A/N: Honestly, I don't even know if I like this chapter. It is a product of a rough battle with writer's block that has lasted for months, only to finally be defeated after a two week surge. I hope it was worth it.
I would never understand how I was capable of sleep that night. However, as inexplicable as it was, I instantly drifted off the moment I collapsed into the downy softness of my four poster. The next-time my eyes opened, the first blinding rays of sunrise were filtering through the tower windows.
Mercifully, I had slept dreamlessly, obliviously unconscious. In retrospect, I could only surmise that the building exhaustion of my life paired with the outrageous events of the night before had induced such a state.
That morning though, as I kicked at the stifling heat of my heavy bed covers, my mind remained hazily clouded. Despite the fuzziness, I still couldn't help but think that I felt even more uneasy than I usually did in the morning. I knew I always awoke on edge, ready to set out on whatever taxing day I had ahead of me. But I couldn't shake the feeling that today was different, as indicated by the heavy weight of despair in my stomach. Why was I feeling so uneasy though? Today was Saturday. Saturday was the one day of the week I ever felt like I had any sort of a break. It wasn't obligation free of course- there was the Quidditch match against Slytherin. Malfoy and the rest of his team were sure to pull out every cheap, dirty trick in the book, but…
Damn. Malfoy. Suddenly, the feeling of dread metamorphosed straight to one of nauseating panic. Images of the tall blond flitted through my mind, followed by a clattering wand against stone and a disapproving McGonogall behind her desk, backed up by portrait Snape and Dumbledore.
As if electrocuted, I shot upright in my bed, swiping the back of my hand against my mouth to wipe away any excess drool. Adrenaline pushing my body into alertness despite my lack of sleep, I slung my legs out of bed in one swift movement. My bare feet padded across the cool floor while I swept my matted hair up into a ponytail. I faced the mirror, attempting to slow my quickening heartbeat.
Now that I was conscious, the night before was coming back to me in stunning clarity. Along with it came unrestrained fear and anxiety.
McGonagall had not said much more to me after her revelation that I, Rose Weasley- star pupil and Head Girl, had been cheating my way through Hogwarts for practically my entire school career. She had simply responded as she did to any shocking event, whether it were Weasley Wizard's Wheezes fireworks going off in the loo or a fight in the corridor. She blinked blankly twice then pursed her lips in thought. Just as I thought she was about to ask for my wand in order to snap it she dismissed me with the directive to be in her office by 7:30 AM.
Now, by the looks of things, it was already nearing that time and I wasn't even dressed and McGonogall's office was ages away. Frantic to not screw up this one thing, I quickly changed into a jumper and jeans and was just pulling on my second shoe when I heard a pecking at the window. Startled, I turned to find my father's barn owl, Grimboll, waiting patiently on the ledge with a small brown envelope tied to his leg.
Still trying to avoid waking the other four girls in my dormitory, I practically jumped out of my skin as I rushed to the window. I swung the wood-framed glass open, cursing its creaking hinges. After a couple quick pats to the head, I untied the envelope from Grimboll's leg. Looking tired, the owl directly took off, heading in direction of the school owlery.
For a moment, I wallowed in the luxury of envying the creature's carefree existence and opportunity to sleep as I so desperately wished to do. Then I snapped back to reality and closed the window. I sat on the edge of my bed to open the letter, nervous to see what it would say. I tore at the paper of the envelope and was rewarded with access to what could hardly be called more than a scrap of parchment. I immediately recognized the scrawl of my father's handwriting, seeing that it was even messier than usual, as if he had been in an extraordinary hurry.
Rose,
McGonagall has floo'ed us- we are very disappointed and will see you in the morning.
Your Parents
I groaned, only slightly relieved to read what had been written on the note's reverse side:
Of course we also would like to hear your side Rosie- just be thankful I was able to stop your Mum from sending a howler.
Love, Dad
Leave it to my father to find a way to circumvent my mother. I sighed. I shouldn't have been surprised- of course McGonagall had contacted my parents, especially given the severity of my infractions. Still, some part of me had blindly hoped that I would be able to deal with this on my own first. Now my parents would be there when I was expelled. I could just imagine their disappointed faces. What was I going to do?
Taking a deep breath, I decided I could only do one thing. The only honorable choice was to face it head on, like the Gryffindor I was supposed to be. 'Supposed to be' being the key phrase. Last night was the first time I could ever remember doing anything valiant or noble in my life. Of course, that was a thought for another time.
