A/N: It's only been a bit over a month since my last update, which is pretty good time for me. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favorited; you all mean the world to me! I can't see this fic being much longer— perhaps another chapter or two—so the end is near. I hope everyone enjoys, and reviews motivate me to update faster!

(Off topic: did anyone else see The Hunger Games at midnight [or any other time, really]? Wasn't it wonderful? My only real complaint is that it was a bit rushed [which makes me worry about how Mockingjay will be transferred to the bigscreen, as it's a rushed book to begin with…].)

0000

The days got better after that. Though the family was far from putting the whole ordeal behind them and discussing the finer details of Scorpius' decent into depression, things were starting to fall into place. Soon, the boy was sure, his parents would be allowed to take him back to the manor (with a large bottle of Muggle medication, of course).

Rose was getting stronger as well, and that helped Scorpius' mood, seeing as they had become closer during their late night "practices". He didn't have much experience with the matter of friendship, but the Slytherin could feel some sort of strange bond forming, and he wasn't sure if it was friendship or companionship or what.

When the announcement came that Scorpius would be allowed to leave St. Mungo's in two days time, it almost wasn't a surprise. A bit of a disappointment, sure (had he really become so attached to the Weasley girl that he wanted to stay in this stygian place for longer than he had to?), but at least that was a sign that there was a chance that things could go back to how they used to be.

That thought really wasn't a comfort to him, though; how things had been were what caused him to get put in this bloody hospital, so the boy really doubted that the circumstances returning to how they had been previously would help anything. With his luck, he'd just end up back there with new scars.

(Or maybe he'd succeed.)

Scorpius rapidly shook his head to try to rid himself of that particular thought, his light blonde hair flying around his head almost like some sort of strange halo. A small giggle from the other side of the room caught his attention, and the teenager turned to see Rose, who had been asleep just moments before, sitting up in bed with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her freckled cheek was pressing down on her knobby knees, and her sparking blue eyes were dulled, so he could tell that she'd only just awoken.

"What?" he asked with a small smile as he adjusted his body to mirror her position.

"Your hair," she said, mirth clear in her voice. "You looked like some sort of dog that'd just gotten out of the bath."

His eyebrows shot up, slightly mocking the girl in a playful way as he replied, "Oh, so I look like a dog, do I? I better not smell like one, or your family'll definitely be staying away today."

To Scopius' relief, his friend laughed at his shitty joke and was about to make another comment when a nurse entered the room, carrying one of the clipboards that seemed so stereotypical. "So Mr. Malfoy," she started, completely disregarding the boy's earlier request to not be called by his surname, "it says here that you're doing very well. In order to reward you for your behavior, we've decided that it was about time that we gave you this back."

The healer reached into the pocket of her lime green uniform and took out a familiar looking wooden stick (ten inches, oak, dragon heartstring core). "Oh thank Merlin," he sighed, taking the wand from her perfectly manicured fingers. His hand still fit perfectly around he handle, his long digits wrapping around it as if he were greeting an old friend.

Suddenly, images flashed in front of Scorpius' eyes: the dark blue of the loo's tile floors; the coolness of the bathtub against his back; stabbing, searing pain that seemed to come from everywhere; blood, so much blood…

Scorpius blinked, and the vision was gone. The healer hadn't noticed his little journey down memory lane, as she'd been explaining something to him. "—so certain spells have been blocked, just to make sure nothing like this could happen again. After a set number of days, we'll revoke the charm, and you'll be able to use your wand freely once again, though what spells you use will be monitored."

"Of course," Scorpius said politely, even though everyone knew that Death Eaters (and their children) already had their spells monitored by the Ministry, so this was nothing new to him.

The nurse nodded, seeming a bit unsure where to go from there. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy, seeing as it's nearly time for your appointment, I shall escort you."

Scorpius nodded. Getting out of bed, he followed the healer to the door. Before exiting, he shot a smile at Rose, but she didn't look happy. The girl had noticed his minor psychotic episode, he realized, and she looked worried. You okay? she mouthed at him, her blue eyes overflowing with compassion.

Fine, the boy responded silently, and with one more reassuring smile, he left the room.

