A/N: I probably won't update this again until next week or a little afterward, for I am leaving on another trip.

Thanks again for your ongoing support, it's really great of you guys to take time out of your eventful lives to read my stuff.

Hospital Wing Musings

"YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED SCORPIUS MALFOY!"

Tatia's screeching did not even reach Rose; she was transfixed on the still, seemingly lifeless body lying on the soft grass so far away from her. She ignored the gasps, the protests and of course the screeching from behind that threatened to tear her eardrums apart. Everything seemed to happen in a blur: first she was ecstatic at the fact that he somehow knew it was her who screamed out his name, and then a second later a bloody Bludger just had to come out of nowhere and knock him out cold. She knew it was her fault for distracting him, though she did not want to admit to the fact that she killed him. That would be just too much for her to bear. Hurting Scorpius Malfoy took a heavy toll on Rose; she felt her knees weaken and her heart accelerate but for all the wrong reasons.

"Rose, where're you going?" Jane's voice seemed distant as she whirled around to make her way down the staircase to the playing field. She felt tears stinging her eyes as she reached the bright green grass, plush under her shoes. It was much more terrifying to see him up close; the grass surrounding his head was stained with what looked horribly like blood. She felt her knees buckle again; not only did she hate blood but to see him so, so-

"He's losing blood fast, we have to take him to the hospital wing!" Theodore Flint's rumbling voice prevented her thoughts from moving forward, and she forced her legs to bring her over to the small group of Slytherins and Ravenclaws. They were huddled over the unconscious Scorpius like vultures; Theodore and Madame Hooch were kneeling by his side, examining him. Lysander and Damien were the only ones who noticed Rose stumbling towards them and they caught her when it looked like she was going to trip over her own feet.

"I-I was the one," She stuttered, her eyes burning with unshed tears, "I was the one who sh-shouted his name so loud, I'm responsible for a-all of t-this!" She let herself fall into Damien's arms.

"Don't blame yourself, Rose." Lysander soothed, rubbing her shoulder. "It was just an accident."

"Lysander's right." Damien held Rose out at arms' length and stared into her dark blue eyes, which were glazed over with tears. He smiled his best smile for her, but for some reason it did not seem as dazzling as before. She did not feel the usual warmth rushing to her cheeks and ears, and she definitely was not smiling back. She managed to convince herself that the only reason why his charm was not working this time was because she was just preoccupied with worrying over Scorpius, who was now being carried on a stretcher to the hospital wing. She felt her heartbeat raging inside of her ribcage, but she knew it was not for Damien. Despite all of this, she forced on a small smile and sniffled.

"Still, I c-can't help-" She turned her head towards the stretcher; though his hair was stained with fresh blood and there was a bit of dirt smudged on his cheek from the fall, Scorpius looked quite peaceful lying there. He could have been sleeping if not for his very obvious injury.

"He'll be fine. It'll take at least a week or so for him to go back to his usual snobby, egotistical, selfish, foul-mouthed, toeragged self, but he'll be fine." Damien said with another smile; Rose still did not feel anything.

She wondered if this was going to be some sort of a problem in the near future.

--

Am I dead?

Far from it.

Everything was black, pitch black. It was impossible to see anything through the darkness. To add onto the nightmare, his limbs felt non-existent; he was completely immobile and there was nothing he could do to fix it. He could not move his arms, if he had any, or his legs. He tried speaking, whispering, screaming, pleading, but his tongue seemed to have disappeared with the rest of his body. It was horrible, worse than any nightmare he had ever had in his life. It was worse than that dream that kept coming back to him nearly every night, with the mirror and the reflection of his father mimicking every move of his…

"Stay with me, Scorpius."

"Can you hear me, Scorpius?"

"I'm so sorry…"

That voice, it sounded so familiar…

"It's my fault, all my fault. If I didn't shout your name…"

"You're never going to forgive me for this, I know you won't."

