This chapter is rather long, again. It's not about Legacy, really, but the story isn't just about Legacy; it's about the characters as well. This chapter is particularly devoted to Scorpius as he realizes his feelings for Rose Weasley, and actually, Ron Weasley as well. I've noticed that some people really seem to hate Ron, mostly based off of his character in the movies. They changed a lot about him in the movies, though - giving his brave, loyal line to Hermione, and not explaining the reason for his jealousy. Ron has always been one of my favorite characters, so this is sort of a glass raised to him - seeing him through Scorpius's eyes.

I really do hope you enjoy this. Also, I've never actually written anything even remotely romantic before, and I don't exactly have much life experience to speak of, being fourteen years old, so. . . any tips? If you could tell me how I'm doing, I'd really appreciate it.

Disclaimer: This world and these characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is the plot.

Alice Longbottom was exhausted. Those bloody O.W.L.s were supposed to ensure that she had a marvelous, bright future – but they were well on their way to ensuring that she had no future at all.

It was worse for James, Fred, Louis, and Rowan. As seventh years, they were preparing to take their N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year, and while the fifth years were seen permanently red-eyed, hair un-combed, unkempt, and rather unpleasant to be around, the seventh years were something to be feared. They had two modes: snappish, don't-breathe-the-wrong-way mode and unresponsive, zombie mode.

Alice didn't know how she hadn't noticed in on the other Weasley cousins the previous years, because it seemed terribly obvious to her now. Maybe it was because she was a fifth year herself.

The Quidditch players had to drag themselves out onto the pitch for practice, straining to keep their eyes open. James Potter was a great captain and had led the Gryffindor team to victory twice already, since his captaincy when Dom Weasley graduated. That year the Beater spot had opened, and Alice had been spectacular at tryouts, outdoing any who got close to beating her out for the spot (no pun intended). However, he was rather a maniac in his determination to win the Cup one last year before he left Hogwarts.

He was usually good at being reasonable, although he was hard on them and held them up to incredibly high standards. There was simply nothing to be done, however, what with the team being comprised entirely of seventh and fifth years.

The school hadn't seen a prank out of James, Louis, Fred, or Rowan the entire year – although Fred kept his easy grin and Louis maintained his suave, up-for-anything charm, signs of stress were visible on them, too.

Christmas break was about to start, though, and all of Legacy was heading over to Andromeda Tonks's home by invitation of Teddy for a Christmas party, pureblood style. (Apparently, Astoria Malfoy had had a very large hand in planning it, and it was turning out to be some sort of extravagant ball. It would be fun, though – they all knew each other well and knew how to have a good time, even if there would be a bunch of random adults at the party as well, including half the Auror office.)

"All right, Alice?" Rose asked, coming up behind her.

Alice glanced up at her. "You look good today," she said in surprise. "Where are the red eyes? The grey hairs? The dead expression of those cracking under pressure?" It was true – Rose looked visibly rejuvenated. Her hair, which had always been rather wild but had started to become pretty sometime during the last year, no longer looked like a rat's nest. Her blue eyes were almost sparkling with good humor, and some color had returned to her face, which had begun to take on the complexion of printer paper.

"It's a great day!" Rose answered, and Alice looked at her warily. Rose was not one of those incessantly cheerful, bubbly people. Did she finally break? Had the pressure finally driven her mad? "You know, sun shining. . . birds chirping. . ."

They both turned to look out the window, where the sky was a solid grey without a spot of sunlight to be seen and not even the owls dared hoot, in case it somehow solidified into ice and killed them.

"Maybe up where you are," Alice said flatly, "but down here with the rest of us, the sun's hidden behind several kilometers' thick clouds."

Rose rolled her eyes. Their height had become somewhat of a running joke between them, because Rose was now 5'9" and Alice was still five feet. It was ridiculous how much they'd grown the summer after fourth year – all of a sudden, she had to crane her neck up to look at Al and Scorpius, who were two to three inches taller than her.

