3. Through the Dark

Author's Note: The title of this story is a song by Kelly Clarkson, this chapter title is a song by KT Tunstall. I don't own these, and I don't own Harry Potter either.

This chapter is a lot longer – about twice as long – as the last two, but it has some definite relevance to the plot and it was really fun to write. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you tell me so. ;D

A week or so passed wherein Rose and Scorpius barely spoke. It wasn't so much that Rose was still angry with him over his joke at her expense in the forest; they'd just slipped into the habit of ignoring one another, and didn't have many lessons together those few days anyway. She spent her time with Albus when possible during lessons, and sat under the shelter of the courtyard with the rest of her family during rainy October lunchtimes. They were somewhat monotonous, her first few days in October, but not unpleasant.

Fate brought Rose and Scorpius together again in one of the strangest places they'd ever spoken; in a broom cupboard on October the fourth at midnight while a storm battered the castle outside and Filch prowled the dungeon corridors.

---

Rose was hungry.

While the thunder and lightning battered the stone walls of Hogwarts, the majority of its students sat up in their dormitories and common rooms playing cards and sharing midnight feasts. It would have been the same for Gryffindor but for the fact that nobody had any snacks. Students of all ages were crammed along the big red sofas in the common room, complaining about their hunger pains and their Chocolate Frog cravings.

Rose was no exception, and she sat on the rug in front of the roaring fire, rubbing her stomach and grumbling to Albus and James. Roxanne had descended from the seventh year girls dorms an hour or so before to attempt her Head Girl duties and send them back to bed, but within ten minutes she had joined in with the hunger complaints and set up a game that involved transfiguring ordinary common room objects so that they had legs and then making them race. She sat cross-legged on an armchair in her owl-printed shorts-and-vest pyjama set, long blonde hair gathered all around her as she oversaw the proceedings of her game and handled all the sickle-and-knut-based bets on the races.

Quidditch Captain Louis was in the corner with a few girls, bragging about his adventures on a broomstick and correcting them on the pronunciation of his name whenever possible. "It's Loo-ey, sweetheart," Rose had heard him tell them over five times now. "Not Lew-is. French name, you see."

It only took Rose's loudest stomach growl yet to force her into a standing position. "I'm sick of this," she told the general vicinity of people. "I'm starving here. Food is on the way." With a determined look in her blue eyes, she marched to the portrait hole. In all honesty, she looked a little ridiculous. She wore a pair of James' old pyjama bottoms, printed with Bludgers – the Potters and the Weasleys don't like to waste stuff – paired with a too-small black Fall Out Wizard concert t-shirt. On her feet were rather fetching slippers, the front of which had cat faces. The enchanted cat eyes in the slippers changed colour depending on the mood of the wearer. Right now they were red.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca Longbottom asked, peering out of big eyes behind her curtains of dark hair.

"A magician can never reveal her secrets," Rose replied cryptically, before winking at James. He knew where she was headed, and she watched him head up to the dormitory. She knew he was going to get the Marauder's Map so that he could watch where she went. James was a pain in the arse a lot of the time, but he did care about his family.

Taking her wand from its place (it had been tucked into the stretchy waistband of her pyjama bottoms), Rose slipped awkwardly out of the portrait hole, ignoring the questions she got from the drowsy, exhausted Fat Lady. She made her way cautiously to the entrance hall, tiptoeing down stairs and starting violently whenever she thought she heard the noise of an approaching person. She kept her wand light extremely dim. Once she got to the bottom of the Grand Staircase, she took a right and went through the door nearby. It was the route to the kitchens and, she knew, the Hufflepuff common room. She also supposed that these basement passages connected to the dungeon corridors as well.

Rose extinguished her wand, the path ahead lit by dull magical lamps. Unlike the lifelike paintings of famous wizards that littered the walls of the other areas of the castle, images of fruit and vegetables adorned the walls surrounding her now. She observed them as she walked, her feet taking her to her destination without her even needing to think about it. Rose supposed she was halfway to the kitchens when she heard a door slam somewhere behind her. She froze automatically, panic clawing at her throat when she heard footsteps coming the way that she had. A hummed tune also floated into her ears. "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggywarty Hogwarts! Teach us something new..." Coughs and wheezes broke the song apart in places.

