The next time Rose and Scorpius met in the Room of Requirement, it was three nights later. It wasn't as if they hadn't seen each other – in fact the opposite had happened. They found themselves falling into step next to each other as they walked between classes, and by the second day were sitting together in all of them, much to her cousin' dismay. Albus was used to being able to copy Rose's notes all the time; for the first time in his schooling career he was now being forced to take them down for himself, and was suffering badly from writers' cramp.

Rose and Scorpius talked between classes about the Ravenclaw Quidditch trials ("not too bad, got one Chaser that has potential but needs some training"), about how much they enjoyed Herbology with Professor Longbottom ("I'm not allowed to call him Uncle Neville at school, but really, I adore him"), and argued over whether the treacle tart or pumpkin pies were better for dessert. The conversation flowed easily and endlessly, and there was always a topic of interest for both of them to discuss.

And much as he tried to control himself, Scorpius found himself utterly unable to stop touching her. The first time he'd helped her pick up her bag and slip the strap onto her shoulder, his fingers had brushed her hair and he was startled by how strong the urge was to pull it out its ponytail and run his fingers through it. He touched her hand to get her attention and occasionally took her elbow to help her up from her chair. Demure as always, Rose smiled her thanks at him and continued on as normal. Friends, Scorpius told himself firmly. She just wants to be friends, so get yourself together and stop groping the girl.

And despite Scorpius's futile attempts at stop it, his dreams about her were getting more out of control and he sometimes couldn't look her in the eye in the mornings, knowing what terrible (wonderful, fantastic, sexy) things his dream-self had been doing to fantasy-Rose the night before.

They arrived at the hidden entrance to the Room of Requirement at about the same time, both secretly looking forward to an evening alone together. The wall stayed stubbornly blank. They both stared at it.

"Oh bugger, now what?" asked Scorpius, dismayed.

Rose just grinned at him and dropped her bag. "I've been doing some research," she announced, as she loosened her tie and undid the top button of her shirt. Scorpius swallowed hard and concentrated on looking her dead in the eye. "I don't know why we didn't have to do this the other night, but what we have to do is walk backwards and forwards three times, thinking about what we really want the Room to give us, and the door will open."

Oh no. No, no, no. Merlin, save me. Please don't let a massive bed appear, prayed Scorpius desperately. He tried to clear his mind, and then nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt Rose take his hand.

"Come on, Scorpius," she said, and started marching determinedly down the hallway. And I swear I'll be a good grandson and write to Grandmother Cissy twice a week with no complaints, if no shower stalls, locker rooms or the Prefect's bathroom appear, Scorpius begged silently, mentally listing some of the venues of his most recent fantasy trysts with the girl who currently had his sweating hand tucked into hers.

After their third turn, a roaring of stone was heard and the familiar door appeared again. Scorpius eyed it with trepidation. Rose let go his hand and picked up her bag, smiling smugly. "Told you," she said. "Come on."

She swung the door open and went in, leaving Scorpius to trail in apprehensively behind her.

He heaved a sigh of relief. OK, so no satin-sheeted four-poster or whipped cream and honey in sight, but there were differences. Where there had been two desks facing each other, there was one large one with two chairs pulled up to it. And instead of two armchairs, there was only a sofa. He looked askance at Rose, who was looking perplexed.

"Weird," she muttered, taking it in. "Oh well, it's not as though we don't sit together in class anyway."

She dumped her bag on the right side of the table and took out her Herbology texts, sitting down and starting to shuffle papers. They'd discovered that with her being right-handed, and he left, sitting this way meant more desk space for them both. But to Scorpius' dismay, he found that this table wasn't quite as wide as the ones in the classrooms, and even if he squashed his chair as far over to the edge as he could, his outer thigh was pressed against Rose's.

Relax, just relax, he told himself sternly. Look at her, it's not bugging her at all. Just get on with the homework and stop acting like a horny git.

Oh God, I can feel the heat of his leg against mine, thought Rose desperately as she tried to steady a slight tremble in her hand while writing out notes.

The last few days had been pure torture. Scorpius was completely sweet to her, helping her with her bag and to get out of her chair, and those platonic touches had done nothing less than to set her on fire. She knew he didn't think anything of it though – his expression always remained serene and he didn't seem to be at all distracted during class.