It was all right for Scorpius – he was a Beater! But Al was a Seeker; whatever happened to being small and wiry? "I'm just glad we've got break tomorrow," Rose admitted, leaning back.

Alice grinned. "We've got that party at Andromeda's. Just what we need." She sighed. "Really, I know all the stuff we're learning, but the amounts of homework they're giving us is ridiculous. Are you bringing a date to the party? I know the boys are."

"Of course they are," Rose grinned. "They've been dating for over a year, and Al still can't stop staring when Serena Collins comes around. Unless he's on the Quidditch pitch. Remember the time he rammed into her during that mad chase for the snitch last year and then stayed with her overnight in the hospital wing?"

Alice grinned. "How could I forget? Scorpius had to take him dinner from the kitchens. He's taking Jess Brooks, by the way. She saved him from drinking pumpkin juice that some third year slipped love potion into."

Rose snorted. "The poor female masses. Why is it half of the are obsessed with our best mates?"

"Because we're insanely handsome," a new voice said. Scorpius dropped into an armchair, grinning, and Al sprawled across the couch as they soaked in the warmth from the fireplace. "Talking about us, I see. Anything you want to confess?" He waggled his eyebrows dramatically. "Rose? Alice?"

Alice took a sip of her butterbeer; they kept a stash in their dormitories. "I'm madly in love with you, Scorpius. Marry me."

"Sorry," he grinned. "Wouldn't want to disappoint – what was it? Oh, yes, the 'poor female masses.' I'm a Gryffindor, after all. Noble as Merlin."

"Has pre-break excitement taken you over too?" Alice asked with a sigh. She shook her head at Al. "Rose has been acting scarily cheerful." She reached for her butterbeer before frowning and looking around. "Where did my butterbeer go?"

Rose grinned unapologetically. "Drank it," she told Alice, giving her the empty bottle. "Mine was finished."

Alice scowled and threw the bottle at Rose, who caught it easily. "I'm a Chaser, Alice. Next time, try hexing me."

The four grinned to themselves, pulling out last minute homework assignments that they needed to get done, but for once, it wasn't an ordeal threatening to turn their hair grey.

Scorpius leaned against the wall, waiting for Al and Serena to show up with his date. He was early to the celebration, and Serena was bringing Jess, who was staying at her house for Christmas.

Currently, his only company was Mr. Weasley – Ron, that was, not any of the dozens of other Mr. Weasleys Scorpius knew. Apparently Fred had charmed Hugo's dress robes to attack him when he visited the previous day, and Rose and Hermione were attempting to save him.

"How is Hogwarts?" Ron asked him. He had warmed up to Scorpius over the years, although Hermione was generally the one who showed affection towards him, and Scorpius was going home with Rose's family that night.

"Bloody awful," Scorpius said truthfully, kicking at the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. "It's as if all the teachers have turned into Trelawney. All they ever do is harp about how, I dunno, Gamp's Fifth Law of Elemental Transfiguration is worded differently or something . . . although, none of them have ever told me my inner eye lacks true vision. . ."

He expected Ron Weasley to chide him – that seemed to be all adults did these days. To his surprise, however, Ron laughed. "That woman could drive a saint to madness. Did you know Hermione walked out of her class?"

He did, actually. But Ron didn't need to know that. "I don't blame her," Scorpius grumbled. "I told her I'd be sure to get inner-eye glasses, and she took five points off of Gryffindor."

Ron grinned, and Scorpius was struck by how laid back Rose's father was. He'd never really gotten to speak with him alone before. "Am I interrupting anything?" a voice asked, and Scorpius turned to the door.

Jess Brooks stood there wearing crystalline blue dress robes, and Scorpius found that shade of blue to be one of the loveliest things he'd ever seen. It struck him as very familiar for some reason. His favorite color had always been blue, anyway. Well, when he was younger it had been green, but what sort of Gryffindor would he be if it remained that way?

"You look nice," Scorpius told her, grinning charmingly.

Jess grinned back. "You too," she returned, and Scorpius nodded at Al and Serena.

"Looking good, Collins," he grinned, and she raised her glass to him.