Filch!

The sheer thought of the man made Rose shiver and she immediately started walking as quickly as she dared. Her slippers muffled the worst of the noise. Hogwarts' nasty caretaker hadn't changed a bit since her father was here, according to the stories she had been told, so she knew that she certainly didn't want to be caught wandering the castle at night on his watch.

Rose stumbled, bumping into the wall and causing a noise. To her horror, Filch's singing stopped, and he called out, "Who's there?" His voice was quiet, so she assumed that he was still a couple of corridors away... but he was close enough to hear her lose her step. She hoped that his cat wasn't anywhere nearby.

Breaking into a reckless run, Rose risked making more noise as she sprinted around the corner. The painting of the pear was illuminated in dim light but the rest of the corridor was enveloped in darkness- which is why she didn't see Scorpius Malfoy until she crashed straight into him. She had no idea which angle she'd hit him at; only that she'd seen his bright blond hair just a second too late. The pair swore, Rose in pain and Scorpius in shock, but fortunately neither fell down. Snatching his arm, Rose dragged her bewildered Ravenclaw almost-friend to the single door in the hallway – which happened to be a broom cupboard, she knew from past experiences – and shoved him inside. Closing the door behind her, she flicked her wand and placed a temporary lock on it, hoping that she'd managed to get inside before being seen.

Filch was nearby. His footsteps were loud and so was his voice as he snappishly asked whoever was there to reveal themselves. Rose's wand was lit dully, washing hers and Scorpius' faces in light. She watched Scorpius closely, her huge blue eyes widened in panic as she mentally begged him to understand and stay quiet. Luckily, Scorpius was intelligent. He knew enough about Filch to know not to draw attention to their hiding place.

Eventually, after two minutes that felt stretched to two hours, Filch seemed to put down this midnight disturbance as one of the ghosts, or Peeves. He ambled off, starting to hum his Hogwarts school tune beneath his breath again. Only when his footsteps and his voice had faded into silence did Rose find her voice. She pushed away a bucket that her legs had been awkwardly wrapped around, and said hoarsely, "What are you doing here?"

Scorpius lit up his own wand, the light that he created shining several times brighter than Rose's pathetic glow. Then he countered her question with one of his own. "Oh, so you're talking to me now?"

Rose stared at him fiercely for a moment, before replying, "Yes. If you're lucky, maybe I still will be tomorrow." Not one to ever be outdone, she murmured a spell beneath her breath and flicked her wand so that it too shone vividly. She put hers down on a bucket. "So what are you here for, then?"

"Kitchen," Scorpius said. "Everyone's up in the common room because of the thunder, like last year. Remember last year?"

Rose grinned. The year before, pretty much every being – human and otherwise – in Hogwarts had been kept awake by the loudest and most frightening thunderstorm they had ever been forced to sit through. It had gotten so bad that it had reduced some of the first and second years to hysteria, so the school staff had summoned everybody down to the Great Hall in their pyjamas. At a moment's notice, the house elves had put together a massive feast of every dinner plate leftover from tea, every dessert and every piece of snack and confectionary that they could find. The school's aged Headmistress, McGonagall, had placed a Wizard's Wireless on the high table and turned the volume up. Together, the students and staff had waited the storm out. Lessons had been discarded the next day in favour of catching up on sleep.

"Yeah, that's what I'm here for, too. Nobody's got any snacks or anything in their trunks. Or, if they have, they're not willing to share," Rose said, wrinkling her nose. "I wish they'd bring us down to the Great Hall again, but it's not as bad this year, is it?" Her stomach rumbled suddenly, and she blushed in the darkness.

Scorpius laughed. "What are we waiting for? Filchie's gone, let's get us some grub."

