Chapter 8

"Welcome back, class. I hope your holidays were good, because mine certainly weren't-" That's Professor Ang for you, always a cheery chappie, "I spent it marking your tests and assignments, and I am not impressed."

He looks around as if expecting everyone to be horribly ashamed of themselves. The class stares bovinely back at him. He continues. "So I have decided to switch up your seats."

I sit up straighter. I quite like my seat next to Melody, even though most of the time all she does is stir the cauldron (in fact that's exactly why I like her as my Potions partner - in case you haven't guessed, I'm a bit of a control freak).

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Professor Ang asks Albus who's just shot his hand up.

"Are we allowed to pick our partners?" he says.

"Yes, but it must be from someone of another House-" A collective groan goes up from the class. "-Oh, don't be ridiculous. Your test scores show me just how much some of you are relying on your partners at the moment. You are all at N.E.W.T. level now and I will not tolerate anyone just cruising."

Then he makes us all stand and choose a partner. A few people move half-heartedly to the other side of the room and bump into someone they kind-of sort-of know and decide to sit together, but most just mill around uselessly. I force myself not to look at Scorpius.

Professor Ang sighs. "Alright, I'll put you into pairs."

And guess who I end up with? Darius Flint. With Scorpius right behind me paired with Sally Hicks. Melody gets moved all the way to the other side of the room with Adele Zabini.

"Now today we will be exploring the subtleties of the brewing of a Tingling Elixir," starts Professor Ang, as if he hasn't just upset the balance of the whole world (okay, dramatic, the whole class). "It will involve teamwork, but I expect you to write your own notes and hand those in at the end of class. Any questions?"

There are none. I think everyone's just pissed off at him.

We get started on retrieving the ingredients from the cupboard at the front of the room. I offer to go get them when Darius doesn't move - he just grunts at me in response. I roll my eyes. This class is quickly turning into my least favourite subject.

Scorpius is gathering ingredients when I join the handful of students choosing the most succulent devil-grapes. We make eye contact, but both quickly look away.

"Save me," Albus hisses at me out of earshot from his partner, Cynthia Earl.

I give him a sly smile. "Good luck."

"How do you shut it up?"

"You can't. Welcome to my world."

I glance over at Cynthia, who looks to be adjusting the front of her robes and pushing up her breasts.

I head back to my desk with an armful of ingredients. When I dump the primary ingredients near the shared cauldron, Darius has already got the water to a boil.

"You're not supposed to boil it yet," I tell him.

"Why? We're brewing an elixir."

I point to step 4 in the textbook. "Here, it says, 'Do not bring to boil until the addition of the peacock feather, lest you damage the thickening activity of the bumberwort."

Darius stares blankly at the page for a bit, then says, "Whatever."

I sigh. "Okay, just turn the heat off. We'll let it cool down a bit. Here, shred some knucklegrass."

I shove some dried knucklegrass at him and he starts tearing it into fine pieces. Too fine. "Don't shred it too much," I point out while chopping the bumberwort roots.

Darius gets a nasty look on his troll-like face. "You do it, then." He throws his hands up and then sits back in his chair, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

I hear Scorpius snort from behind me, but refuse to turn around.

I take over the brewing of our Tingling Elixir while Darius pretends to help, moving some ingredients around the surface of his desk when Professor Ang comes around to check on our progress. I can't help but overhear the conversation behind me as I angrily stir our cauldron counterclockwise.

"These look like gingers," Sally says.

"That's because they're related," says Scorpius. "It's got an essence of ginger, but you can't use ginger in this elixir because it'll thin it out too much, make it too potent."

"That could be a good thing," says Sally.

"Not if you want your legs to fall off." A pause. "I'm only kidding, they won't…"

"Oh, I thought you were being serious. I didn't think they'd let us make anything that dangerous."

"Just sprinkle it in," says Scorpius. "Don't throw the chunks. It'll make it dissolve faster."

"Like this?"

"That's good. Now this one-"

I can't believe how different he sounds. So… gentle. I have to admit, he's a great teacher. He explains every step patiently to Sally, guiding her, making jests, even making her giggle once or twice. Who is this kind soul that has overtaken Scorpius Malfoy's body? I almost want to turn around to check whether it is in fact that same arrogant face these nice words are coming from.

"Here, you do this step," I say, shoving the rest of the mulberry powder at Darius, who is seeing how long he can balance on the back legs of his chair before tipping forwards.

"Fine," he says, then chucks it all into the cauldron.

I clench my jaw and will myself not to say anything. The damage is done - the water turns a deep purple instead of the clear blue it's supposed to be, and clumps of powder sink to the bottom of the cauldron instead of fully dissolving, despite my furious stirring.

"Great. Now it's ruined."

Darius rolls his eyes at me. "Nerd."

"Wanting to pass Potions does not make me a nerd!" I say, louder than I'd intended.