She was, by now, under no illusions that she was harbouring a serious crush on the boy. She was also under no illusions that he felt anything but friendship in return. He had a much warmer, kinder personality than she had given him credit for, and his sudden smiles were making her heart do flip-flops twenty times a day. But he clearly didn't think of her in any way other than a platonic friend, so Rose told herself firmly to stop being so pathetic, get a life and concentrate on the Herbology project in hand. After all, she'd rather have Scorpius as a friend, than go back to the indifference of before.

After a few hours of working, and squirming in delight inside every time Scorpius shifted in his seat and his leg rubbed against hers, Rose threw in the towel.

"OK, I think that's me for the night," she said with a yawn, rolling her shoulders and stretching her back.

"Me too," said Scorpius, tossing his quill on the table. He stood and left the table, going over to the sofa and collapsing on it with a contented sigh. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Come on, Rose," he said reassuringly, patting the seat next to him. "I won't bite."

Rose gulped and made her way shakily over to him, thinking that she'd actually like him to bite very much and wondering where she wanted him to start. He smiled and slung his arm casually across the back of the sofa as she sat down, and she felt gooseflesh break out across her neck where his forearm lightly brushed it. Use your words, Rose, she told herself. You're good at that.

"So, we've been friends for a few days now and I still hardly know anything about you," she said breezily."So let's play a game – we ask each other questions to find out a bit more. OK?"

"OK," said Scorpius, sliding down a bit further into the sofa. "Me first. Favourite colour?"

"Blue. You?"

"Red. Your turn."

For a second, Rose thought he looked at her hair when he said "red", and then berated herself for her general patheticness.

"Favourite food?"

"Roast lamb with mint sauce. Yours?"

"Chicken pie, homemade like Grandma Weasley makes."

"Um – favourite subject?" asked Scorpius.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Rose instantly.

"Me too. I do love a good hex."

Rose laughed, and there was a few second of silence. Scorpius stretched again and extended his legs to an impossible length in front of him.

"What do you want to do when you finish school?" asked Rose, starting to feel nervous for no apparent reason.

"Well, my dad wants me to go into his import-export business, but it's not my thing," yawned Scorpius, rumpling his hair over his eyes. "I'm going for Auror, or Magical Law. You?"

"Um... tossing up between Healer, and trying to get into the Unspeakables. But I'm surprised – you're not keen on professional Quidditch?"

"Nah, I'm not good enough."

"You are good enough!" protested Rose, forgetting herself and turning to sit crosslegged on the couch as she faced him. Mistake, mistake... now both her knees were touching his outer thigh. She leaned back a bit onto the arm of the sofa to get some distance, and then realised belatedly that it made the spaces between the buttons on her shirt gape open. She quickly tugged her shirt flat and tried to look casual. "Albus says you're one of the best at school, and you're the only other Seeker that terrifies him." Oh Merlin. You're starting to act like one of the Gaggle, you idiot.

"Potter said that?" Scorpius glanced at her and then looked quickly away. She thought she saw his usually pale cheeks flush a bit, and attributed it to the compliment. "Well, that's kind of him, considering I've only gotten the Snitch before him a few times in the last five years. He's one hell of a flyer. Anyway, Grandfather would have a breakdown if I went for pro Quidditch. I can just hear him now: 'That's not a suitable job for a Malfoy'." He brightened a bit. "Actually, that would be excellent motivation to do it – it would piss the old bugger off completely."

"What's he like?" Rose asked curiously, leaning forward. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had been conspicuously absent from the public wizarding world for at least ten years, and Draco and Astoria were only seen very rarely.

Scorpius sighed and rumpled his hair up, making it fall sexily over one eye. "I can't stand him," he said frankly. "You'd think his experiences during the War would have wisened him up, but no, he's still a stuck-up old elitist."

"And your parents?"

"My Dad's not the most affectionate father – I think he can't help that, given his upbringing, but he does try. He loves to have a go at Grandfather sometimes – you should hear him. 'Don't forget that it was what you call a half-breed, a mudblood and a blood traitor that saved my life'." Scorpius mimicked his father's aristocratic drawl perfectly. "I love my Mother to bits. Even though she also comes from a pureblood family, she's got no hang-ups about that kind of crap, and we row in the same boat on that one. Magic's magic – doesn't matter where it comes from."

Rose melted. Any boy that would openly admit that he loved his mother had her vote from the get-go.

Scorpius glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Whatever you might have heard, my father doesn't hate your parents or the Potters. He's very clear that it was Harry Potter's sheer bravery that saved us, and we should all be grateful."