The pair stumbled uncomfortably out of the tight broom cupboard, retrieving their wands and heading over to the huge painting of fruit. Rose tickled the pear gently – which giggled in response – and the door opened. Within seconds of stepping over the painting Rose was dragged inside by an army of house elves, each fussing over her and enquiring in their squeaky voices as to what she needed and how her parents were. Scorpius was left, untouched, by the painting door. Rose managed to ask for a basket of sweets and chocolate eventually, but also ended up informing the elves that yes, her uncle was doing extremely well; no, his scar hadn't hurt him since he was at Hogwarts; yes, Louis was still Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team; and no, he was unlikely to be kicked off so that James could take his place.

Motioning for Scorpius to come forward, Rose took a seat on one of the comfortable booths in the kitchen. "What are you, shy?" she asked, chuckling, surprised by his suddenly subdued nature.

"No," he scoffed, sitting down beside her. "But it's hard to be in a room with over a hundred creatures that, small as they are, absolutely hate your guts."

Rose frowned. "Why would they hate your guts?"

"Um, let's see... maybe because I'm the son of the guy who made your uncle – and their hero –'s life a living fucking misery since he was in first year?" Scorpius said, sarcastically 'hazarding a guess'.

For once, Rose didn't rise to Scorpius's obvious annoyance. "Right..."

The house elves interrupted, pushing a huge basket of treats onto Rose's side of the booth. They made sure to keep it out of Scorpius's grabbing distance and, when they backed off into another corner of the kitchen, Rose heard 'Malfoy' repeated over and over like the angry buzzing of bees.

"Scorpius would like something to take back to his house members, please," Rose called out to Scorpius' surprise, standing up. One house elf scurried back to stand before her, and said quite proudly, "We do not like to serve the Malfoy spawn, Miss Weasley."

Rose gawped down at him, before becoming quite indignant. "Well, why not? Scorpius is no different to me. If you refuse to serve him you are refusing to serve the Ravenclaw house in its entirety. I refuse to let my friend's reputation become so carelessly tarnished simply because of the name he inherited from his father. What do you want, Scorpius?"

It was Scorpius' turn to gawp. His mouth opened and closed in an 'o' of surprise, before he waved a hand. "Y'know what, Rose, it doesn't matter."

"No, it does. We'll have another of those baskets!" she said, barely remembering – for the first time in her life – to mutter the added on, "Please."

With a huff, she turned and sat back down in her booth, a hand on the wicker of her snack basket. Scorpius stared at her, before a smirk grew on his face and he asked, "So, let me get this straight, Red: we're friends now?"

Rose glanced at him, considering his face before replying shortly, "Yes. I suppose we are."

"Okay," Scorpius replied, grinning and raising his hands defensively. "Just had to get that cleared up with you. You really are difficult sometimes, Rosie."

"So are you."

"I know. That's why we get along."

Rose glanced at her basket of food and bit her lip. She seemed to be silently debating something in her head, but an abrupt rumble of her stomach appeared to give her cause to make a decision. She slid the basket onto the floor and took off the red gingham cover across the top of the packets below, spreading it onto the table in front of the booth like a table cloth. Her mouth watered at the sight of the food below; pasties and éclairs and cakes sat above a sea of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans, Chocolate Frogs and Sugar Quills. And those were just the delicacies that she could see. "Screw it, I'm tucking in," she said, snatching a few things out of the basket and putting them onto the table. "Help yourself. We can take the rest up once we've had our pick."

And, with that, she sank her white teeth into the chocolate, pastry and cream of a delicious éclair. Rose couldn't help the moan of pleasure that she got from the dessert. It was as if she hadn't eaten in months. She was unaware of Scorpius' eyes on her as she ate, but even if she had have seen him she wouldn't have cared. He leaned over her to pick out a handful of little cupcakes decorated in varieties of baby-coloured icing and stuck into those. For a couple of minutes they scoffed in silence, but Rose eventually spoke up.

"It was my birthday yesterday," she informed Scorpius, starting on another éclair.

"You have cream on your nose," Scorpius responded. "And, was it? Happy belated birthday. Sorry I missed it."

Rose self-consciously rubbed at her nose. "You aren't," she argued, shaking her head. "It was shit. I just got to hang out with my cousins and my brother again in the common room, eating homemade cake from grandma and groaning as I find out that I've got socks from James again."

