Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me, so, if there's something you've seen before like, I don't know, the names Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley, then, well, it doesn't belong to me.

A/N: Thanks to: Anti-Banana19 and RAWR1229 for reviewing!

Now, a Memory Refresher!

Previously on Acquaintances:

Scorpius Malfoy, Slytherin, retells everything he knew when he brought in Rose Weasley, Ravenclaw, to Madam Pomfrey, Hogwarts's matron. Before he left, Pomfrey gave him a slip to get him out of trouble if someone caught him in the halls, as it was after curfew.

Chapter 3 (Anger)

Just a few more corridors and he would be able to gather up his belongings–and Weasley's wand and book list–and get to bed to acquire some well-earned sleep. Scorpius made it to the hallway where he was sure he had dropped the stuff in his haste to get to the Hospital Wing, but saw nothing. The ground was bare. In fact, it looked shinier than it had when he had walked by.

Fuck.

To make sure he wasn't in the wrong place, he went back a few hallways from where he had come before he found Rose and still came up with nothing. He groaned, walking up to a wall to lean against. Instead, he ended up sliding down the wall to land on his bum, his face covered by his hands.

Okay, he thought, there must have been some late night wanderers that happened upon the mess and took it. Now, there could have been students or a prefect or professor; hopefully, a prefect or professor. Scorpius rubbed his hands down his face before using the left to reach up and scratch his head. He swallowed and stood, thinking of his next move. Maybe he could start with the nearest classroom that wasn't always empty. Really, the castle was just ridiculously big with more unused classrooms than used. It was his luck, however, that the nearby classroom belonged to Professor Witz.

He stood in front of the Defence Against the Dark Arts door for an awkward moment, the light from the torches giving the entrance an eerie look. He raised his fist in the air and moved as if he was going to tap it, but stopped. Finally, he knocked loudly and firmly. As he waited, he fiddled with his tie and saw that it was still loosened. He quickly tightened it; he had just lost fifteen points for dress code violation, yet he had won ten of them back. Professor Witz would have no mercy with him about this, even if it was twelve in the morning.

While he was pushing his sleeves back down to their correct position and making sure his shirt was tucked into his trousers correctly, the door opened. Scorpius's head snapped up to meet her eyes. Her left eyebrow was raised and she nodded to his waist: his hand was still in the front of his trousers. He could feel his ears heat as he pulled his hand out of the offending position.

"What exactly were you doing, Malfoy? Never mind that, what is it that you need?" Her tone was strict and suspicious with no trace of sleepiness. He wasn't even able to tell if she had her blonde hair in a bun because she was wearing a pink nightcap pulled tightly down to her ears with a matching nightgown. Scorpius instantly pushed his reverie away when Witz crossed her arms rigidly.

"I was wondering if you had seen a clutter in the corridor and cleaned it, or if someone, preferably a prefect or something, came to you with the items." Scorpius tried his best to sound professional and sincere so she wouldn't think this was some type of joke. She was quiet and motionless, staring at her student.

Then, "Why would there be a mess in the hallway?"

Scorpius struggled to explain before reaching into his pocket and fishing out the note Pomfrey had written for him. He held it out expectantly to his professor. She took it and skimmed it with her blue eyes. He kept his light blue eyes on hers for he learned to carry on eye contact with others from his parents. At last she looked up at him.

"No," she said shortly, handing him the note. "Now, if that is all, will you excuse me?" She made to close the door.

"Wait, professor!" The door opened again. "Do you have an idea where my possessions might be?"

"Try Mister Filch's office. Good night."

"Okay, thanks." The spare piece of parchment clasped in his hands, Scorpius began to walk off. He didn't realize she hadn't shut the door until she spoke up.

"Oh, and Mister Malfoy?" The person in question turned to face another elder of his. "You shall be tutoring Miss Holt this Tuesday. Good night." Her voice left no room for argument. The doorway shut with a snap as Scorpius thought about Witz and how she had walked into the meeting with him yelling and the kid practically in tears and why she would want him to do so again.

Damn Third Years.

Damn Witz.

Hurriedly, the Slytherin walked to Filch's office and knocked vociferously. Nothing happened. He knocked again. Still, nothing happened. He tried the door but it was locked. If Filch wasn't in his headquarters, he was certain to be out and about. If he was out and about, then surely he had to come across the wands and Scorpius's things. Now, all he had to do was wait until Filch made his rounds back. Scorpius sat down alongside the door of Filch's office and waited. He sat thinking about how he was positive the caretaker had his stuff and how he was that close to getting to his warm bed and sleeping. Well, now the more and more he contemplated sleeping, the more and more it sounded better. In fact. . .