"Come on," Al urged him, "everyone's already here. Except Rose and Hugo, that is." Scorpius frowned in surprise – he hadn't noticed everyone else's arrival. They met with the other Legacy members and their various dates, catching up.

"How's Romania been, Dom?" Scorpius asked her.

"Great!" Her eyes lit up. "Just yesterday, I nearly got burned to a crisp. Would've died if it weren't for him." She jerked her head at the tall, dark-haired guy beside her.

"Adrian Bradley," the guy introduced himself, shaking Scorpius's hand. "The girl is suicidal, did you know? She seems to have a penchant for breaking rules."

"I was bending them," Dom insisted, winking at Scorpius. "Besides, Adrian would be sans one head if it weren't for my suicidal tendencies."

"Scorpius!" another voice came from behind him, and he turned to grin at Rose. She was bent over, gasping, her wild curls all over the place and her translucent blue eyes bright. Hugo was talking to Lily behind her, and Scorpius caught the edges of a bruise across his jaw.

"Is that a sleeve mark?" he asked in amusement, tracing a finger along her cheekbone.

Rose nodded glumly. "Hugo's dress robes really liked slapping people across the face. I'm going to have a word with Madam Malkin's about their dress robes' violent natures. Oh, hello, Jess. How've you been?"

"Wonderful," Jess answered with a smile. "The party's great; I'm actually considering leaving my post."

"Your post?" Rose asked, cocking a brow.

"I'm Scorpius's knight in shining armor. He's awfully defenseless against those vicious girls and their daunting love potions."

"Hey!" he protested. "That hurts. Really."

Rose snickered. "It's nice to see who the Gryffindor in this friendship is," she commented dryly, earning herself a kick to the shins from Scorpius. She scowled at him. "Noble, my arse. You should have been a Slytherin."

"Take that back at once!" Scorpius ordered in outrage, whipping out his wand.

Jess shook her head mock-disapprovingly at him. "Breaking the law, now, are we? Doing magic outside of school – I can't believe this."

He exchanged a grin with Rose. "I would never dream of breaking the law or doing magic outside of school," he declared, tugging a strand of Jess's hair playfully. She had charmed it into perfect curls, but he found he liked the untamable sort better.

Kind of like Rose's, he mused. Wait – what? Scorpius froze, and two pairs of eyes turned on him curiously – one pair grey, and the other a crystalline blue. The same color of Jess's dress robes. The same color he'd thought was his favorite. Oh, hell no.

He'd obviously had too much firewhiskey. He set his glass down rapidly and hastily gave an excuse, nearly running away from a bewildered Jess and Rose.

As he made his way outside, he passed Lucy and Will Raven. "Scorpius," Lucy called, waving him over. "Good to see you again. Merlin, you're tall. Everyone's grown so much – I just caught James snogging Cecy Pryce in the hallway."

"The O.W.L.s are killing me," he murmured absently. Listen to me, Scorpius Malfoy. You do not fancy Rose Weasley. She's one of your best mates! Besides, you only noticed this today. It's not like it really means anything; so she's pretty. You think all your friends are pretty. Al's pretty. Wait, no – never mind. I'll just pretend I never said that. Oh, Merlin, I'm going crazy. . .

"Shut up," he snapped at himself, irritated at his thoughts, and Lucy arched her eyebrows.

"You Gryffindors. So polite. It's been great talking to you after a year and a half." Will and Lucy walked off.

Several seconds late, Scorpius registered the conversation and shouted, "I was talking to myself!"

Lucy gave him a strange look and continued to walk away, and several guests turned to stare at Scorpius. Realizing how that had sounded, he raked a hand through his hair. "Oh, Merlin," he groaned. "This is not my day."

A voice chuckled, and Scorpius turned again to find Harry Potter and Ron Weasley standing there with drinks in their hands. "Would you like one?" Ron asked, handing Scorpius a firewhiskey. "You look like you could use it. Just don't tell Hermione or Ginny."