Dumbfounded, Rose just stared into the fire. This really wasn't what she expected at all – her Dad had always referred to Draco Malfoy as "the ferret," screwed his nose up in disgust whenever the Malfoy name was mentioned, and been horrified when Gryffindor had lost a match to Ravenclaw the previous year because Albus had "allowed mini-ferret to get the Snitch first".

"What're your parents like? And what's it like having the Harry Potter for an uncle?"

Rose shrugged. "They're just Mum and Dad to me. I was nearly ten before I found out about them – I didn't realise that not everyone has parents who the world seems to know on sight. And Uncle Harry ... well, he's one of the nicest people I know. He's incredibly calm, which is good for Aunty Ginny, because she's a ball of fire, just like Lily."

"So, exactly how many of your horde are at Hogwarts at the moment? I've lost count."

Rose paused to think. "Well, there's Louis – he's in seventh year, Uncle Bill and Aunty Fleur's youngest," she said, counting them off on her fingers. "Victoire and Dominique have already left school. Then there's Molly and Lucy, Uncle Percy's twins – they're in second year. Fred and Roxanne are Uncle George's – fourth year and third year, and then there's me and Hugo, who's also in fourth year. James is in seventh, Albus is with us and Lily is in fourth with Hugo. So that's... oh Merlin, there's ten of us!"

"I thought there were a lot of redheads around," Scorpius said slyly. "It's like an epidemic."

"There's not that many!" Rose protested. "Just me, Lily, Molly, Lucy, Louis, Fred... oh OK, so there are a few. It's a family trait, like the way you look like your father!"

Scorpius stared into the fire, the smile slowly fading from his face. "Yeah, and that's been a bundle of laughs," he said slowly.

Rose looked at him, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

He sighed. "First year, I got the crap beaten out of me by Tony Nott, because I was put into Ravenclaw and not Slytherin. He was a massive sixth year, and he put me in the hospital wing for a week. Second year, Miles Abbott hexed me so hard I was unconscious for two days, just because I look like the picture of my dad in Hogwarts, a History and it gave him the creeps. Third year, the Beaters on the Hufflepuff team caught me practicing alone on the Quidditch pitch and hit every Bludger they had at me. Broke my nose and my cheekbone." He touched a small bump on the bridge of his nose.

"Oh my God, Scorpius – I had no idea!"

"It's OK. That was the last time I got seriously hurt, though, because I got bigger and I can duel pretty well now. I've just kept my head down and avoided as many people as possible, and school will be over soon and I can get the hell out of here and be who I want to be. Not just... a Malfoy."

Rose put a sympathetic hand over his and for a second, he didn't do anything. Then he took it and turned it over, lacing his fingers with hers.

Skin tingling, Rose leaned her chin into her other hand, resting her elbow on her knee. "I know a bit about expectations, though I've had nothing as horrible as that happen to me," she said, gazing into the fire. "Everyone thinks it must be so cool to be a child of one of the Golden Trio, but sometimes it's not that much fun, you know."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that we have to live in an Unplottable home, because of all the crazies that would show up on the doorstep all the time," said Rose. "Like the fact that everywhere we go, and I mean everywhere, there are people taking pictures and wanting autographs. And like the fact that you never know if people just want to be your friend because of who your parents are, not for you."

Scorpius looked at her steadily, stroking a small circle on her hand with his thumb. I don't know if I want him to stop or carry on doing that... it feels brilliant.

"I know that doesn't sound so bad, but you end up not trusting people," said Rose matter-of-factly. "I don't have it as bad as Albus – he looks exactly like Uncle Harry, doesn't he? But I have people expecting me to be as smart as my mother, and as brave as my father, and play Quidditch, and be Head Girl one day and ... sometimes I want to run away from it all and just be me, too."

She couldn't look at him, but she could feel the weight of those blue eyes on her like a laser beam.

"I really like talking to you, Rose," he said unexpectedly. "I've never been able to talk to a girl like I can with you – it's so easy. I wish we'd made friends years ago."

Friends. There it was. Out in the open, and official, and her heart was sinking like a lead balloon with disappointment. Rose disentangled her fingers from Scorpius and stood, with a weak smile. "Yeah, me too," she said softly. "Listen, I'd better head out. Professor Longbottom's on the warpath about curfew these days and I don't have time for detentions right now." She moved over to the desk and started packing her things. Don't let him see you cry, just don't, she told herself firmly. You are a Gryffindor. Be brave.

If she'd risked a look behind her as she left, she would have seen a very confused Scorpius watching her go, a frown on his face.