The fact was, I was a Gryffindor and I had found that I at least had a tiny scrap of that trademark courage when I had made my confession the night before. McGonagall and my parents valued that. So if I was to have any hope at all of not being entirely shamed today, I was determined to make use of what I could. With that conviction, I silently slipped down the stairs, ready to face the music.
As I neared the gargoyle that guarded the doors to McGonagall's office, I had to admit that my previous steely determination to honorably deal with the situation had wavered a bit. I was further unnerved when the gargoyle simply swung aside as I approached, leaving my way to the staircase unhindered.
Despite my reservations I stepped onto the moving staircase and did my best to mentally prepare myself once more. I was decidedly less weak-stomached by the time I reached the top. Thankfully seeing my parents upon turning the corner was not a shock, and I even managed a half-hearted smile at my awkwardly grinning father while skillfully averting my eyes from my mother's face. I knew all too well the dissapointment I would see once I had to look at her. Instead of facing her, I stepped into my father's embrace, slightly comforted by the feel of his arms and the scent of home he carried with him. In comparison, my mother's one-arm embrace conveyed only the slightest motherly affection and revealed much more of her cold fury than anything else. I knew that by revealing myself as a cheater, I had just become the equivalent of a murderer in my mother's eyes, so I wouldn't have been surprised if she had started shouting at me right there. After all, she had learned from the best in both my Aunt Ginny and Grandmother Weasley.
Mercifully, McGonogall put an end to any more family reunion pleasantries and stopped any fit my mother was about to enter by clearing her throat.
"Now that we're all here," she began, business-like, "please do have a seat with your parents Miss Weasley."
It was only then that I noticed that my parents and the headmistress weren't the only ones in the office. When I turned my head to look toward McGonogall, I found myself also looking in the direction of the Malfoys.
Yes, Malfoys.
As in not only my partner-in-crime-slash-born-arch-nemesis, but also his former-death-eater-and-my-parents-ex-enemy father. His mother was also in attendance.
Bloody-freaking-great.
Why had I not realized that of course McGonogall would also call in the other rule-breaker in this situation? And his parents?
Yet, once I got beyond Malfoy shooting daggers at me with his eyes, I couldn't help but notice that his mother was actually quite pretty with her rosy cheeks and refined features. If it hadn't been for the worry etched onto her face, I could have almost imagined a mischievous glint in her green eyes. Even more shocking, his father hardly looked the part of the scary villain I had cooked up in my head as a child. In fact, he looked down-right normal, if not a little tired around his mouth. There wasn't even any malice directed in the direction of my parents. If anything, it seemed that the man was keeping his head down.
Ok, well maybe there was the tiniest bit of distaste, but that was probably because my father was practically snarling at him as he guided me toward the desk.
In a hope that keeping my family separate from the Malfoys might somehow keep the proceedings peaceful, I took a seat next to Malfoy, ignoring his silver eyes and the feeling that they were boring holes through me.
Before we were all even settled in, McGonogall began immediately, using her best disapproving and matter-of-fact tone.
"You are all well aware of why you have been called here," she stated, hands folded sublimely on her desk. "I have never been so shocked by or disappointed in any two Hogwarts students, and find it a disgrace to Hogwarts that the two top students- head boy and head girl at that- are nothing more than a pair of very clever cheaters. I…"
It was at that point that Mr. Malfoy broke the parental silence, interrupting the professor. I watched in awe as he spoke- no one ever interrupted the headmistress.
"With all due respect professor, while I acknowledge that it seems my son has made an obvious transgression, I also must demand that he be given his chance to tell his side of the story. Are we to simply take the word of the Weasley girl, because if so…"
Now it was Mr. Malfoy's turn to be interrupted, and when I turned to look at my father, I saw that his face was turning a lovely shade of red that nearly matched his hair. This was exactly what I had been afraid of- old rivalries seemed to be coming to the surface and we had only been together in this room for a few minutes.
"Right, because if one them is dishonest, its my daughter, not the Malfoy…"
"Ron, stop it!" my mother scolded, hand resting on my father's arm as if willing him to remain seated. She looked scandalized and turned to apologize profusely to McGonogall. Mrs. Malfoy, on the other hand, was obviously somewhat of a third party to this entire situation, demurely placing her hand over her husband's, mirroring my mother's actions but in a much more contained manner. The woman deserved a medal for placidity.
"That will be quite enough!" McGonogall commanded, looking severe, waving off my mother's apologies. In a moment every party in the room silenced, settling back into their chairs, though not without a few huffs and puffs. Had the situation not been so serious, I might have even laughed out how the two grown men in the room looked determinably uneasy as they shifted in their chairs under McGonogall's piercing gaze.
