A/N: So I'm back from my vacation. Thanks to all of you who are reading this, and I really do appreciate your reviews. You're all great, really.

Oh, and to answer chewing-gum-addicted's concern, I'm pretty sure our Rosie's a whiz at Transfiguration, just as she is at everything else of course. I just never found the time to slot that fact in yet. Maybe it'll be included later? Who knows...

Anyways, get ready for a bit of dialogue.

Desperation

The weekend after the Halloween Ball seemed like it was never going to end. Rose's bad mood dragged the time, making minutes seem like hours. She thought that time away from classes (particularly the classes she had with Scorpius) and everything else school-related would ease her mind a bit but she was proved wrong. Albus, her friends, her siblings, and her other cousins were all very concerned for her, but they knew the could not do anything to help since she would just push them away anyways. She spent most of her days avoiding the world under the beech tree by the lake, distracting herself with homework or a good book. At night she refused to talk to anybody, even Carleigh Brown, Lisa Longbottom, and Lusha Patil, whom she shared a dormitory with. She never wanted to talk about what happened that night; only Albus knew exactly what went on since he walked out of the Great Hall ten minutes after she did (he originally had a craving for some candy and was looking for Hugo, since he reportedly had a huge stash in his jacket pocket that night) and caught her crying on the floor with Holden Zabini looming over her with his arms crossed, a stoic expression on his chiseled features. The green eyed, black haired Gryffindor would always watch her from afar as she did her homework alone under the beech tree, or when she was sitting by herself in the common room, staring mournfully into the fire.

Albus Potter decided that he had had it with his best friend/cousin's behaviour. On the Sunday afternoon after the Halloween Ball he marched straight up to the beech tree, his head held up high and his hands clenched into tight fists. Rose was sitting by herself as usual, doodling on a scrap piece of parchment. A small pile of books lay by her side; she had just finished this weekend's homework.

"Rose?" Albus asked, and he was met with the darkest shade of blue he had ever seen in his entire life. Rose blinked at him slowly, as if she did not recognize him.

"Oh, hello Al. What brings you here?" She asked in a faraway, dreamy tone. He frowned; she sounded a lot like his and her parents' good friend, Luna Scamander.

"Cut that out, will you?" He muttered, and sat cross-legged in front of her. She continued to stare at him as if he were an interesting television program. "You've been acting like you were hit in the head with a Bludger for nearly two days now. You know what happened that night wasn't your-"

"It was my fault, Al. Why can't you see that?" Rose's voice was now unnaturally high pitched; her eyes were quivering with tears. "I instigated all of this, I mentioned the fact that his father was-was-" And she broke down in hysterical sobs. Albus sighed and leaned forward to catch his cousin in a tight, comforting hug. He rubbed the small of her back in slow circular motions.

"All this time I had been accusing him for being such a prat-which he is, really-but it's not really his fault for being one! His father, it's his father's fault! Not his! That's why he hates it when people compare him to his father and grandfather, or when they make reference to his family! He wants to be different from them, Albus, but people have been against him ever since the day he was born. He was never given a chance…" Rose pulled away from him and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Albus took out his wand and conjured a hankie. She accepted it with a watery "Thanks." and dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

"So you're saying that all of these years he's been a git to our family, it's not really his fault?" Albus asked, confused. Rose sniffled and nodded.

"Y-yes, basically. Ever since Scorpius came into existence people have been assuming against him. Do you know when he was born?"

Albus scratched his chin with the tip of his wand.

"Erm, why on earth would I need to know that? Unless it's a secret password for something really important-"

"He was born on October 31st, Albus. Halloween..." She started, and eyed him carefully, as if she was expecting him to continue. Albus shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, so you fought with him on his birthday. So what?"

Rose smacked her forehead with her palm.

"Good God, Albus, out of all people you should know this! October 31st is also the anniversary of your grandparents'...you know." She answered her own question in an exasperated tone. Albus' jaw dropped.

"Seriously? Wow, I think I've learned something new today. What does it have to do with everyone being against Malfoy though?" He asked, and Rose sighed.

