Rose's Plan

"Right!" Scorpius and Al turned at the sound of Rose's cheery voice; in the last week, the smaller boy had taught everything there was to know about his cousin's moods to his best mate. Presently, Scorpius felt nothing but suspicion. He liked Rose; sure, she annoyed him silly on several occasions, but she was a good friend and had wicked ideas, like the one about the break-in. The cautious side of the boy warned to him; his adventurous Gryffindor side begged it to differ. It was subsequently his recklessness that won out; he wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign. "James gave me something to show you!"

Craning his neck toward the portrait hole curiously, Scorpius watched Rose skip inside. She unrolled what seemed to be a piece of yellowed parchment in front of them and then tapped her wand on its aged surface. Al gaped at it; Scorpius, though, was completely mystified. Had Rose Weasley finally gone bonkers? He was quite certain that trying to get something out of an old parchment was not an entirely sane action. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" the brown-haired girl said, watching the parchment expectantly.

"What are you doing-" Scorpius tried to ask, but Al, surprisingly, shushed him. The short boy gestured to the parchment; reluctantly, Scorpius looked down. His grey eyes widened at what he saw: it was a fully detailed map of Hogwarts! "Where in Merlin's britches did you get this, Rose?"

Rose smirked. "Told you, James gave it to me."

"James got it from Dad," Al explained. He stroked the map with awed reverence. "It'd been enchanted by the Marauders." At Scorpius' blank look, he added, "You don't know about them? Well, they were four friends in school, in Gryffindor, of all places! In fact, they're heroes, here."

"Mm," Scorpius muttered. "Please do continue."

"Their names were James Potter, who was my grandfather; Sirius Black; Peter Pettigrew, who later turned traitor; and Remus Lupin, who's Teddy Lupin's dad," Al paused. "Teddy Lupin is-"

"I know who Teddy is," the blond boy interrupted, surprising his two best friends. Scorpius shrugged at their looks. "He's my Great-Aunt Andromeda's grandson, is what. Since Great-Aunt is Grandmother's sister, she visits each Christmas. Father can't forbid it, because Granddad is technically still the head of our family, and he allows it. It's probably only because of Grandmother, though." He thought for a moment. "He's the one who taught me how to pick locks, Teddy."

"You can pick locks, too?" Al exclaimed, grinning. "Wicked!"

"Yeah, yeah," Rose said irritably, yawning widely. She stretched and stared at them with her grey blue eyes. "We'll have a locker-picker meeting later, mates. For now, we're going to plan." She gestured for Scorpius and Al to look at the Marauders' Map; they did so, following the spot her index finger pointed. "Here are McGonagall's quarters," Rose told them. "Near the Headmis – no, Headmaster's office, see."

"I've been asking round, you know," the girl continued. "Victoire can help us – and I'm pretty sure she'll bring Teddy. They can break curses we can't, and Teddy's an Auror in training, for Merlin's sake."

At the mention of the word Auror, Scorpius' eyes narrowed ever so subtly. He had been raised to despise Aurors, unlike the children of the 'good' side who had been taught that they were heroes, though Teddy clearly went against the standard image of a meddling, good-for-nothing, foolhardy Auror. "Yeah?" he said, raising a blond eyebrow. "And who else?"

Rose sighed dramatically, tilting her head back. "I dunno," she confessed, making Al snicker. Luckily for her cousin, she didn't hear it, and continued speaking. "I was thinking maybe Louis... Easy to convince and gullible, you know-"

Al smirked. "That makes you sound Slytherin."

"Well said, Al," Scorpius agreed, snickering. "Well said."

"Shut up," Rose hissed, her face and neck reddening. She looked at them with obvious annoyance, snapping, "Do you two prats have anything useful to volunteer, besides your incessant verbal abuse of me?"

Al sniffed in mock offense. "Stop exaggerating, m'dear cousin."

"Aye, don't wind yourself up," his blond friend added. Before Rose could hex him, he quickly said, "Er, yeah... Well, Rose, I could ask my cousin. I mean, she's Slytherin, good at keeping secrets and all, but taking count of your prejudice of snakes..."

He trailed off, sneaking a smug look towards her.

Rose crossed her arms. "Cut me the flattering, will you? Merlin, I am not fooled at all – I'm quite sure I'm much more intelligent than that."

"Hey, but my cousin Alcmene could help," Scorpius replied, trying to mollify her. "That wasn't flattery, not at all. I was one hundred percent honest, seriously!"

"Alcmene is good at keeping secrets," Al piped up. He blushed, thinking about Scorpius' pretty cousin. Perhaps in a few years he could ask her out... She was very good-looking, after all, and extremely friendly – unlike some people he could name. "She'd be great in this, er, situation, Rose."

Rose studied the two of them, eyes narrowed, and then turned to Scorpius. "Why don't you go ask her, Scorp? I don't know her all that well, after all..."

