Chapter Three

They didn't begin their investigation for a few days, giving themselves time to get over what had happened and to stew over ideas. Rose was not having a particularly good day regarding the second pursuit, unless one counted stewing over the completely random and questionable idea she had had the day everyone else found out what had been done to Ella Rhees. What the hell had possessed her? She was now consigning herself to spending an indefinite amount of time around Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. It was true that two heads were better than one, and she probably couldn't count on, well, any of her cousins to exhibit the discretion something like this required, but seriously? Couldn't she have picked anyone else to impulsively recruit?

Well, the thing was, he was there, said her brain, trying to defend itself. She sighed, fingers absently enmeshed in the fringes hanging from the canopy above her bed. Her friends and roommates had gone out, no doubt basking in the sunshine on the Quidditch Pitch or by the lake, and she was grateful for the quiet she received as a result.

She sat up, sighing. Well, what was done was done, even if it would probably turn out to be extremely ill advised. She ought to start thinking about how exactly to go about this investigation. She bit her lip. She really had only the vaguest idea about how something like this would go. Hesitantly, she reached over to her bag and got out a piece of parchment and a quill. She wrote the words "People to Interview" across the top, and then below it "Ella Rhees." After a little while, she added Bella Zabini and Evan Finnigan to the list. That would be awkward, but it was possible that they'd seen her, if they hadn't come down the hall from the stairs as Rose and Scorpius had. But if they had, why the bloody hell hadn't they come for help? Bella Zabini might be a Slytherin, but no one was quite that selfish or cruel. Although it was possible that if she'd seen Ella, she didn't want to report it because she was afraid she'd be blamed… but then there was Evan. Evan was a Gryffindor—and he might have been afraid of getting in trouble for being out of his dorm after curfew, but surely the fact that Ella was hurt mattered more. And then there was the Dark Mark…

Rose rubbed her temples. This investigation was hard work, and she hadn't even started the interviews yet. She looked at her list again. Three people. Well, it was a start, wasn't it? She couldn't put more names on the list without more information. Sure, she might suspect such a violent act of, say, Greg Goyle II, but then she was getting into questionable territory and being just as discriminatory as McGonagall had been last night.

Scorpius had said he could guess—but his guesses would be only slightly more reliable than hers. She would only ask him about it if the interviews with the other three drew a blank. Which she mostly doubted, at least in Ella's case.

She leaned against the headboard. Who the fuck would want to relive the terror of Voldemort in any way? It was just after his style, sure enough, although the perpetrators so far seemed not to be as skilled in magic as the Dark Lord. Poor Ella was Muggleborn, and very insecure about the fact, which made the crime doubly sick and cruel.

She looked at the time. It was about ten o' clock, and Rose realized that she was going to go stir crazy and probably wouldn't get anywhere with this if she didn't go out, so she tugged on a solid blue fitted t-shirt, jeans, and trainers, tapping her wand at her hair and practically running outside. Once she was in the open air, she closed her eyes and happily sucked in a breath.

"Ah, if it isn't Shirley Holmes."

Rose smirked and without opening her eyes extended her middle finger.

Scorpius chuckled. "So have you thought about our little project? It's been three days."

She opened her eyes. Scorpius stood in front of her in a black sweater and dark jeans. His pale hair was in his eyes. Rose decided he'd done that on purpose. She sighed. "As it happens, dear Watson, I have," she said with a small smile, "and I haven't gotten too far. I think we definitely need to talk to Ella, and probably Bella and Evan as well, just in case."

Scorpius frowned. "But if they saw her and didn't do anything…"

"I know. It's disturbing, especially considering Evan's in my House, but still."

"And if they didn't see her, they're useless."

Rose quirked an eyebrow. "Interestingly worded." Scorpius smirked. "And you said you could make guesses, but I figure we should leave that until we're desperate."

Scorpius nodded shortly. "Right." He bit his lip. "Er, well—those guesses that I mentioned—their accuracy may have gone up a bit."

"What happened?" Rose said before the sentence was even fully out of his mouth.

He quirked an amused pale brow, then said, "Eager, aren't we? But not here, dear lioness. There are eyes and ears around every corner at this school." He scoffed gently, his gray eyes suddenly soft. "Bloody gossip-mongers." He sighed. "Anyway, I think we ought to talk in the Room of Requirement or the Library. Library's a bit more public, but if all else fails, we can tell people we're going out." He flashed her a salacious grin.

"Fuck off, Malfoy! Can you please be serious?" Rose growled. Finally she was getting somewhere, getting to think that maybe this whole working-with-Malfoy thing was a good idea, and then there he went bloody grinning at her and making comments as though she were some common slut he could just…

"Can you calm your righteous fire? It was just a bit of a joke." His eyes flashed in that particular way they had, his face contorted in annoyance. The expression was familiar to Rose; he always seemed to wear it around her.