"Think about it. Who did Scorpius' father and grandfather support during the war?"

"Voldemort-weren't Draco and Lucius Malfoy Death Eaters?"

"Mmhmm. If you paid any attention during History of Magic, after Voldemort's defeat a lot of his followers believed that he didn't truly die and that he was going to come back again, just in another form. So when Scorpius was born on the anniversary of James and Lily Potters' murder-"

"They assumed that he was Voldemort in Malfoy form?"

Rose nodded, relieved that Albus was finally catching on.

"Exactly. They probably thought he was his reincarnation or something. Ridiculous, isn't it? So not only did Draco and Malfoy raise Scorpius to become a Muggle-born hating, snobbish-"

"Fat headed, idiotic, foulmouthed-"

"Thanks, Al. Anyways, basically Draco and Lucius weren't the only ones who created this stereotype for Scorpius. Former Death Eaters who anticipated Voldemort's return held him in high regard as well. This obviously would stir up some controversy with the public, and it would lead to automatic shunning."

Albus plucked a Sugar Quill from his bag and began to suck on it. Rose eyed him questionably.

"Didn't have my dessert after lunch-Hugo practically inhaled all of the pies. So all of this Death Eater stuff probably got into Malfoy's head and that explains his dratty behaviour. Did you want one?"

Rose shook her head and Albus continued sucking on his Sugar Quill.

"Draco probably told him about my mother's parentage, and who doesn't know about my father and how he's known as your dad's sidekick-"

"Hey, he's not a sidekick. You've heard their Auror stories; your dad saved my dad's arse loads of times!"

"Well a lot of people don't know that, do they? Anyways, a child is willing to believe anything their parents tell them, so Scorpius obviously took after his father's views when he started school."

"You really thought about this, haven't you Rosie?" Albus was making puckering noises from the Sugar Quill as he talked; Rose shook her head in disgust.

"As he grew older though, he probably became disillusioned with his Draco's point of view and decided that being hateful towards everything wasn't going to get him anywhere, which is the truth really." She continued, ignoring Albus' last comment. "That's why he doesn't bully me as much as he used to, though he doesn't back out when the opportunity arises."

"So what you're saying is that Malfoy grew up...a bit." Albus said. Rose nodded.

"Yes, basically. He wants to differ from his father and grandfather but it's quite difficult when the world has been turned against you since the day you were born." Her voice began to falter and Albus thought she was going to break down in tears again. "I feel so juvenile for not realizing this earlier."

Albus frowned and patted his cousin's back, not completely sure what to say. He still had different views on the Malfoy family despite what Rose was saying, though he understood her point. His parents always warned him and his siblings to steer clear of the snooty looking pureblood family, and his father would always break out into rants on how pompous and narrow-minded Draco Malfoy was. He assumed that his son would be no different.

Draco's young daughter, Lyra Malfoy, did not seem so bad though; he ran into her one time on his way to class and she did not give him the trademark Malfoy glare; instead her eyes widened (probably astonished at the fact that she ran into The Boy Who Lived's lookalike son) and mumbled a shy apology before shuffling away. He finished up his Sugar Quill and turned to look at Rose. She was sniffling again and her eyes were slowly reddening. He wondered where the hankie went.

"I don't think you should put the blame on yourself, Rosie. Our parents have been putting us off on how bad the Malfoys were since we can remember, and it's not like we're the only ones who've been...erm-brainwashed by our parents. Most of the school population's probably against their family too." Albus reassured, and his shoulders relaxed when a small smile tugged at the corners of his cousin's lips. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and began stuffing her books into her bag.

"I know, but still, the way he was yelling...you could tell he's getting tired of all of this. It's prejudice, I'm telling you. I know Scorpius is somewhat of an improvement on his father, even though he's only started improving recently. I think we should give him a chance to prove himself." She said. Albus' green orbs widened.

