She skipped down the stairs, looking out for the scamp. Wait till I get my hands on him, she muttered under her breath, he's going to rue the day he was born.

'Mom!' she yelled again.

Her mother strode into the dining space, Crookshanks purring in her arms, 'What is it, Rosie?'

'Mom, Hugo has been going through my things again!'

She crossed her arms and scowled. Her mother put down Crookshanks and straightened. 'Are you sure he had?'

'Yes! I know when my trunk has been riffled through. And there is no one else in this house callous enough to go through someone else's things,' she snapped.

Her mother sighed (which suspiciously sounded like 'There is'). 'Go find him. I'll have a talk with him,' she said.

ooooo

Hugo had been sulking since the little 'talk' with his mother. He threw Rose dirty looks during dinner as he stabbed his vegetables with unnecessary force. Rose looked smug.

'What's going on?' Dad quirked his brow, sensing the tension brewing between his two children.

'Oh nothing. Sibling rivalry. You should know,' Mom passed him the potatoes.

Hugo glowered.

'What about?' asked Dad.

'He riffled through my things, so Mom had a little talk with him. It was nothing,' Rose answered.

'It was not nothing!' Hugo looked ready to burst. 'I just wanted a bit of a string.'

'And so you had to go through my entire trunk, was it?'

'Don't behave like you're hiding some huge secret in that trunk. The most boring trunk I have ever seen,' he smirked, 'except for the pendant. Who is it from, Big Sis? '

'Someone who is a lot better mannered than you, Little Bro.'

'Oooo…Is it from Snowy?' he teased.

'Shut up.'

Dad looked up from his plate. 'Who's Snowy?'

'Oh it's Scorpius. I call him Snowy,' Rose shrugged and stabbed her broccoli. She continued eating until it began to dawn on her that something was not right. The table had gone unusually quiet. She looked up into the uneasy silence.

Her parents had frozen. Dad had a stunned expression on his which as slowly turning crimson while Mom looked from one to the other, her face a mask of apprehension.

Rose felt puzzled. Surely her parents were not so prejudiced that they would judge Scorpius by his parentage.

How wrong she was. Apparently her dad did.

'Did you say Scorpius?' he asked in a deadly quiet voice.

'Well…yes, but – '

'Scorpius Malfoy?' he continued, fixing her with a cold stare.

'Yes, but Dad – '

Her explanations were drowned by the loud bang of his fist connecting with the dinner table.

'THAT NASTY LITTLE SLIMEBALL!'

Rose gasped at his outburst.

'Ron!' her mother hissed and tried to grab his hand. He jerked it away.

'Just like his father! Weaseling into the good side now that the dark side is defeated.'

'Ron! This is ridiculous. Think what you're uttering!'

'I know what I'm saying 'Mione.' He turned to Rose, who had her mouth hanging open. 'How did this happen?'

'W-what do you mean?' she stammered under his furious glare. Hugo was fidgeting in his seat.

'How long have you been 'friends'?'

'Since second year.'

Dad's face now resembled his hair. 'BLOODY HELL!'

'Dad!'

'Ron!'

He continued swearing. When finally he was able to make coherent sentences, he said, 'You are going to return him that pendant.'

Rose's fingers tightened around her fork. 'Why?' she asked.

'Because I said so.'

'He is my friend. I will not do anything to cause him hurt without sufficient explanation.'

'Well. Here's a little information for you, little missy. You are no longer going to be friends with him. Not as long as I live.'

'But Dad – '

'For Merlin's sake, Rosie! He's a Malfoy!'

Another gasp escaped her lips. Her own father?

'What's wrong about being a Malfoy?' she asked, taking care not to let her temper rise. It was an already volatile situation.

'He is a pureblood.'

'And why is that wrong? You are a pureblood too,' she argued.

Her father's face contorted in rage. 'You do not know a thing,' he spat. 'You do not know what his family did to us. What his father did to us. Did he ever talk about that?'