The blond boy nodded, a smirk playing on his pale features. "I'll go talk to her tomorrow, maybe during lunchtime." He scratched the back of his head and looked over at Rose, grey eyes mischievous. "That's a yes, mm, Rose?"

She rolled her eyes, though Al, who was watching, detected a flush creeping up on her face yet again. Whether it was from Scorpius or residue colour from her earlier flushing, he couldn't say, but he would definitely question her on that tomorrow. "You are so arrogant, Malfoy."

"We're talking by surnames, now?" Scorpius scratched his chin. "Okay, whatever, Weasley." He flashed her a dashing smile that made her look away, perhaps not consciously on both counts, and flipped open his Potions textbook. "Al," the blond boy said, "You help me with this essay?"

Al was horrid at Potions, everyone knew that. For Scorpius' sake, he decided to play along – and also because he adored annoying his dear cousin. "Sure, mate," Al said, squinting at the looped handwriting of the recently appointed Potions Mistress, Professor Hoffman, indicating the subject of the essay. "But say, Scorp, what are the magical properties of Flobberworm Mucus in a Boil-Cure Potion?"

"In conclusion," Al cleared his throat and squinted at the cue card, "In conclusion, er... Yeah, in conclusion, even though a Mandrake's life cycle parallels that of a human being, they still remain, and will always... stay... dangerous."

He shot a begging look towards Mario Fortescue, the Hufflepuff he was paired up with, who finished with, "Thank you for listening to our presentation!"

There was a half-hearted applause from the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in the audience. Most of them weren't even listening, actually – Al spied Patricia reading Witch Weekly behind the Herbology textbook, Louis and Darcy playing Hangman, Rose with her head on her desk, Scorpius and Caroline staring at the ceiling blankly, the Jordan twins tossing a Snitch to each other and Luke... was he asleep with drool at the corner of his mouth?

Neville, on the other hand, was busily taking notes of their presentation while dictating to another quill what to scribble at the same time. That certainly took skills, Al thought in passing, as the Professor motioned for the two boys to come over to his place at the end of the room.

"Good job, boys," Neville said pleasantly, nodding to each of them. Mario nodded in return and then shuffled back to the desk he shared with his fellow Hufflepuff, Mimosa Blishwick. Al lingered for a while longer.

"When are we going to get our marks, N – Professor?" he inquired, trying to sound casual. He winced at how absurdly Rose-like this was.

The Head of Gryffindor looked up from his grading papers and smiled, his brown eyes warm. "Well, I'm definitely busier than before because of the Headmaster duties and all, Albus," Neville always called him 'Albus' during classes and on school grounds, "but you and Rose and Mr Malfoy can be sure that you'll receive them back next week." Looking towards the front, he called, "Silence, please! Mr Bagman and Miss Macmillan, you're next. I would ask you to bring your grading grids to me, if you please."

Al meandered back to his desk and twisted round to look at Scorpius and Caroline. "How was my presentation?"

Scorpius coughed lightly, wincing slightly. "Er, it was... quite fine, Al."

"I think you could have practiced a wee bit more," Caroline added in her sweet, soft voice, "but your content was all there, I think."

Al winced, shot a scowl towards Scorpius, and smiled gratefully at the Chinese girl. "Thanks, Caroline. It's nice to know that some people have kind words for me, still."

"Hey," Scorpius protested meekly, rolling his eyes, "I had nothing but kind words for you, Al. You know that you're my best mate, git."

"There goes your verbal abuse again," Al muttered.

"That was Rose's line," the blond boy said snidely. He motioned towards the front with a jut of his chin, his smugness evaporated. "Shut up, Al, if you don't want Longbottom to have your hide." Scorpius stared out of the window, gripping his quill tightly with his long fingers. "Though he would never do that to you," he muttered under his breath, though Al wasn't entirely sure if that was what he'd said.

Suffering through another few rounds of torturous presentations, Al grabbed his bag as soon as the bell rang, running for the door. "Wait!" called Rose's bossy voice.

"What?" Al said irritably, looking at her with a cocked eyebrow. "What'd you want?"

"I just thought of something." She dragged him over to a broom closet, pushed him roughly inside, and closed the door. "Lumos."

"Er, Rose, in case you didn't know," Al started, looking uncomfortable, "if you want to snog me, it'd be technically kind of incest."

Rose threw up her hands. "You, Albus Potter, are hopeless! Bloody hell, I don't know which one of you is worse – you, or Scorpius! Seriously, what is it with blokes and their blatant idiocy..."

Quite relieved that his cousin wasn't attracted to him in that way, Al interrupted her rambling, "I don't think you rudely dragged me into a broom closet just to have your standard rant on the uselessness of the male gender, Rose. What is it?"