"Give him a chance? You're really stretching it, Rosie. You want me to become friends with him? I'd rather-"

"You don't have to go that far, Al. When I say give him a chance, I mean don't think he's just a typical snobbish egotistical Malfoy who shuns Muggle borns and-" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Blood traitors. And don't compare him to his family anymore. He doesn't like it."

Albus' shoulders sagged; Rose stood up with her bag over her shoulder and eyed the school in the distance. He followed suit.

"Yes, mum. Anything else?" He asked dully, and her sapphire irises narrowed.

"Oh, shut up. I just want to be nice." She pressed on. They began to walk towards the school. Albus could not help but smile to himself; he had a feeling there was another reason behind this, but she was not even aware of it herself.

"Didn't you say you were going to meet up with him one last time tomorrow night for that Potions assignment?"

Rose's smile faded at the mention of this; she was not ready to face him just yet. She did not even know if he was going to show up tomorrow, after what happened.

"Well, I have no choice really, since it's due the day after tomorrow. We don't have much to do though, just a few stirring and we're just about finished. The potion's mature enough." She eyed Albus wearily, who seemed to be trying to avoid her gaze. "What about your potion? Is it okay for Tuesday?"

Albus tugged at his tie and laughed nervously.

"Erm, well I think so...y'see, after I ditched Mina for Lisa, she hasn't really been talking to me…"

Rose's eyes widened in horror; Albus groaned, knowing this was going to come.

"Albus Severus Potter, do you realize when this is due? You can't let personal problems get in the way of your academics-"

He held his hands in front of her, motioning for her to stop the lecture.

"Yes, I know, I know, but believe me, I've been trying to get a hold of her for days now, but she just won't speak to me!" He then raised his head a little, looking a little proud of himself. "Besides, I've been sort of working on the potion myself. It's kind of easy, really."

Rose raised a questionable eyebrow. Albus was probably the worst Potions student in their year. In almost every potion they had to make, he either broke something, lost one of the ingredients (he once accidentally digested Hippogriff innards; she had no idea how he managed to do that), caused something to explode (or in some cases, implode), or simply just ruined the potion altogether. Sometimes she was kind of glad they did not have to pick partners in some assignments.

"I hope what you're saying is true." She said with a wry smile; he looked at her miserably.

"You really don't have much faith in me, don't you?" He muttered as they entered the school; they were welcomed with a rush of warm air. Rose threw her head back and laughed.

"Not in Potions." She said with a wink as they made their way towards Gryffindor Tower.

--

It was Monday evening, 7:30 p.m.

Scorpius Malfoy emerged from the depths of the Slytherin common room, looking as if he just had the worst day of his life. His mind was still reeling from the Halloween Ball, obviously. Nobody bothered to question him; Tatia Schultz was even wise enough to stray away for the time being. He spent most of his weekend holed up in the common room lounge, staring fiercely into the fireplace for hours at a time; Porter Parkinson once stood by his side for thirty minutes and he did not seem to notice. It was only until he shouted "Hey, Zabini! He hasn't blinked for ten minutes!" that Scorpius turned to give him a poisonous glare, silently telling Porter to go away. At night he did not speak to any of his dorm mates; today during class he was quiet and he did not even bother to raise his hand to answer any questions like he usually did. His temper worsened when he noticed that for some of his classes, he felt a pair of eyes on his back. It was not so much that somebody was staring at him that got him aggravated; it was the fact that he knew that those eyes were probably the darkest blue of blues, the kind that made you feel like you were drowning whenever you looked into them…

He found himself staring at the door to the prefects' common room. He had no idea how he got here, or why he even bothered coming in the first place. All they had to do was stir the damn thing, and that was a one-person job. Why could not she do it on her own? Was she that mentally incapable?

Sighing, he turned the doorknob and pushed on the shiny wood surface. She was sitting at the usual table with the bubbling cauldron in the centre. It looked like any other night they got together to work on the assignment, except for the fact that she looked like she was expecting to see Lord Voldemort drifting through the door instead of him. She looked nervous and her hands were slightly shaking; he could even see it from where he was standing, at the entrance. The fire made her hair look scarlet; he could see a light tinge of pink on her cheeks.