Scorpius shook his head so fast he felt like it would fall off. "I think I've had too much of that stuff. I'm going mad."

Harry laughed. "We've all been there. You should've seen my fifth year. It was absolutely mental."

"Not as mental as our seventh," Ron snorted. "Just you wait, Scorpius, you'll be sobbing into your essays before the year is out."

Scorpius, who had seen their fifth and seventh years, thought very privately that they had no idea what he was talking about. For all the horrible things they'd faced, neither of them had ever suffered through a matter such as fancying one's best mate.

Well, except Ron, he supposed, but Hermione fancied him back! And Rose definitely did not think of Scorpius that way, he knew for a fact. He probably didn't fancy Rose anyway. Really, she was Rose. So what if she was a brilliant flyer and was incredibly funny at times and had an endearingly short temper and had dueled hordes of Slytherins with him and had once knocked Miles Corney out with a single punch for making fun of Scorpius's name, and had gotten the house-elves in the kitchens to spoil him rotten on his birthday, and had taught him how to swear in French before he ever went to France on holiday, and had somehow convinced Severus Snape to pay a visit to the Fat Lady's portrait in their first year so Scorpius could see another example of someone with a worse name than him – "I'd take Scorpius over Snivellus any day, wouldn't you?" – and she'd even once –

"Are you all right?" Ron Weasley broke into Scorpius's thoughts, and his face paled in horror.

"Oh, no," Scorpius breathed, sounding sick to his stomach. Of course he fancied Rose! Who wouldn't fancy Rose? She was bloody amazing! "Excuse me," he said to Harry and Ron Weasley. "I'm going to go kill myself."

Before either of them could say a word, he had run off.

"Let's play a game of wizard's chess, Scorpius," Ron invited the next day. So they sat beside the window and were silent for a while, not speaking except to order the pieces about. Scorpius had just lost his knight to the black rook when Ron spoke.

"You fancy Rose, don't you?"

Scorpius froze, eyes widened in horror. He looked out the window uncomfortably. It was evening, but the sky had already gone dark, and the snow glittered under the faint sheen of starlight. He glanced back at Ron, who was looking back at him unwaveringly with translucent blue eyes – Rose's eyes.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked finally, and his voice didn't have any of the usual confidence, charm, and humor.

"Not at all," Ron answered with a faint smile. "I don't think even Hermione has guessed, and she usually notices everything. And I'm not the most observant with that sort of thing, but. . . I know what it's like, you know? Fancying one of your closest friends, and not for easy reasons like her looks, or maybe a simple aspect of her personality. Those are easy to brush off. But here – it's also her actions, isn't it? Things she'd done or said before, and you've felt this way for a while, but you've only just noticed it."

Scorpius looked at Ron with something like amazement. Hermione had once accused him of having the emotional range of a teaspoon, but that wasn't entirely true. Either that, or somewhere in his adolescent years, Ron Weasley had grown up.

And it only took a war to do it, Scorpius thought humorlessly. "That's exactly what it's like," he admitted, moving a rook to support his white bishop. Ron's eyes swept over the board analytically.

"She feels the same way about you, you know," Ron told him. "I know her well, and she may not know it, but she does. Give it time."

Again, Scorpius looked at him in awe. "Shouldn't you be warning me away from your daughter?"

Ron laughed. "I'd rather it be you than anyone else," he told him truthfully. "At least I know you, and I know you're a decent wizard, and I know how close you two are already. Besides, it's easy to see that you care a lot about her."

Scorpius looked down again, studying the board, and Ron frowned. "You could be really good at this, you know. You think the right way. See. . ."

And it became a routine for them. By the end of that week, when his father came for him, Scorpius was a lot better at wizard's chess, and the day of awkwardness around Rose had been forgotten, as he was acting normal again.

"Well," his father said when they arrived back at the manor. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Scorpius nodded. "Yeah," he said, "a lot. I played wizard's chess with Ron every evening, and –"

His father snorted. "Please don't tell me you like the Weasel."