Scorpius winced. "Urgh, socks are a shit present."

"They're okay until you've received them eight times."

"No," Scorpius insisted, shaking his head. "Socks are just a shit present in general."

"Alright then, Mr Genius Buyer. What would you buy?" Rose challenged.

"What, for you?"

"For anybody."

"Um... what? I dunno, give me specifics. This game doesn't work unless you give me someone specific."

"Fine then, me. What would you buy me instead of socks?"

Scorpius paused to think and take a bite of his cupcake. "I'd buy you a book," he told her. "First of all. A book on something you're really crap at, like... History of Magic."

"I'm not crap at History of Magic!"

"You are," Scorpius laughed. "You're horrendously bad at it. I think you're forgetting that oral essay we had to do about the dates of wizard death penalties?" Rose cringed, and Scorpius went on. "Yeah, before you ask, it really was that terrible. Besides, I've seen you asleep in that lesson more times than I've seen you awake in it, so I'd buy you a book to help you. Of course, since the subject bores the pants off you, I'd make little notes and stuff in the margins before I gave it to you. Just jokes and things to keep you awake while you read. Fun facts, and that. I'd buy you some chocolates from Honeyduke's, too, because you can't buy someone a book about a subject they hate without balancing it out with something they love."

"Wow," Rose said, biting her lip through her smile. "I didn't see that coming when I asked you."

"My turn," Scorpius said, shifting the focus from him as quickly as it had arrived. "What would you buy me?"

Rose giggled slightly nervously. "Agh, give me a minute." Like he had, she ate a couple more bites of éclair while she thought about it. "Okay, I'd buy you a lifetime supply of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, because I know you like those, but I'd pick out all the green ones. That way there's less to throw at me." Scorpius burst into laughter. "I'd also get you really expensive tickets to your favourite Quidditch team's games, that's for sure. I know you'd like that." She tilted her head to think again, and then looked down when she said the next gift. "And I'd find a way to make it so that everyone stopped hating you for mistakes that your father made."

Scorpius' smile slid off his face and he was so silent and intense that, for a moment, Rose thought she had offended him in some way. Then his thin lips curved upwards into one of the most genuine smiles she thought she'd ever seen on him. "Thanks," he told her. "Those would be the best gifts I'd ever received." They fell into an oddly uncomfortable silence until Rose cheerily broke it.

"So, talking of presents, what are you doing for Christmas this year, anyway?"

---

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms never got to see their sugary treats that night. Scorpius and Rose stayed talking in the kitchens until the very early hours, until a house elf had helpfully – though somewhat timidly – approached them to inform them that it was past four o'clock in the morning and that the storm had stopped over two hours ago. Lost in conversation, neither sixth year had even noticed when the thunder had ceased rolling. Rose had shrieked in panic and disbelief, grabbing her basket and disappearing at a run back to the Gryffindor common room without a single glance behind her.

The time had just flown, though. It had been so long since Rose had had a conversation with somebody that wasn't either related to her by blood, or related to her through marriage. The feeling of sharing such different pasts and ways of life with someone else gave her a slightly alarming thrill, and she found herself looking forward to her next lesson with Scorpius Malfoy. She vowed that, next time she sat beside him in Potions, she'd try to find out some real information about him instead of ceaselessly bickering about insignificant ingredients. Her grudge towards him about the pranks in the forest had been completely forgotten.

When she'd got back into the common room, she found it completely deserted. It looked like someone had hosted a wild, drunken party in there, however; wrappers from the few pieces of food people did have were littered across the floor, along with playing cards, chess pieces and owl biscuits. Rose sincerely hoped that nobody had been pushed far enough to try and eat the latter. Placing the basket quietly on an end table, Rose had scrawled a quick 'sorry guys!' across a battered sheet of parchment and stuck it on the top before sneaking upstairs and collapsing into bed. She slept like a log until eight o'clock in the morning and got three and a half hours sleep. Needless to say, she missed breakfast the next morning.

But, a tiny and proud part of her insisted, it was worth it.