0000

Rose was not in her bed when he returned from his appointment nearly two hours later. This confused him, as her physical therapy sessions usually weren't until later in the afternoon. Scorpius felt that everything had to be all right though, seeing as she'd taken her wand off of the nightstand and the crutches that she used for moving outside of the hospital room were gone. She'd probably just gone to the garden.

Sighing, he went to sit down on his bed, grabbing Rose's worn copy of Quidditch Through the Ages to leaf through. He sat there for a good half hour before the door handle started to jiggle, and Scorpius could just barley make out Rose cursing from the other side.

She burst into the room, nearly falling, just as Scorpius put down the old book and go up from his position on his bed. "Ms. Weasley, just a moment!" an unfamiliar voice called from the hall, and the exhausted look on Rose's face was all it took for Scorpius to shoot across the room, close the door, and take out his wand to lock it.

Sadly, it seemed that a locking charm was one thing that he could no longer do. Without commenting, Rose took out her wand and did the spell herself, and the door locked with a small snick.

"Thanks," Rose panted, strain evident on her face. Someone pounded on the door, and more footsteps came rushing down the hallway. She glared at the door, and Scorpius took this as a sign to get her away from it.

"Here, come on," he said softly, taking her crutches and laying them against the wall. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Scorpius led his friend to her bed, with her leaning heavily on his side the entire time.

That was not a good sign.

"Is everything all right?" he asked as they sat down on the bed. Rose stayed in the same position, burrowing into his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath, so he kept his arm around her waist, rubbing her side in a way that he hoped was comforting.

"Yeah," she breathed as she pulled them across the bed so they were resting against the wall behind it. "It's just all of these stupid journalists, wanting to get a scoop. The press is in a slow spot, I guess, and all they have to talk about is some stupid celebrity's kid."

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said, at a loss of what to say. Sure, he'd been approached by the press before, but never mobbed by it. Maybe if the news that he'd tried to commit suicide leaked, he'd know what that felt like. "Are you feeling alright? Did they hurt you?"

"No," she said, answering the first question, "I'm fine. Just a bit tired, 's all." Rose's breathing was begging to slow down, but her legs were still trembling tremendously next to his. "And sore. But I've been dealing with them my entire life, so it's not exactly something new to me."

Scorpius clenched and unclenched his teeth, still worried about his friend. "But you're recovering, and something as strenuous as running from rabid journalists has to be bad for you." Rose laughed, albeit a bit tiredly, but he took this as a good sign. "Maybe you shouldn't go to physical therapy today; you're tired."

"I really don't want to," she said, sighing as what little stubbornness that still pressed on her shoulders leaked away. "After that ordeal, I just want to take a nap."

Scorpius smiled at her, and the girl's heart skipped a beat at the indefinable emotion that she spotted in his gaze. "Then go to sleep; I'll be right here."

She did.

An hour later, an angry voice echoed down the hallway. "Oi! What're you lot doing camped outside this bloody door? Get away before I report you to the Ministry for being a public nuisance!"

Not wanting to anger Ron Weasley further, the remaining journalists scampered off, scolded. Before the man could reach for the door, Scorpius grabbed his wand and undid the locking charm, allowing the Weasley clan to enter.

He could tell that Ron was about to say something scathing to him (probably due to the fact that his only daughter was cuddled against the Malfoy's side as she slept), but Scorpius held a slender finger to his lips. "She's exhausted," he said in an undertone. "She got chased around this madhouse by the lot of them, and it took a lot out of her. If I were you, I'd cancel her physical therapy session for today."

That was probably the only time that he'd ever get away with ordering a Weasley around. With a resigned sigh, Ron nodded, and Hermione went to the reception desk to both cancel the appointment, as well as berate the staff for not doing anything about the mob of press that had been camped outside the door.

Scorpius felt like this was a good time to return to his side of the room. He untangled himself from Rose only to have her grab for his hospital robe. With a warm but rueful smile, he unwound her fist from his clothes and allowed it to grasp the sheets instead.

Sitting on his own bed, he grabbed a book and was about to begin to read when Mr. Weasley cleared his throat from across the room. Scorpius' eyes flicked upward to meet the older man's gaze, and he was surprised to see some measure of respect hidden in their depths. "Thanks," he said. "For helping her out."

Showing a small smile, Scorpius turned back to his book. "It's no problem."