"I was so stupid…"

He felt an unexpected jolt of excitement when he realized that the voice belonged to none other than Rose Weasley. She was the one who shouted his name, she was the one who distracted him from that incoming Bludger. She sounded sad, and he hated being around sad people, especially when they were crying. It bothered him a lot. He wanted to make her feel better for whatever she was apologizing to him for (he did not think it was her fault for the Bludger incident; it was not like she was the one who beat the Bludger in his direction, though for some reason he could not bring himself to admit that if she did not shout his name he could have had enough time to react), but he could not do anything. He was paralyzed and mute, completely vulnerable, utterly useless. He was frustrated and despaired at the fact that he was unable to help her. He wished he could give her some sort of sign, anything that would let her know that he was okay, despite the fact that he physically could not do anything.

"We never really were the greatest of friends-actually we were never friends in the first place, but that row we had during the Ball changed everything…"

Her voice was breaking; at first he was afraid he was losing touch with her, but then he heard faint sniffling noises and realized that she was crying.

"I'll be honest with you, Scorpius. My parents-well actually usually it was just my dad-never spoke highly of your family. Whenever they mentioned your father or your grandfather something bad always followed afterwards. It sort of influenced me into thinking that you were going to be just like them."

If he could, Scorpius would have snorted. He was not surprised that she was brought up like this; most of the wizarding world probably thought just like her family.

"And I was right in our first years of Hogwarts-" Again Scorpius pretend-snorted, "-you were stingy towards everyone, specifically to those without pure blood, and even more specifically, my family. It hurt a whole lot to hear you say all of those things, especially when it was directed towards me."

Great, now she was putting him through a guilt trip. Even when he was supposedly unconscious he could feel the horrid feeling washing over him. How he wished he could just wake up right now…

"You poked in all of the worst places, ridiculing my sidekick father and my Muggle-born mother, my reputation as a know-it-all…it was a horrible childhood for me. You were worse than the girls in class."

That last line whacked him hard, maybe even harder than the Bludger that was responsible for his unusual state. It was weird because though he was hit in the head, his head seemed to be the only fit part of his body, since he could still retain his thoughts and he was able to listen to her speak while the rest of his body rendered useless.

He faintly remembered the other girls in their year relentlessly teasing her not really for her know-it-all demeanor but for her looks. They teased her for her bushy, unusually coloured hair. Some even made up stupid rumours in fourth year about how she magically dyed it so that she could be different from the rest of the Weasley clan; he immediately found that rumour to be faulty since her brothers and sisters shared the same unique hair colour as her. The girls also ridiculed her for her rather large front teeth, which she would later grow into as they grew older.

He wondered how those stupid girls felt now, many years later. That bushy hair they continuously teased her for eventually smoothed and rippled out into a series of soft, rich russet waves, and her teeth became perfectly straight, pearly white, and just the right size. Her childish, baby blue eyes darkened into that dark, alluring, oceanic blue he loved so much, his real favourite colour, according to the Veritaserum. He knew that those girls that teased her so long ago were jealous of her now; they had nothing compared to her, and they knew it. If he knew it, then they certainly had to.

"It wasn't until last year when I noticed you change. You became...different. It surprised not only me but the rest of the school. You didn't like being compared to your family. You didn't bother me as much as you did before, and don't think I haven't noticed it-you got annoyed whenever somebody mentioned the word Mudblood!" Her voice seemed less fragile now and she sounded happier, much to his relief.

"I was still thinking quite shallowly of you though, to be honest. Somehow I still thought of you as an arrogant, fatheaded prat whose father paved the way for him. That night, Halloween night, the Ball-your birthday-you proved me wrong, however, and I had never felt so miserable in my entire life-well, up until now."

Her voice faltered at the slightest towards the end, and he thought she was going to break down into tears again. Him getting hurt invoked her feeling miserable? In their earlier years she probably would have gotten a kick out of this; he imagined her laughing hysterically with that gigantic family of hers.