The whole class turns to look at me.

"Indeed," agrees Professor Ang. "Those are wise words that everyone in this class should follow."

My face goes red as people snicker. I hear Cynthia Earl's particularly shrill titter from the far wall, and shoot her a glare. Albus is grinning at Darius.

"Wise words, Weasley," says Darius, nodding sagely. Then he insists on overtaking the stirring of the cauldron (as Professor Ang is looking suspiciously over at us) and, way past caring, I hand over the wooden stirrer.

By the end of the lesson our elixir is a dark, coagulated mess. I casually turn around to stretch and peek into Scorpius and Sally's cauldron; it looks exactly like the description in the text. Scorpius raises his brows at my inspection, and I purse my lips and hurriedly turn around again. I throw my things into my bag (Darius has already wandered away without so much as a grunt goodbye) and scurry out of class.

Potions is now officially my most hated subject.

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Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy.

Patrol: First floor, second floor, third floor.

9pm.

- Thank you.

I groan out loud as I read the note that has flown at me in the form of a paper plane. Great.

"That looks like fun," Melody says mildly when I shove the note in her face to get some sympathy.

We're in the library, catching up on readings that have been piled on us in the space of two days. Well, Melody is doing her Divination homework which basically consists of writing a long list of predictions of imminent death, and drinking a lot of tea.

"This is the fourth time in a row. I'd rather go on patrol with Snot-face Earl than Malfoy."

Melody laughs. "He can't be that bad; there must be a reason Albus is friends with him."

"Albus is friends with Darius Flint. I don't think he's that picky."

"Well, at least it's only an hour."

I still haven't told Melody about the kiss, so she has no idea about the anxiety I'm feeling right now. I'm not sure why I haven't told her yet - after all, I practically acted out the whole scene with Teddy for her. It's like if I keep it a secret, it'll be like it never happened. My dirty little Slytherin secret.

Ugh, that makes it sound so sleazy.

Nine o'clock rolls around too fast, and I find myself standing in the Entrance Hall waiting for him once again. He's always late. Finally I see the top of his blonde head crest the stairs from the dungeons, and then his pointy face all broody and scowly-looking.

"You're late," I say when he approaches me.

"You're observant," he says.

I bite back a sharp response and say, "Well, let's get this over with."

The bored look remains as he follows me to the other side of the hall. Neither of us say a word as we start walking down a dimly lit corridor. I'm walking quickly, but Scorpius easily matches my pace.

"Slow down, we're not running a marathon here."

"Faster we walk, the more ground we cover, the quicker this patrol ends."

Scorpius doesn't reply, and I resist the urge to peek up at his face.

Suddenly he stops walking right after we turn the corner into another corridor. "Weas- Rose."

I turn to face him. He looks pensive, looking at me so intensely my heart skips a beat.

"What, Malfoy?"

Scorpius sighs. "Can we just- start over?"

I blink. "What?"

He pulls a hand through his hair. "Start over. Like stop all this fucking hostility and be civil."

Immediately I feel ashamed at my behaviour, which makes me more annoyed at him (which makes me annoyed that I'm annoyed at him. God, this boy drives me crazy).

"Okay, Malfoy. Let's start over."

Scorpius nods. "First of all, don't call me Malfoy."

The way he says it, I sense there's a deeper reason to that request than just the impersonality of the name, but I don't probe.

"Alright, Scorp," I say.

"Don't call me Scorp."

I give him a grudging smile. "Alright. Scorpius."

Thus begins a rather drama-free patrol. Neither of us mentions 'The Kiss', but the topic is there, like a hippogriff in the room, with both of us refusing to acknowledge it. Or maybe it's just me. Probably.

We chat about rather banal things, like class, and how much the Slytherin Quidditch team is going to win this year (eye-roll), and he laughs at my story on Cynthia Earl and her posse last night when they decided to put on Melody's supposedly 'organic' face-masks (actually Flobberworm excrement) I left out for them to find.

We're going up the marble staircase when I hear someone swear. And it's not Scorpius.

"Who's there?" I say, but my voice just echoes up to no response.

I can't see anyone on the stairs, and yet they sounded so close. We exchange looks, and quietly pad up the stairs, our eyes roaming the empty staircase. Then I see movement out the corner of my eye, a flash of something small near the trick step halfway up. I aim a freezing charm in that general direction then hurry over to it.

I start sweeping my arms around the area like I'm doing an interpretive dance.

"What the hell are you doing?" asks Scorpius.

"I know he's here…" I mutter.

Then the side of my arm hits something in the air. "Ah ha!" I rip off the Invisibility Cloak.

"Dom?"

Dominique stands frozen, one foot sunken into the marble of the trick step. Even in her frozen state she's glaring at me. I unfreeze her.

"Merlin's tits," she exclaims as she pulls her foot out. "Didn't have to jinx me."