"While I do not appreciate either yours or Mr. Weasley's insinuations about each other's families Mr. Malfoy, I do grant that you have a point,"
"What the-" my father began, before being effectively silence by the glares of both my mother and the headmistress. Just in time too, as I was sure that one of his trademark, improper outbursts would have followed if not checked. McGonogall continued, voice strained and lips thin.
"Therefore, it is only fair to allow Mr. Malfoy a chance to give us his side of this matter. And I must admit I am a bit blurry on details- so, Mr. Malfoy, please do explain to us your involvement in this situation."
Immediately, I noticed a flicker of the same insecurity on our fathers' faces in the presence of McGonogall on Scorpius'. That is, for a moment. A second later I could have imagined it as he drew up a bit straighter in his chair. My stomach churned at how he could still look so…haughty…in a situation as serious as this one. Suppressing a gag, I wondered what he was possibly about to say to explain how this had all started.
Would he tell everyone that I had roped him into it? Probably not, as no one would believe it. Perhaps he would tell them how he had walked in that December afternoon after the final lessons of the day to find me desperately trying to correctly brew a batch of the boil cure potion. Or how he had pestered me long enough to find out that Professor Vane, out of an old soft spot for my Uncle Harry, had been allowing me second chances at brewing each potion so I wouldn't fail. He might mention that I had still only been able to produce hardly acceptable versions of each assignment and he had ultimately offered to exchange his perfect samples of each potion if I would do his homework for the required Muggle Studies course that he hardly found worth his while. He might elaborate how over the years I had completed any assignment for him that he wished, on the claim that he didn't want to waste any of his precious time on 'worthless' busy work, though he probably could have done it all at top speed, given his level of intelligence.
Of course, given that he was intelligent, he finally gave a heavily edited version of events. I simultaneously shuddered at the sickening silky-smooth, confident tone of his voice while also envying his ability to keep his cool.
"Professor McGonogall, I wish to offer my apologies for my mistake and can only say that I made a misguided attempt to aid a fellow classmate and allowed it to go too far. I am honestly sorry, and promise to do better in the future."
Malfoy was extremely gifted at making nothing sound like a whole lot of something I decided. I nearly guffawed at the git's explanation, biting my lip to maintain a straight face. This feat was only made more complicated by the fact that I happened to notice that McGonogall obviously wasn't buying what Malfoy was selling either.
"Well, while I appreciate the heartfelt apology, I must admit I am still in the dark about what could have possibly inspired this partnership, particularly from two students that seemingly have no desire to interact outside of their necessary duties."
I winced at McGonogall's assertion, recollecting how obvious it had been at the beginning of the year that neither of us had any desire to work so closely with the other. Funny, considering.
" However," the headmistress continued, "as you seem unwilling to explain any further, perhaps I can ask you Miss Weasley?"
McGonogall turned on me, and any trace of disbelieving humor immediately vanished from my face. I swallowed, trying to remember my previous determination to live up to expectations this once. With this goal in mind, I chose to get directly to the point, the words spilling out of my mouth without any .
"First year, Professor Vane allowed me opportunities to earn extra credit by re-brewing the potions. I was still barely passing, and Malfoy discovered that and made a proposition."
"Which was?"
Ignoring the death glares that were most certainly coming from the prat in the chair beside me.
"He would provide potion samples for me that I could swap with my own in exchange for my completion of his less desirable assignments."
The room was silent, but the tension in the room was palpable. My father fidgeted in his seat, fiddling with a string on the hem of his shirt. My mother's face was the picture of shocked disbelief. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy sat perfectly still while Scorpious simply clutched at the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white.
Only McGonogall still appeared unfazed.
"Well Mr. Malfoy? Is that an accurate explanation?"
Every eye in the room turned to look at Scorpius, and somehow I managed to take a sideways peek as well. I was on a roll with this whole courage thing. I noted that Malfoy's entire body was tensed, and that his features were marred with outright anger, rather than the shame that I was sure was visible on my own. With his jaw clenched he muttered a simple one word reply- "Yes."
Ignoring the slightest sound of disgust coming from the portrait of Snape, McGonogall pressed on, all business.
"Very well then. I don't need to hear anything else- I have made my decision."
My mind spun- this was it. I was about to be expelled. What was I going to do? Would I learn to live like a Muggle? Would they perhaps let me stay on, maybe work with Hagrid- after all, he had been expelled too. Not that I had any interest in the care of magical creatures…
"Mr. Malfoy and Miss Weasley," she began, as I held my breath along with every other person in the room. "Given the gravity as well as the number and habitual nature of your offenses, you will both hand over your Head badges before you leave this office. You are also, effective immediately and until further notice, stripped of the privilege of playing for your house quidditch teams. Furthermore, you will report to detention each Friday evening, as well as Saturday mornings."