She sighed deeply. "I—I might have overreacted a bit there. But seriously, we are not telling anyone that we are involved in any way." She folded her arms protectively over her chest. "And I'm not your dear bloody anything."

He looked highly amused, the expressive eyes bright, and he said, "Why, certainly. Rude of me to presume." He coughed a cough that was clearly a laugh and continued, "So—to the Room of Requirement?"

Rose gave a shallow sigh. "Lead the way, Malfoy." She felt a twinge of regret, as she would have liked to spend time outside, but then she thought of Ella Rhees and how she'd just been bleeding and bleeding… This was more important.

Rose realized that Scorpius had said something. "Oh—what was that, Malfoy?"

"I think we ought to be on a first-name basis, since we're working together and all." He said the words in such a blasé, flippant way, but there was something dissonant behind them that belied the falsity of his tone.

"Er—fine." She hesitated, then added in a stilted voice, "Scorpius."

He laughed. "Glad you agree, Rose."

It was so unfair that he obviously felt at ease using her first name when she felt so strange about using his. Even worse, her traitorous name slid attractively off of his cultured tongue, sounding as if it belonged there. Well, it clearly did not.

"Take a deep breath, Rose, it'll do you good."

No, her name really didn't belong on Scorpius Malfoy's tongue, especially when it dripped with sarcasm thick and viscous as treacle. "I'll breathe when I so wish, Scorpius," she said breezily, only giving his name the slightest mocking slant.

"You would, you entitled little Gryffindor." But there was quiet amusement in his voice instead of the usual acridity. She had to laugh a little too.

They stepped into the Room of Requirement, which looked the same as it had when she had asked Scorpius to help her with this case. Rose smirked slightly as they took their seats. Case. Makes it sound so official. I guess I am Shirley Holmes now.

"So." Rose leaned back in her chair, stretching. "The accuracy of your guesses?"

Scorpius sighed. "Yes." His eyes flicked up to hers. "And I can confide in you without fear of losing my badge?"

Rose quirked an eyebrow. "My cousin lent you the Cloak, didn't he?"

Scorpius's eyes sparked. "Perhaps. In any case, I had been-"

"Sneaking about," Rose supplied, and Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"If you so wish. I was walking down the hall by the Ravenclaw dorms."

"You're not seriously about to say what I think you're about to say, are you?" Rose asked tersely.

"I recognized one voice saying something rather incriminating, yes."

"If you say—"

"If you continue to interrupt me, Rose, I will not deign to tell you at all." He grinned at her as she snapped her mouth shut and sat straighter, but it was a shadow of a grin, and Rose's chest grew a bit tight. If Scorpius Malfoy is upset, this must be bad.

"So the voice that I recognized was praising the impromptu Dark Mark as a masterstroke, and it was indubitably the voice of one Annabeth Winston."

Rose sat there, blinking furiously. "That—that can't be right. The Head Girl? There has to be some explanation—"

"Well... there is." Scorpius sighed, seeing her expression. "I can't help what I heard, Rose. I'm sorry."

"We—I want to check this out. Annabeth fucking Winston? The pinnacle of Hufflepuff innocence?"

Scorpius was looking at the table, gray eyes suddenly disturbingly dead. Rose leaned forward, about to ask what was wrong, when he said, "I will swear under Veritaserum, dammit. I swear now on whatever semblance of honor my family possesses that I heard Annabeth fucking Winston, as you say, talking about how the Dark Mark was, and I quote, a masterstroke. Okay?"

Rose sat in openmouthed shock for a minute, then grabbed his hand to get his attention. "Malfoy. Malfoy. Scorpius! Look at me now." He did so at last with baleful eyes, and Rose realized she was right. "Bloody fucking hell, but you're sensitive. I never implied nor intended to imply that I didn't trust you, all right? Fuck. It's just, I've known Annabeth since I started here, and she seems exactly—well, exactly what she seems. Hugging kittens and all that. I can't believe she would—but not because it was you that told me, okay?"

Scorpius gave a weak laugh. "You thought I got upset over that? Get over yourself, Rose." She noticed that he had still used her first name, though he was being sarcastic. She also noticed that she was still holding his hand, and carefully extricated her own from it, thinking, When did I get so physical?

He sighed. "I—what should we do about Annabeth?"

Rose sighed too. She thought for a moment. "I don't want to confront her. That's terrifying on so many levels." Scorpius nodded slightly, watching her curiously. "But I do think," she said carefully, meeting his gaze, "that we should make good use of my cousin's cloak tonight."

Scorpius smiled briefly. "I heard her around one in the morning, or just before."

Rose nodded. "But we'll meet at midnight."

He grinned, putting a hand to his forehead and miming a swoon. "Till then, my love!"

"Shut up." Then she added slightly bashfully, knowing her reaction may have been a bit over the top, "See you."

That smirk again. "Or," he said, "as the case may be—not."