"H-hello, Scorpius." Her voice was brittle, almost desperate. He felt his anger slowly fading away into a dull throbbing pain in the centre of his chest; was this remorse he was feeling?

Why would I be feeling sorry for her? She was the one that started all of this in the first place-

Maybe you're not pitying her. You're smart, aren't you? There are dozens of other things you could be feeling right now besides pity. It's not the only thing that makes you hurt inside.

He nodded curtly and made his way to the table in a few strides. He sat in his usual seat across from her and dropped his bag on the floor beside his chair. Linking his fingers together and setting his hands on the table, he stared hard at the cauldron between them, trying his best not to look up at her face. The silence was deafening; he knew that she could feel the tension as well as he could.

"So…" They both said simultaneously, and at that instant their eyes shot up towards each other. They only met for a split second, ocean and mercury. Scorpius turned his head towards the fire, his face uncomfortably warm, but he was certain it was not from the flames.

Are you convinced that it isn't pity yet?

"Sorry." They both said at the same time again, and he inwardly cursed himself. He cleared his throat and slowly began to turn his head back towards the table; she was staring downwards at her lap, her cheeks now splashed with a dark red. He also noticed that the skin around her eyes were puffy; was she crying earlier?

"U-um, I kind of started on the stirring; if you want to continue-"

"I'll do it." He stood up and grabbed the ladle, not because he wanted to do it, but for the sake of something to do. He pulled the cauldron towards him and began stirring the potion slowly; it was as clear as water now, and it did not smell like anything, exactly how like Veritaserum was supposed to be. He knew that he could just charm the ladle to stir itself, but he needed an excuse to not talk. She did not seem to mind.

So why aren't you angry at her anymore? You spent the past few days seething over what she said.

Shut up, shut up.

He could no longer stare straight into the cauldron; the steam was making his eyes water. He pushed it away.

"I think it's done. It doesn't smell like anything anymore, and it's clear." He said emotionlessly. She sniffled (he stiffened; he did not like being around crying people) and leaned forward to look into the cauldron. She then retreated back into her seat, looking miserable still, but she also seemed satisfied.

"Y-yes, I think so too. Should be ready for tomorrow then." She still sounded like she was going to break down in a fit of sobs, and it made him a little nervous. He realized that they still had Head duty to do, and he groaned inwardly. He plucked his badge from his pocket and pinned it to his shirt.

"You don't have to do it tonight." She said quietly, and he stared at her with a raised eyebrow. She sniffled again and shook her head. "We both don't. The prefects are doing the rounds tonight, remember?"

A wave of relief surged through him, and it seemed to have passed onto her too, for the red on her cheeks faded somewhat and her shoulders seemed a little more relaxed than they were when he first arrived.

"Oh, right." He plucked the badge off of his robes and dropped it into his bag. They both got up at the same time; Rose tapped her wand on the cauldron and it disappeared as usual. They both silently made their way to the door, where Scorpius opened it and waited patiently for her to walk through. He had no excuse to be impolite.

"Thank you." She said with a watery smile; he cringed at how shiny her eyes looked. He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, then spun on his heel to begin his semi-long walk back to the Slytherin common room. He felt a pair of eyes on his shoulder blades.

"Scorpius?"

For the first time that night he noticed that she had been calling him by his first name. He turned around slowly, his wispy bangs falling in front of his eyes as he did so. She was standing a few feet away from him, and he half-expected her to break down in tears and go on a little watery rant about how she was sorry about what happened, but instead she seemed to be holding herself back, like she was silently refusing to give him what he was expecting. Instead shook her head, her small, sad smile never changing.

"Good night." Her voice was cracking and barely a whisper; it was a good thing the halls were wide enough for the sound to bounce off. He stood there in silence for a few tense moments and then nodded shortly before spinning around again. He began to walk a little faster now, the cold air cutting through him. He just wanted to get those eyes off of his back. It was making him feel a little strange.

But he wouldn't say uncomfortable.