After our rather nice little emotional moment over the whole Teddy thing last night, she's gone back to being the brash, bitchy cousin I've known all my life.

"Thought you were James," I say. "What are you doing out?"

She's scantily clad in boxer pyjama bottoms, a singlet, and slippers. I note with alarm that she's not wearing a bra underneath - and it's extremely obvious.

"I just wanted a snack," she says.

"Did James actually let you use that?" I ask her.

"I borrowed it. Don't tell him."

"Bit nippy out, don't you think?" quips Scorpius.

Dominique frowns at him, then cottons on. She folds her arms across her chest. "Pervert."

Scorpius smirks.

"Go back to bed, Dom," I tell her.

"Or what? You'll give me a detention?"

I just glare at her.

She huffs. "Fine. I was going to anyway."

She stalks off, grabbing the Cloak off me.

"Why, Weasley, I think that was a little thing called nepotism."

"No it wasn't, I was being a fair prefect," I grumble. "And I thought we weren't calling each other by our surnames anymore?"

"That was for poetic effect," says Scorpius.

"Right."

We go up the stairs, then continue patrol of the first floor without finding anyone. On our way up to the second floor my stomach grumbles loudly and my hand flies to it in embarrassment, as if to still it.

Scorpius smirks. "Hungry?"

"A little," I say sheepishly.

He inclines his head down the stairs. "Let's go grab something."

I continue a few steps down the corridor, away from him. "No way, we still haven't finished."

"Come on, Rose, who's going to know? O'Callaghan? That oaf of a Head Boy doesn't keep tabs, you know that."

I bite my lip. Breaking the rules always causes me terrible indigestion, there's probably no point in even eating anyway.

"Rose?"

I look down at him; he's already halfway down the stairs. "You coming?"

I mumble something about irresponsibility, but follow him down. We end up in the basement outside the painting of a bowl of fruit. I've been here once before with Albus in first year, when we still hung out quite regularly. Back then I was absolutely terrified of breaking the rules.

Scorpius tickles the pear, and it wriggles and laughs and morphs into a green doorknob. We head inside to the rattle of pots and pans, and the gleam of brassware on the wall to the left. The ceiling is just as huge as I remember, making the few house-elves roaming around seem even smaller.

There's someone standing in the middle of the kitchens talking to a house-elf. His back is to us, and when we approach I hear him say, "C'mon, my gran hand-knitted those. They're worth at least five pastries."

The house-elf looking up at him shakes his head, his large ears flapping. "Two pastries. That's my final offer. Unless you have coins."

"I don't," says the boy glumly. Then he takes the pastries that the house-elf is holding out, turns around, and promptly drops them when he sees us.

"I'd pick those up, they're still good," says Scorpius as the boy gapes at us. "You just traded your gran's five-pastry socks for them."

The boy picks up the pastries. "Please don't give me detention. I was just so hungry… Studying late…"

"Go," says Scorpius.

The boy nods and practically runs out.

"What was that about?" I say when he's gone.

"You've never heard of the trade?"

"The trade?"

"For extra food," Scorpius says as a (male?) house-elf wearing a bright blue bra approaches us. I'm pretty sure that's Dominique's bra.

"What would the good sir and lady like?" asks the house-elf.

"I'm sorry, we don't have anything to trade tonight, Rol," Scorpius says. "But this is my friend Rose Weasley. She's very hungry. Think you can spare some of those pastries?"

Rol (pretty sure he is a he) seems thoughtful, then says, "Any friend of Master Scorpius is a friend of Rol's."

Rol snaps his fingers and three delicious looking savoury pastries materialise on the table in front of us. "Enjoy."

Then Rol adjusts his bra and shambles off deeper into the kitchen.

"So the Free Elves of Hogwarts… have an underground clothes-food trade business?" I say incredulously. That's the most ridiculous yet hilarious thing I've ever heard.

Scorpius grins back at me. "Pretty much. They accept money, too. Our friend Rol there is quite partial to ladies undergarments."

I laugh. "Unbelievable. Does Wiggan know about this?"

Scorpius shrugs. "Dunno. But I'm pretty sure McGonagall did, and she didn't give a shit."

I wolf down one of the pastries. It's delicious. Scorpius watches me in amusement as I start on a second one.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I ask him in between mouthfuls.

"Nah, you look like you need that third one."

"Suit yourself."

We stay in the kitchens long enough for me to finish the third pastry (it doesn't take long) before making our way back to the Entrance Hall.

"Goodnight," Scorpius says as we part ways, him down to the dungeons and me towards the stairs.

"Goodnight," I reply, and smile.

I think I've smiled at him more times tonight than in all the years I've known him combined. As I head off to Gryffindor Tower, there's this weird, bubbly feeling in my chest. Maybe I am getting indigestion.

Happy new year everyone!

Hope you liked this chapter because I certainly enjoyed writing it.

Your thoughts would be much appreciated

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