Rose could only shake her head.

'I thought so too.'

'But he is not his father! You don't know Scorpius!' she pressed on. 'You haven't even met him!'

'I don't care. He is a Malfoy. And you are to stay away from all Malfoys in general.'

How could a perfect evening go downhill so quickly, Rose wondered. She was witnessing a new side of her father; it did not please her one bit. She had never imagined that her own father would have such a narrow outlook. And she couldn't keep silent about it anymore. How could she have been so wrong?

'You are just like them,' she whispered.

'What did you say?' her father narrowed his eyes. Her mother had sat slack-jawed through the exchange. Her eyes seemed to widen further.

Rose took a deep breath to control her boiling anger. 'You are just like them. Only it's purebloods instead of mudblood.'

Her father gaped at her. 'W-what?' he managed to stutter at length.

'You are just like the sneering purebloods. You look down upon anyone who is a pureblood. You judge people by their parentage. And you pass judgment without any solid proof. You are no different.'

'Rosie!'

'DON'T YOU DARE DEFEND HIM, MOM!' she whirled around, her rage finally breaking. 'You taught me to look at a person's soul and not his background. You wanted me to befriend anyone who was good at heart, irrespective of his House. You taught me to give a person another chance. You showed me how to find goodness in another being,' she paused, 'And all this time, you sat quiet while Dad was being a hypocrite. Tell me if I'm wrong.'

'YOU DON'T KNOW THE MALFOYS!' her father shouted. Hugo crouched in his chair. Crookshanks hissed angrily and disappeared behind the cupboard.

'YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT HIS BELOVED GREAT AUNT BELLATRIX DID TO YOUR MOTHER!' he went on. 'She tortured her. She used the Cru—'

'ENOUGH!' her mother was glowering at him now. She threw down the napkin and stood up. 'That's enough. I don't want another word from either of you.'

'No, Ron,' she held up her hand when he opened his mouth to protest. 'Rosie,' she turned to her daughter, 'go up to your room. I'll have a talk with you later.'

Rose pushed away her chair and walked out of the room. Her brother followed her quietly. She could hear Mom arguing with Dad as she climbed the stairs. Her legs felt wobbly, her throat was not working properly and her eyes prickled. Her brother wished her goodnight quietly at the landing. She kept on walking until she reached her room and closed the door.

And then she slid onto the floor and wept till her tears ran dry.

oooooo

She continued sitting huddled on the floor, with her chin tucked between her knees long after the tears had stopped falling. The house was quiet. A cool breeze sent shadows dancing across the floor. She sniffed.

A sudden white shadow caught her glance. She looked up. Hailey had returned from her hunting. She flew into the room and hopped beside her mistress. Rose uncurled her fingers and stroked her, making the owl close her eyes in bliss.

'Grown-ups can be so immature sometimes,' she mused, sighing deeply.

Hailey hooted her agreement.

oooooo

Scorpius sat reading and rereading the letter Rose had sent him this morning. She sounded angry, even though he couldn't figure out what she was furious about. She had not been very specific. All he could gather from the hastily written missive was that she had a fight with her dad, which was strange (she had a great relation with her father), and that she thought grown-ups were more immature than kids.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. It was still early morning and he was not yet awake properly. He would still be asleep if Hailey had not proceeded to peck him to death. She now sat quietly, like the well-behaved owl she was, eyeing him with benign interest. Apollo sent her interested looks.

'What has gotten her so mad?' he asked the owl, drawing out his writing desk and picking his quill. 'Any idea?'

She blinked and hooted. Apollo puffed up his feathers and slid a step towards her.

Scorpius snorted. He scratched his head on what to write before scribbling a few vague consoling words (honestly, how was he supposed to send support unless he knew what he was supporting her against). Then he carefully rolled it up and offered it to the owl. She clamped it in her beak and swept out into the morning light like a gracefully floating feather in a gentle breeze. Poor Apollo deflated a little.

