Rose tapped her wand in the centre of the parchment and the various pieces rolled up neatly into a scroll, a red ribbon tying itself around the package. "You're not still looking for that painting, are you?" Rose looked up from the table to see Scorpius sauntering into the common room, his Nimbus Three Thousand at his side. "Oh, come on, Scorp, I'm just sending a letter to my mum," she complained.

Scorpius rested on his broom on the other side of the table. "As long as you promise not to go off doing anything else - "

"Yes, yes," Rose rolled her eyes and jumped up out of her seat.

" - and so long as I go post it." Scorpius looked her straight in the eye.

"Seriously?" Rose huffed. "Can't I do anything now?"

Scorpius held out his hand for the letter. "Rose, you only got out of the hospital wing yesterday, and that was thanks to Felix's tears. It's been barely a week since you got pushed off that tower - and yes, I know what you told me before Rose - it's true," he added at her exasperated sigh. They'd had a few arguments about the attempts on Rose's life - Scorpius said he was sure that someone was out to get her, but Rose was sure that she remembered that the stone that had nearly fallen on her had been loosened by Peeves anyway, and she certainly didn't remember anyone pushing her off the astronomy tower, only tripping.

"Just let me take the letter to the owlery, okay?" He said, pained, and Rose finally crumbled at the pleading look on his face.

"Okay," she reluctantly handed the roll of parchment over.

"I'll be back in a sec," Scorpius grabbed his broom and went to leave out the portrait hole.

"You're not going to fly, are you?" Rose asked incredulously.

"Hey, that's a good idea, actually," he went to mount his broom.

"Scorpius Malfoy," she put one hand on her hip.

"Fine, fine," he grinned, and dashed out the portrait hole on foot. "Be back soon!" He called over his shoulder.

"You'd better be," Rose called back before the painting swung shut after him. She thought she could hear the Fat Lady muttering something about Slytherins not being allowed in the common room in her day, but she couldn't be sure.

"I'm back," Scorpius tumbled into the common room.

"Finally," Rose said, not looking up from her book. Scorpius collapsed into an armchair across from her. "What are you - argh," Rose exclaimed as he splattered mud from his quidditch gear all over the couch. "Scourgify," she flicked her wand and the mud disappeared from his clothes. Scorpius shivered.

"Ugh, that was - weird," he shook his head and his fringe flopped back down, nearly obscuring his grey eyes.

Rose didn't reply, already engrossed in her book. "Rose," Scorpius leaned over and snatched her book away, which elicited a cry of outrage. "We need to talk." Rose crossed her arms and frowned at him.

"About what?"

"About you," he stated. "Now, I know you don't believe me about you being in danger, but - no, listen, Rose! - I think someone's tampered with you memory," he leaned forward insistently.

"I - " Rose faltered. It could be possible - Scorpius had told her that she'd talked to him just after she fell from the tower, and had told him that someone had pushed her. She didn't remember, but he'd said that she'd seemed perfectly lucid. And there was something nagging her about that day with the falling statue - something that she'd been going to tell Scorpius about, but didn't for the fear that he'd get overprotective, like now.

"Hmmm?" He nodded at her.

"Well, maybe," she conceded. "But Scorp - why would someone want to kill me? How am I dangerous?" Scorpius leaned back, both satisfied and concerned.

"Let's start at the start - like you do with any other mystery," he decided. "What was happening when the rock nearly fell on you? What was different?" He asked her.

"Well, we were looking for the painting," she said. "I'd just taken up the case, and you and Al were helping me."

Rose tapped her wand absently on the arm of her seat. "But what is so special about a portrait of Newt Scamander? There must be more of them around." Scorpius gazed over Rose's shoulder.

"When did it disappear? Maybe someone stole it, and they don't want you to find it," he guessed.

"Hmmm," Rose wasn't convinced.

"It was last seen in 1968," she remembered. "Now, what happened in 1968?" Rose walked over to a pile of books and picked one from the bottom. "Now, this should have it," she flicked through the yellowed pages until she found what she was looking for. "Here - 1968, Gwenog Jones is born - no, I don't want births ... Hamlisch MacFarlan becomes Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports ... Squibs Right's Marches ... Nobby Leach resigns as Minister for Magic," Rose paused.

