Chapter 20

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Rose shifted closer to the Doctor, pulling her blanket more tightly around her shoulders. It was freezing cold up on the Astronomy tower, the icy wind diving through all their layers to dig into her skin. She spoke, her teeth chattering. "You sure this is the best spot? Not, say, inside?"

He gave her a tolerant look. "No better place to see the shift of Jupiter, Rose. Come on, check it out."

She leaned forward, closing one eye tightly as she peered into his ramshackle telescope. She let out a soft breath. "Blimey, 's beautiful."

"Yeah. It is." His voice was low and rough and Rose looked up, blushing. He was staring at her, his eyes pitch-black in the shadowy starlight. She swallowed nervously. They were spending more time together than ever, but they hadn't kissed since they were interrupted on the train. She licked her lips absently, a slow warmth flowing through her veins as his eyes darted down to her mouth and stayed there.

He cleared his throat. "You don't… ah… you don't want to miss Europa's descent."

Rose let out a deep sigh, a crystalline cloud that dissipated around her face. She marked the path on her star chart and rolled it up, slipping it into her pack with the others. "That's done, then. Come on, let's go inside."

He frowned, looking hurt. "Don't you want to watch some more?"

"Right now, what I want is to get some hot chocolate from the kitchen and then to head off to bed."

He tugged on the tripod holding up his telescope, shivering in the night wind. "Well, I suppose hot cocoa does sound rather good about now."

"'Course it does." She slung her bag over her shoulder and took his hand, though a pair of warm gloves separated their skin. She pulled open the doorway and jumped, ducking back against his chest. A small globe of light was bobbing drunkenly through the air in front of them, ducking and weaving through the dim light of the stairwell. She frowned and stepped forward, peering around the tiny fairy-light as it staggered around. "What is that?"

The Doctor leaned forward behind her, his breath huffing out in a laugh that played against her skin. "Oh, blimey, Martha told me about that. That's Jeff Llewelyn's work. He was trying to charm them into lights for the dance, but apparently Charms isn't his strong suit. They've been bobbing around the castle for a few days now." He sniffed as they walked down the stairs, and she could picture him wrinkling his nose behind her. "Seems like a lot of fuss for nothing, really."

"Is that so? I was thinking of going."

He paused, and when he spoke his voice was a little strained. "Well. Have fun, then."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyebrows lifted in amusement. "I was actually hoping to go with you."

He stumbled, catching himself on the wall. "Really?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes, really. What, did you think I'd want to go with anyone else?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly popular."

She spun around to face him, blocking the exit of the stairwell. "In case you hadn't noticed, I don't exactly care. Besides, if you've forgotten the train, you should know I don't just go around kissin' anyone."

He chuckled nervously and tugged on his earlobe. "Well, I'd hope not. Plenty of mixed signals, right there."

"Really? Mixed signals like kissing me back and then never mentioning it again?" She paused, and her face fell. "Or do you just not want to think about that?"

His jaw dropped. "Not want to—Rose, do you honestly think I've been able to think of anything else?"

She lifted her chin. "Well, considerin' it's been a month and nothin's happened, yes."

He flushed. "Not because I don't want it to."

"Really? Could've fooled me."

"Rose, that's not it at all. It's just—" He broke off and ran a hand through his hair, collapsing back to sit on the stairs. He stared at his scuffed green trainers and spoke, his voice low. "You already mean so much to me. If we were…" he broke off, staring at his hands. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked up at Rose. "What happens when Koschei decides to go after you then?"

She stepped closer to him, resting her hands on his knees. "We face up to 'im. I'm not interested in living in fear of one miserable little git, an' you shouldn't be either. After all, it's been weeks, an' he hasn't done anything."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Rose. This is just the calm before the storm."

"A squall, maybe. Nothin' you an' I can't handle." She sat next to him, peeling off her gloves to take his hands in hers. "You can't keep lettin' him define you, Doctor. You're more than what he makes of you."

He laughed bitterly. "Oh, no? From the first time we met, he's been obsessed with keeping me under his thumb. The very idea that an orphan with no idea of his background could be in Slytherin offends him, and my beating him in pretty much every test we ever took just makes it worse."

"Then that's his problem, not yours."