What happened after this proclamation, I can hardly detail. Though I recognized angry voices flared, I was lost in my own disbelief. I could only think that I hadn't been expelled.
I couldn't begin to understand why not, but I immediately felt relief despite recognizing the radical change that was coming to my life at Hogwarts and the tarnish that would now forever mar my 'perfect' record.
Ultimately, it was my mother's voice that finally brought me back to the present.
"But professor, what could you possibly need them for every weekend?"
"Hermione," she began, shocking me by using my mother's first name, "trust me when I say I am giving both Mr. Malfoy and your daughter an extraordinary opportunity. Of course, should any party object, then either student is free to leave. However, it should be noted that their transcripts would have to be voided as it is uncertain which grades they have truly earned, given the circumstances."
Silence fell once more- everyone understood that voided transcripts meant broken wands, and the threat was enough to end any argument. McGonogall looked satisfied with the unspoken agreement given, and pushed her chair back.
"Very well. Then I thank you all for your presence this morning, and trust that you can each find your way out- I expect that Mr. Malfoy and Miss Weasley have some hard news to break to their teams now, and I have my own announcements to make at breakfast this morning. I will see you both Monday- you will receive directions by dinner that evening. Good day."
And with that, McGonogall stepped away from her desk and left the office, leaving six very shocked people in her wake.
Mrs. Malfoy was the first to break the ensuing silence.
Laying a hand on her son's shoulder, she stood from her chair.
"We'll write soon Scorpious- please do make the best of this." She leaned down and kissed his forehead gracefully and somehow proprietarily before looking at her husband pointedly. Brows furrowing together, Mr. Malfoy stood as well.
"Just remember who you are son." He stated simply, shaking Scorpius' hand before following behind his wife. I rolled my eyes at the insinuation of the old Malfoy pride, while also noting that Mrs. Malfoy nodded at my own mother with something that looked less like common courtesy and more like some sort of motherly understanding or sympathy.
While his parents left, Scorpius sat glued to his seat, seemingly still seething by the looks of his tense body language. He didn't even spare either of his parents much of a response.
However, I had little time to consider this before my own parents stood, ready to leave.
I swallowed instinctively as I stood as well, worried at what their actions might be now that the headmistress was out of the room.
Fortunately, it didn't seem that I had lost any esteem in the eyes of my father. He pulled me into the overly-enthusiastic bear-hug embrace that I've known for as long as I could remember.
"Good luck Rosie- it will all work out. Always does." He said, grip tight. "Love you sweetheart."
As he stepped back, my mother eased forward, far more tentative. Of course, that was nothing short of usual. While my father is spontaneous and boisterous, my mother is just as reserved and thoughtful. Except when she isn't, of course. I could only hope that she would not have one of her emotional, over-reactive episodes today.
"Rose, I am disappointed, but I also appreciate your forthrightness today. I trust you will make this right," she stated sternly, using her best mothering-skills to guilt-trip me. It was working.
"But," she said, stepping closer and pulling me into a hug much more genuine than our greeting embrace, "I also love you. We'll see you at Christmas- give Hugo and your cousins our love."
And with that, my parents left, my father sparing one shy smile and wave over his shoulder.
This, of course, left me alone with Malfoy.
Somehow, that fact made me more nervous than my mother had just moments before. I turned around, finding that the pale blond was still seated.
I shuffled my weight from foot to foot, wondering whether I should just leave. Somehow I felt like I should say something. After all, while I absolutely detested Malfoy, we had become oddly interlinked over the past several years.
Just as I was contemplating a muttered goodbye and hasty exit, Malfoy spoke up.
"This is all your fault Weasley," he stated malevolently, not even bothering to turn and face me.
I narrowed my eyes, feeling that I was on the brink of my emotional stability. Honestly, I didn't think I had the energy left to deal with this at the moment and all thoughts of owing Malfoy anything were suddenly erased, rage bubbling inside me at this unjust statement.
"Right, because you didn't benefit at all Malfoy," I stated sarcastically. Not to mention start it.
He shook his head, finally rising from his seat and turning to face me.
"But I didn't get caught, did I?"
He breathed the questions directly into my face, having stormed across the room, causing me to shrink in fear as he gripped my upper arm.
Then, just as suddenly, his face melted back into the emotionless smirk I was so used to before he unceremoniously left the room.
Alone, I finally let a tear drift down my cheek.
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