"That was quite a scandal - he was the first muggle to become Minister for Magic, you know, and many people think Abraxas Malfoy and his high-up friends had something to do with his 'resigning'," she stopped mid-sentence, her mouth an 'o' shape, and looked up, face red, at Scorpius. They sat in silence for a second.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"No problem," he said gruffly. "I don't give a damn about my family and their stupid pure-blood mania anyway." After another lengthy silence, Rose stood up and grabbed another book from a pile on the other side of the room.

"What happened at Hogwarts in 1969, then..." Again, she rifled through the pages until she found the right entry.

"Slytherin wins the Quidditch Cup, but Ravenclaw wins overall ... Ooh, that was Grandad's senior year! ... Oh!" Rose looked up again, this time a look of surprise and excitement on her face.

"What?" Scorpius leaned forward eagerly. "April 12th - Minister of Magic Nobby Leach visits Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry." The two looked at each other.

"What if he took the painting - " Scorpius started,

" - and someone doesn't want me to find it?" Rose finished for him. "But why me?" She frowned. "The Lysander twins have been looking for it for ages," she wracked her brains for the answer.

"Well, what could you do with a painting that they couldn't?" Scorpius asked her slowly,as if the answer was just coming to him.

"Scorpius," she said. "What if there's something hidden in that painting?" His stormy grey eyes stared back at her.

"What are you suggesting?" Rose took a second to gather her thoughts.

"We know that Leach was probably forced out because he was pro-muggle-born, being one himself, but what if it was because of one specific thing that he was trying to do? What if he was trying to pass a bill that the pure-blood families didn't like?" Rose's hands were shaking now.

"Yes?" Scorpius encouraged her.

"What if he hid the bill in that painting, and stole the painting to make sure no one could destroy it?" Scorpius frowned.

"But why is it a problem now? Surely your mum, at least, has passed whatever law it was already," he reasoned, but Rose shook her head.

"Scorpius, this is serious," she steadied her hands. "They tried to kill me, and that's not something they'd do lightly - it causes a scene, you see?" She explained at his look of incomprehension.

"Nobby Leach tried to pass a law that to this day still doesn't exist," she trembled. "It couldn't be to do with the statute of secrecy, of course, but what else wouldn't the rich wizarding families of Britain want?" She asked Scorpius.

"I don't know," he shrugged.

"I don't know either," Rose admitted. "But it's something big." She shivered. "Something that could change the wizarding world."

At the Ministry of Magic, Hermione Weasley was more than ready to go home after a particularly challenging day as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. First it had been welcoming the new Aurors, which wouldn't have been too bad as Harry and Ron had been there too, but there had been an accident with an escaped cockatrice from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and one of the recruits had been badly burnt, which of course meant lots of paperwork for both her and Harry as heads of their areas.

Then she'd had to go into the Wizengamot with that insufferable man, Mr Tolstark, testifying against her case, which had left her frustrated and exhausted. And to top it all off, she'd had to give an interview to the Daily Prophet - although she had organised it herself, it was only because of necessity and not by choice. Hermione had never quite trusted the Prophet after the incidents in her school years, though she held nothing against the sports section as it was greatly influenced by Ginny.

So as yet another owl flew through her window, it took a huge amount of effort for her not to swear, as she'd just been about to get up and leave. Agitated, she pulled to scroll off the owl's foot and motioned for it to stay - she supposed that she's have to reply to whatever it was. To her surprise, it was a letter from her daughter, Rose. After skimming through quickly, she grinned and penned a speedy reply.

Dear Rose,

The Wizengamot man (I won't mention his name as it's not really important, and I shouldn't really be telling you about him in the first place - Ministry secrets, you know) has unfortunately struck again, but I'm hopeful that I'll get the bill through within the week.

As for your mystery, I suggest that you look at the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning. I know I don't usually approve of the Prophet, but I can't explain it better myself - especially as I do explain it myself in the interview! All will be revealed when you read the article, I'm sure.

I heard that you're out of the hospital wing - I hope you're feeling better, and don't push yourself too hard: we don't want you in there again too soon!

Love,

Mum

Hermione folded up the letter and gave it to the Hogwarts owl, which was still waiting patiently. Well, she thought, as she watched the bird soar away, at least something that she'd done today had been worthwhile.