The Doctor snorted. "He's made it mine."

"God, are you always this defeatist?" He gave her a confused look, and she rolled her eyes. "You could run rings around 'im when it comes to magic. You don't have to be afraid of him."

"You do."

"No, I don't. 'Cause I can take care of myself, Doctor, and I'm not about to let him get away with doin' whatever he wants to me."

The Doctor bounded to his feet, his hair bristling with angry energy. "You think I let him get away with how he treats me?"

"I know you do."

"Well, you're—" he paused and took in Rose's almost hopeful expression. He frowned. "You want me to be angry?"

Rose let out a shaky breath. "It's better than just acceptin' that he's going to hurt you."

He shook his head quickly. "He almost never hurts me."

"Doctor, you've got to stop worryin' about me. I know how to take care of myself." He snorted, and she stood up and poked him in the chest. "I do."

He scowled. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Rose raised an eyebrow dangerously, and moments later her wand was in her hand. With three quick movements, the Doctor was plastered against the wall, his arms bound to him and his mouth gagged. She crossed her arms, tapping her wand against her shoulders warningly. "I'm almost tempted to leave you there. How Donna puts up with you, I have no idea." He mumbled something in reply, and she cocked her head. "Sorry, didn't catch that. Must've been the gag." His shoulders slumped, and she released him, smirking a little. "What was that?"

"I said, she doesn't. And you didn't need to go that far. That wall was cold."

"That's what you get for thinkin' I need protecting all the time."

He scowled. "Fine, point made. You're a very capable and terrifying witch, and I live in fear of the moments when you turn your anger onto me."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Because sarcasm helps everything. Now come on, let's get some cocoa. I actually have to get up in the morning."

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She stumbled down to breakfast the next Saturday—the morning of the dance. Hermione had five lists hanging in the air in front of her, and she was frowning in concentration. She glanced over at Rose as she sat down, hair a tangled mess and clothes askew. "Thanks for leading me to the music room—that's one thing off the list."

Rose yawned. "Isn't this place supposed to be decorated already?"

The older girl's jaw tightened. "Decorations are Jeffrey's business, despite the fact that he apparently barely scraped by in Charms. I offered to take over for him, but he insisted he could do it." Seven wizards and witches in midnight blue robes entered the Great Hall as she spoke, glancing around themselves with a professional air. Hermione rose. "What on…?"

Jeffrey Llewelyn stood up and walked over to them. He was a slight boy, his Hufflepuff colors clashing dreadfully with his straw-blonde hair. "Ah, good, you're here. Now, this'll be the main site for this evening, so I want you to concentrate on this area—other locations might be nice afterwards, but this is the main work."

Hermione strode over to them, a false smile on her lips. "I'm sorry, could I borrow him a moment?" The leader of the group, a silver-haired witch with caramel-colored skin, nodded dismissively. She dragged him aside, and Rose leaned forward to listen. "What are you doing?"

"Taking care of the decorations, like we agreed. Since I am apparently so utterly lacking in Charms, I decided to go to people who knew what they were doing." He sent her an angry glare at that, and Rose winced for him. Hermione could be a little dismissive when she was upset.

"Yes, but professional decorators? How in Merlin's name do you think Hogwarts is going to pay for this?"

"I don't think it will. Hogwarts isn't paying for them. I contacted Mr. Malfoy, and he's taking care of it."

She stepped back, blanching a little. "Lucius Malfoy sent these people?"

Jeffrey gave her an odd look. "No, he's just paying for them. My mum recommended them."

The doors flew open and Celeste Hopkins stormed in, heading directly over to the Head Boy and Girl. "What do you think you're doing?"

Jeff's shoulders tightened. "I think I'm taking care of my share of the duties for tonight. So if you'd let me get back to my work, Auror Hopkins?"

He left, and she spun to face Hermione. "And I suppose you think giving a troupe of unknown witches and wizards the run of the place is a good idea? We haven't even gotten a chance to give them background checks yet."

"Then go do that. I've got enough on my plate, and before you start yelling at me, I'd suggest you go talk to the Head Boy." Celeste huffed and left, and Hermione sat down with a sigh, poking discontentedly at her cold eggs. "I can't wait until this day is over."

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