'No luck there, boy. You just have to try harder next time,' chuckled Scorpius as he climbed into bed and closed his eyes again.

ooooo

Scorpius was busy sorting through his trunk next morning, looking for what he would take with him and what he would leave behind, when he heard a soft knock on the door. Wondering why her mother was knocking when she usually never bothered to, he called out 'come in' and went back to sorting his trunk.

'I see you are busy.'

His head whipped around at the familiar yet strange voice.

His father never came to his room without his mother. Yet there he stood, hesitating to come in. Scorpius stared.

'Perhaps I should come later,' his father turned to go.

'No no no! Stay.' Scorpius quickly got up and pulled out a chair.

His father hesitated a bit before walking into his room and sitting down. He looked around. The room was a mixture of colours. The red and gold of his Gryffindor robes and scarves stood in stark contrast to the green and silver upholstery and drapes of the room. One or two Ravenclaw flags also fluttered from his desk (he had cheered Al when he played against the Hufflepuffs in the previous session). Pictures of his favourite Quidditch team were pasted all over the room. They waved and showed off their moves at intervals. They helped to dispel the loneliness Scorpius felt whenever he came home. There were no portraits in the house to talk to. The only picture he had was of Rose and Al, laughing at him from the frame (well, Al laughed while Rose gave him bunny ears.)

Dad cleared his throat and gulped. 'How's school?' he asked.

'Wonderful as always,' Scorpius replied cautiously.

His father nodded, 'Made any new friends?'

'Not many. But Albus and I are best friends. And Rose is a good friend too,' he replied.

His father stiffened visibly, 'You mean Albus Potter?'

'Yes. And Rose Weasley.'

'A-and you are good friends, you say?'

'Yes. Best friends,' Scorpius wondered where this was heading.

When his father kept quiet, he questioned, 'You don't like me being friends with the Potters?'

'No, it's not that.' His father clasped and unclasped his hands. 'I just want you to be careful around them.'

'Why?'

His father looked more uneasy, if possible. 'You see,' he cleared his throat, 'I have never been on great terms with the Weasleys and the Potters. We were, so to say, enemies at school.'

Scorpius frowned, 'Yes I know you were enemies. There is something that happened between you people in the past, though I don't know what it is. But how does it affect us?'

His father cleared his throat again, 'I was not a very nice person in my youth. I said and did things that I am ashamed of now. Needless to say, some of them were directed at the Weasleys and. And they never forgave me for that.' He grew morose, rubbing the slight bump on his nose.

Scorpius observed his father. He was a fine man, with the hereditary good looks of a Malfoy. The only signs of aging were his receding hairline and the crinkles around his eyes and mouth. He looked tired. As if he carried an enormous burden on his shoulders all the time.

'Dad?'

His father turned his silver gaze on him.

'Is it something to do with their blood status?'

The blood drained from his father's face. 'H-how did you know?' he stammered.

Scorpius shrugged. It was not difficult to guess when his grandfather spewed such filthy utterances whenever he could.

'I was a malleable young man. I didn't know what was right. I was too blind to look past the power that Dad yielded,' his father mumbled.

Scorpius found himself pitying a young man, mercilessly bullied and brainwashed into thinking what his father thought was right. His grandfather was very cruel and manipulative in that sense. He got up and walked upto his father.

'It's alright Dad,' he said, squeezing his father's shoulders. 'And don't worry. They are my best friends. In fact, Rose is a fiercely loyal one. She defended me in my first year. Though I was a real prat to her until Second year.'

His father smiled a faint smiled. 'Is she bossy?'

'You have no idea! But Al and I manage to subdue her most of the time.'

His father chuckled and listened to him describe his friends and their adventures with enthusiasm. It was his mother who broke the cozy scene and announced that lunch was ready.

Scorpius couldn't stop smiling all day long.


To be continued...

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