"Don't call him that," Scorpius snorted. He faced his father. "I like Ron. Ever since your school years, you've seen him as the stupidest of the three, or just an unimportant sidekick who could be replaced with anyone, but it isn't true. He's incredibly intelligent, even if he isn't particularly book smart – he's an incredible strategist, which you can't deny once you've seen him play wizard's chess. He's more observant than anyone gives him credit for, too. And he's good under pressure – he's an Auror, after all. Don't underestimate him, Dad. He's a great wizard."

Scorpius knew it wasn't just his dad. He'd been through the pensieve, after all, and he knew Ron Weasley had his flaws, but he was also someone Scorpius admired. He acted like a horrible jerk out of jealousy, sometimes – but it was one flaw, and it wasn't irrational.

He'd once told Harry Potter, "Everyone expects me to do as well as they others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first." And what about his good qualities? Even when he was young, Ron had had admirable characteristics. Everyone always saw Hermione as the collected one, but in the Devil's Snare, it had been Ron who kept his cool:

"Yes – of course – but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

And at the same age, his self-sacrifice – his bravery – he was a true Gryffindor:

"Yes. . ." said Ron softly, "it's the only way. . . I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices!"

Not to mention his loyalty:

"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, whoever, spoke to Black.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.

He had made mistakes, but didn't everyone? He abandoned Harry in the Forest of Dean at one of his weakest moments, under the influence of the horcrux, which preyed on his flaws, exploiting his drive to prove himself and turning it into jealousy, putting irrational thoughts in his head.

Yes, he had left Harry, but he had returned, and would another person have even bothered to accompany him in the first place? Would they have showed that incredibly loyalty; that Gryffindor bravery?

"He knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn't he? He – well," Ron's ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, "he must've known I'd run out on you."

"No," Harry corrected. "He must have known you'd always want to come back."

And later,

"You've sort of made up for it tonight," said Harry. "Getting the sword. Finishing off the horcrux, saving my life."

"That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was," Ron mumbled.

"Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was," said Harry. "I've been trying to tell you that for years."

And it wasn't just that. One of the things that Scorpius liked the most about Ron Weasley was not those other qualities that were so admirable, so characteristic of the House of the Brave, but his humor. It was so relatable – Ron Weasley often said things that were simply, utterly uproarious:

"Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost."

The whole class looked around at Harry, who hastily tried to recall what Dumbledore had told him the night they had gone to visit Slughorn. "Er – well – ghosts are transparent – " he said.

"Oh, very good," interrupted Snape, his lip curling. "Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. 'Ghosts are transparent.'"

Pansy Parkinson let out a high-pitched giggle. Several other people were smirking. Harry took a deep breath and continued calmly, though his insides were boiling. "Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren't they? So they'd be solid –"

"A five-year-old could have told us as much," sneered Snape. "The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard's spells. It is not alive, it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A ghost, as I trust you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon earth, and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, transparent."

"Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart!" said Ron. "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a look to see if its solid, aren't we, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'"

How could you not like that? "Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?" It was bloody hilarious!

"Scorpius –" Draco Malfoy broke into his son's thoughts.

"Don't," Scorpius said softly. "I had the courage to be like Ron Weasley, I'd be proud. He's admirable, Dad, whatever you may think – and yet people often look down on him without knowing the whole story behind his character. You cannot judge a person like that."

He would know about being judged; having expectations. If anyone would understand Legacy, it would be Ron Weasley, Scorpius felt. Scorpius met his father's typical Black family eyes. Sirius Black had had those eyes. . . he was another person Scorpius admired.

"What is it?" he demanded defiantly, aware that his father was staring at him. He straightened and was surprised to note that at some point, he had grown taller than his father. Lifting his chin, he kept all the ideals of Legacy firmly in his mind. He was not going to back down on this point – he would not take back any of what he'd said.

Shockingly, Draco Malfoy smiled. "I was just thinking of how much you've grown," he told his son.

The clock chimed from behind them, and both Malfoys turned to find Astoria Malfoy smiling at them as the bell rang twelve times.

"Happy New Year," she said.