0000

Later that night, Scorpius awoke to a light shining in his face. Blinking heavily, he propped himself up on his arm, wiping sleep from his eyes. Then the light was gone, and Rose was speaking. "I'm sorry; I was just looking for my quidditch book."

"Oh," he said eloquently as he reached for said book, which had fallen off his bed and hit the floor on the side hidden from Rose. "Here." He tossed it to her.

She caught it with one hand and put it down on the nightstand. "Thanks."

"It's nothing."

The silence was long and a bit awkward. Finally, Scorpius decided to break it. "Does that sort of thing happen a lot?"

She knew exactly to what he was referring to. "Once in a while," Rose responded, pulling a leg to her chest to prop her chin on. "Only in a huge mass like that five or six times, but the press is everywhere when I go out: Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, even in Muggle London sometimes. I've had them on my back all of my life, so I suppose that I should be sort of used to it by now."

Scorpius couldn't really imagine life like that. Sure, the media watched his family because they were waiting for them to mess up, but it wasn't so constant. It must have been horrible.

"How the hell do you keep it together all the time?" Scorpius questioned, turning for the first time to face the ginger, who was looking at him as if he were saying something unexpected. "I know your family is famous for good things, but it can't be easy having all of that pressure on you to be just as good as your parents. It's not so different from people expecting me to turn into a mass murderer, now that I think about it."

Some sort of choked sound came from her throat, and it took Scorpius a moment to realize that Rose was laughing at him. The boy unintentionally scooted back on his bed, a bit offended, but then she looked at him and he noticed that the thread of despair that he'd become so used to seeing in her expression was completely gone.

She looked so beautiful that Scorpius forgot to be insulted.

"You get it!" she exclaimed, breaking him out of his thoughts (not that any coherent streams of consciousness were flowing through his mind in the first place). "Sweet Merlin, you actually get it!"

Scorpius just blinks, looking at her as if she's gone mad. "What?"

He looked a bit like a wounded puppy, and in her exultation, Rose decided that she didn't want to be half a room away from him anymore. The girl got up and walked shakily over to Scorpius' side of the room before burying him in a hug.

The Slytherin froze up, his body going rigid as she practically fell on top of him. That was as close as Scorpius had gotten to his new friend, besides during their late night practice sessions and earlier that day after getting nearly assaulted by the press. He could feel the slight rise and fall of her chest against his; her breath on his neck; her hair tickling his nose.

And it felt so good that he couldn't help but return the embrace, leaning forward and letting himself be engulfed by the roaring flame that is Rose Weasley. Her hair smelled like apples, he noted, and then he realized that the scent of her red locks is a strange thing to notice while she also has her breasts pressed up against him.

Wait, now they are in the front of his thoughts.

Rose pulled back and grinned at him, her blue eyes squinting in the darkness, and started talking a mile a minute. "Everyone thinks that being the kid of two members of the 'Golden Trio' is so damned easy, and it pisses me off! We're chased down by reporters, we can't go out to dinner without getting asked for twenty autographs, and I can't even fuck up a little bit without bringing shame down upon the family. Oh, and I know that it's harder for you," she backpedals, thinking that she may be offending him. "I mean, my family is famous for saving the world, so I can't imagine what it could be like to be infamous for the converse. Dear God, that must be horrible. But…"

Rose finally stopped to pause for breath, inhaling a large gulp of air. Calming herself a bit, she reached over to take his hands before continuing, "I don't want to pretend that I have any idea what you've been through." Her voice is quieter, more hesitant, and she runs a thumb across Scorpius' wrist, tracing the new scar and making him flinch. The Gryffindor realizes that she's crossed a line and pulls back, confining her touch to just his hands. "I've tried to explain what my life is like to others, but they don't get it. I didn't even have to say anything to you, and you just got it. And that's wonderful!"

The silence was long and loud, echoing through Scorpius' mind as he tried to make sense of Rose's ramble. He watched her as she licked her lips and look down at the sheets, beginning to blush tomato red. Even then she looked stunning: her hair hugged her cheeks as it flowed down the sides of her face, almost hiding her beautiful blue eyes and her straight teeth, which were toying with her lip nervously. She thought that she'd done something wrong, Scorpius knew, and all he wanted to tell her that she'd done something completely, entirely right.

Without stopping to think it through, Scorpius leaned across the gap between her and kissed her.