O.o.O.o.O

Something cold whacked Scorpius's arm and over and over again. He mumbled for it to stop, but it became more insistent. He then took his arm, grabbed the object–a long, thin, and cold stick–and pushed it away. He hoped it would leave him alone now, but, again, it came back and walloped him on his head while something warm and furry jumped on his legs.

"Up, boy! Get up!" A hoarse voice called out. The blond opened his eyes and yawned. His light blue eyes met the pale eyes of the man that had been hitting him with a stick; it was actually the man's cane. Scorpius took in the thin grey hair, the brown coat, the angry expression on the man's old face, and saw a brown sack thrown over his left shoulder, the opening held closed by his right hand. Then he looked at the plump, dust-colored cat with yellow eyes on his lap. Filch and Mrs. Norris. Scorpius promptly stood up causing the older Mrs. Norris to fall and hiss. Filch looked murderous.

"Careful, boy!" he growled. He bent down as much as his old age would allow, petting the cat on her head. He subsequently straightened, went to his door, and unlocked it with an ancient-looking key. Filch went in, left the door open for his sweet cat, but slammed it in Scorpius's face. He could hear some noises which he made out to be Filch fastening some locks. Angrily, the boy looked at his watch when he started to knock on the door.

1:48 a.m.

Shit.

He started banging on the door relentlessly, intermittently giving it a nice kick. A small section in the middle of the door was pushed aside and Scorpius was faced with one of Filch's eyes. Scorpius stopped hitting the door and rubbed his chin.

"Look, Filch," the younger of the two initiated.

"What'cha want?" Filch's raspy voice was annoying Scorpius.

"Well, if you hadn't interrupted me, you would know," Scorpius spat out. No need being polite; it was only Filch. "I wanted to know if I could look in that brown sack you had."

"Why?"

"I left some of my things in one of the hallways, and I know you just came back from doing rounds. One plus one is two, you know."

"No." The square section of the door slid closed.

Scorpius was getting angrier. "Yes, in fact, two is the sum!" Nothing. "Oh, come on! I just need my robes and the two wands!"

"No." Filch probably thought Scorpius was mocking him with the whole 'I can do magic and you can't!' thing.

"Here, read this! Just read this and if you're not satisfied, I'll go." And get Antonio's wand.

The small square opened once more, so Scorpius held out the slip which Filch snatched. He read it and Scorpius waited further. The peep box slid closed, but before the boy could complain, he heard the sound of the locks and the door came open. The caretaker did not look happy as he handed the slip to Scorpius who, without delay, stuck in it his pocket. Using his cane, he pointed to the sack that was off to the side of the door, and hobbled to his desk to sit on his chair. The room was a bit on the small side with four cabinets, two chairs, the desk and its chair, and two doors: one led to a balcony while the other led to, most likely, a wardrobe. The walls were a bare, boring brown, though there were some framed rules behind Filch's head.

"Hurry up!" the office's owner said heatedly.

And hurry Scorpius did.

He rifled through garbage, books, and trinkets, but mostly garbage. He finally came across his robes, rubbish stuck to it. Digging some more, he retrieved his wand, then Rose's. Now all he had to do was find his jumper. But no matter how much he sifted through the junk, he couldn't find it. He then resorted to pouring all the junk out onto the ground.

"Hey, what'cha doing there, boy?" Filch was up on his feet instantaneously.

"I'm looking for my jumper; have you seen it? It's gray and . . . a jumper. "

The old man looked thoughtful, stroking his chin. "I may have seen it." He sat down on his comfy chair again.

Scorpius was getting impatient. "What do you mean you might have seen it? Either you have, or–" He cut off abruptly at the sight of something from the corner of his eyes. Mrs. Norris was lying innocently on a plush blanket. Or, it would have appeared innocent if she hadn't been ripping some object thread from thread. "My jumper!" He crawled over to the cat and tried to pull it from her, but she dug her claws in and no matter how much he pulled, the jumper kept getting looser and looser.

Filch hopped up, came over to Scorpius, and cuffed him on the head multiple times by means of the walking stick. The pain getting excruciating, Scorpius let go of the–his!–jumper. "Hey, this is considered abuse!" he glared up at his elder from the floor.

"Leave my sweet alone! Get out!"

"It's my jumper!"

"Go buy another, then! Get!"

Furiously, Scorpius complied, stalking out of the room with what he could salvage. After exiting through the door, he slammed it and checked the time.

2:15 a.m.

Damn Filch.

A/N: I realized the last chapter was pretty short, so sorry. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter as much as I did! Please review! =D