She sighed, sounding like a martyr, which was quite far-fetched in Al's opinion. Rose Weasley could never be a martyr, really. Digging the Marauders' Map from her bookbag, she started, "You know Scorpius?"

"Yeah?" How could I not? He's been our best mate for what – three weeks? Seriously, Rose! You call blokes idiots – then what are you, living under a rock?

"Well, he's pretty good at drawing." Rose sighed, though Al could have sworn that it sounded like the swooning sounds the women in Witching Hour on the WWN, a programme he had grown up listening to thanks to Mum and Grandmum Weasley. "I think it's best if we separate in two groups for the break-in. That's why I want Scorpius to draw the path to McGonagall's quarters. Can you tell him?"

"Okay." Al studied her and smirked. "But why can't you? You fancy him?"

Rose reddened. "I do not fancy him!" she snapped, slapping his face.

Bloody hell, that'll leave a mark, Al winced. "Whoa, calm down, Rosie," the black-haired boy said, holding up his hands in front of his chest. He grinned. "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

Her wand poked his cheek as she glared at him. "You'd better not, Albus Severus Potter."

Al grinned at her again and kicked open the door. "I don't want to be late for History of Magic, m'dear cousin."

He broke into a sprint, humming 'Do the Hippogriff' under his breath. Al smiled; he was going to have fun. Of course, obviously he wouldn't keep his promise to Rose.

Perhaps his parents had been right, naming him for a Slytherin – because everyone knew that Slytherins were nothing but hypocrites.

"Give this to Scorpius – you know where to find him, Cato." A pale, long-fingered hand stroked the top of the hawk's brown-feathered head. Cato gave a fierce, screaming cry at that, his eyes half-closed. "If you come back with his reply, you know what you will receive. Now, go, Cato."

The figure watched the red-tailed hawk fly away and sighed, shifting in her spot at the windowsill. "Hopefully, little brother," she muttered, "your Gryffindor brain will be intelligent enough to process the content of my letter."

An accented voice from the doorway sounded at the moment. "Am I interrupting anything?"

She shook her head. "No, I was just sending a letter to my younger brother." Her gaze diverted to the window; Cato had already disappeared. Her little red-tailed hawk was a fast flyer, as she had discovered when she had bought him nearly eight years ago in Diagon Alley before her first year. Smiling slightly, she turned back to the other. "Have you heard from Nico yet?"

"Yeah." It sounded as if the red-haired woman facing her was speaking with her tongue twisted, in a sort – those Americans certainly had strange accents, Cato's owner mused. The American grimaced. "Nico's pretty pissed off. I think he's going to cool down at home for a few days-"

"Sulk, you mean?" The Brit sounded bored. "Men do tend to do that often, don't they? Quite bizarre, if you ask me..."

"-And then, he's going to come and get me, I guess." She smirked slightly at the thought of her boyfriend marching into the base and dragging her back home to New York. "Percy still hasn't been found."

"Perhaps he went back to his Roman friends?" The other suggested, lifting a blond eyebrow. Her new acquaintance – maybe even friend – had told her all about their adventures in America, adventures that she had heard of in the form of rumours through Max's friends at the base. It was a wholly different thing hearing the story from a person who had actually been there; like listening to war stories of Granddad's, actually.

"Maybe." The red-haired woman shrugged, sounding sceptical. "Annabeth and the kids are frantic. I, though, have a hunch that he's okay."

"Mm." So I'll be able to keep some of my powers even after the Oracle's spirit is removed from my body. That's an interesting thought. "I don't think he'll play a part in the prophecy."

"Only the three will."

"No," the younger woman shook her head. "You know, in Harry Potter's prophecy – highly respected mortal in the wizarding world, you might've heard of him from someone over here – there were many implicated who were not mentioned. I was saying that I don't think that Percy will play a role in all of that."

"But Nico and I will."

"'Course. And a bunch of dead people, too, as well as a few individuals we know quite well, you and me." She smiled tightly. "That's hardly a cheerful topic, though. We'll face it when the time comes, Rachel. Until then, it's useless worrying."

"Hmph." Rachel the American stood up. "How about we have a snack in the cafeteria? Max will be there, I think, Megara."

Megara nodded. "Okay. Then, we can go speak with Snape's portrait in Max's office."

The two young women hurried out of the door, their chatter mixing with that of the hundreds of campers getting ready for bed.

Finally, after all this time, there's more of the trio :)

The QAS: Thanks for reviewing! Hope your question about Rachel's non-maidenhood was answered in this chapter :) As for Lucius and Narcissa, I've been shipping and writing them for a long time now, so thank you :) And Athena and Lupa... Well, they'll appear again in a few chapters... Athena, at least.

Next chapter: Some Victoire/Teddy, arguing cousins, and a pessimistic!Al. In which they will make their way towards McGonagall's quarters.

Please read and review, especially if you favourited/alerted! :)