"You told me that night that your father had nothing to do with what you have achieved up until now, and I felt so stupid for not realizing that earlier. It was not until Zabini told me that your birthday was on Halloween that everything clicked together. I know that having the son of a former Death Eater born on the day of James and Lily Potter's murder would be controversial. I was too thick to acknowledge the fact that you had a lot to live up to, and also a lot going against you."

He felt elated at her spilling everything out to him like this; he ached to show his appreciation somehow, and his physical limits aggravated him greatly. He finally had somebody who understood him, who knew exactly what he had to put up with. Merlin, if he could he would have leapt up from whatever he was lying on and given her a hug.

"It's so unfair for people to be treating you like this, especially when you haven't done anything to deserve it. It's ridiculous, how prejudice works." She paused to sniff loudly. "I know how that feels. You really can't escape your name."

Of course. Rose Weasley was the daughter of Hermione Granger-Weasley, the cleverest witch...well, ever. He knew Rose idolized her mother, but she also understood that she had big shoes to fill. In his opinion, he thought she fitted those shoes quite well. She aced every class and gave her best at everything, but she could not escape the constant comparison people gave between her and her mother: did Hermione get the same mark as Rose did back in her day? Oh, Rose slipped up on that one; Hermione would not have done so back then. Scorpius had heard all of the adults talk about her, and he could not help but sympathize with her.

"That's basically why I stopped calling you by your last name-simply because I know how annoying it gets when people constantly compare you to your family. I love my mother, and she's my hero. There's nothing I can do in this world without her by my side, and I'm so proud to be able to call myself her daughter, but I cannot help but bristle when others compare me to her. Yes, I am smart and a bit of a know-it-all, just like her, but why can't people see that our differences are just as obvious as our similarities?"

He made a mental note to remember to call her 'Rose' from now on. It was going to sound awkward on his tongue, he knew that for sure, but he was going to have to deal with it. She had a point there.

If he only had enough strength to squeeze her hand, or at least open his eyes or something…

"I'm so sorry Scorpius, this is all my fault. You're all mussed up because of me."

He looked that bad, huh?

A sharp pain enveloped him, much like the one he experienced before he was knocked out. It pounded at the back of his brain, spreading to the back of his neck and even behind his eyes. He grimaced and squeezed his eyes against the pain, then slowly began to open them…

The light that re-introduced Scorpius to the world only added to his excruciating pain. He groaned; everything looked over-exposed and way too bright. He raised the back of his hand to shield his eyes from the worst of the light-he groaned again in pain when he realized that his shoulder was hurting him-and turned his sore neck to give Rose a small smile.

His eyebrows raised in surprise-she was not by his side like he thought she was.

It took awhile, but Scorpius managed to sit up (he came to the sad realization that nearly every limb in his body was quivering with numbing pain). He wondered if that 'conversation' he just overheard actually happened, or if that Bludger really did give him some serious brain damage.

--

It was well past midnight, and Albus could not sleep. The horrible Quidditch accident that happened nearly a week and a half ago was enough to scare anybody, even if Scorpius Malfoy was the victim. Rose was devastated; she took the blame on herself again and spent nearly every second of her spare time in the hospital wing, poring over the unconscious Slytherin Seeker. He could hear his favourite cousin sniffling in the lounge below his dormitory; he debated whether he should go down and talk to her.

"She's been miserable for days, mate." Thomas Finnigan whispered in the dark. Albus could not see him but he recognized the young man's voice, "You're the only one she'll listen to at this point. Go down there and talk to her."

Albus kicked his covers away and hopped out of bed; he wriggled into a grey t-shirt and made his way out of the dormitory, barefoot and his lower body clad in a pair of black sweatpants. The fire was still roaring, making the Gryffindor common room seem redder than it usually was, and occupying the squashy armchair closest to the lively fireplace was none other than a crying Rose Weasley, still dressed in her school uniform. She was leaning forward in her seat, her elbows on her thighs and her hands pressed against her face. Her small shoulders were having up and down with violent sobs. Albus felt his heart sink; this was worse than the Halloween Ball incident. He slowly made his way down the staircase, carefully shifting his weight with every step so that he made as little noise as possible. He knew he was close enough when he felt the heat radiating from the fire.

"Rosie?" He squeaked nervously; he was afraid of her shooing him off or something, like what she did the days after the Halloween Ball. She did not say anything for the first few seconds, which he took as a good sign. He took a few steps closer.

"Albus." She croaked through her tears; her voice was muffled behind her hands, and she did not look up at him, but she spoke without anger, at least. Albus sighed in relief, realizing that he was on her good side, and took the seat across from her.

"Everything's my-"

"Let's not start this again." Albus interjected, already knowing what Rose was going to say, "It's not your fault. It never was your fault. Did you beat that Bludger? No, you didn't!"

Rose separated her hands to look at him; she was paler than usual and her eyes were red and puffy.

"You know very well that it was my fault, Albus. I was the one who shouted his name-"

"He would've gotten hit regardless. That Bludger was whizzing by so fast, even if he had time to react he probably would have gotten knocked out anyway. There was no way anyone could have escaped that." Albus cut in again, his voice firmer this time. He leaned forward and mimicked Rose's posture, except that his fingers were linked together in front of him.

"W-who hit that Bludger? Did you see?" Rose asked softly, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles. Albus frowned, thinking back to the night of the accident. If it were not for Thomas, who was sitting beside him the entire match, he probably would not have been able to recall everything properly. His eyesight prevented him from seeing the players clearly; he spent most of the time asking Thomas which player was which. Not wanting to admit it to Rose though, and also deciding that this was an inappropriate time to talk about it, he skipped the subject of his poor eyes.

"Um...it was a Ravenclaw, that's for sure, I think it was Monhagen who did it." Albus snorted and stared into the fire. Ever since the accident Paul Monhagen had become some sort of a local hero, known as the one who had the guts to Bludger Scorpius Malfoy. Of course poor Rose would not have known; she was too immersed in her misery to keep up with the school's social gossip.

"Ugh, I just turned more people against him. I'm causing more problems." Rose mumbled in between her fingers. Albus shook his head and moved to kneel in front of Rose. He patted her knee comfortingly.

"When are you going to realize that you can't make everybody happy?" He said softly, and that caused Rose to tear her hands away from her face for a second time. She stared at him, eyes as wide as her slack mouth. Albus stared at her hopefully, putting on a small, crooked smile, waiting for her reply.

"I don't know, Albus," She replied after a long pause, "I don't know."

Albus patted her knee again and moved to sit back in his chair.

"You have to think for yourself for once, you know. I hate seeing you like this, you look like you've just gotten a nine out of ten on every piece of homework you've ever gotten."

Rose giggled and she even cracked a tiny smile; Albus leaned back in his seat, triumphant.

"I don't know how do it, Al. You always have a way of making me feel better. We could be seconds away from the world's end and you'll still be able to make me laugh." Rose grinned and leaned further to grab Albus' hand. "Thank you." She whispered.

Albus smiled back and rubbed the back of his head with his free hand.

"Ah, it's nothing worth mentioning, really. I just want to make sure that you're happy, that's all. You're my best friend, Rose, that's what I'm supposed to do." He stood up and Rose followed him. "Now it's about time the both of us got some sleep, hm?"

Rose rubbed her eyes with her knuckles again, but this time it was because she was tired, not because she was crying. She yawned and nodded.

"Yes, it's pretty late now." She made her way towards the staircase. "Thanks again, Al. I owe you for this, and for the Halloween Ball."

Albus grinned again.

"I'll make note of that. Don't think I'll forget!"