A/N : JK Rowling's property. Still not mine.

To all of you, readers and visitors, thank you for reading my story.

This chapter is longer. I hope you will like it.

Home

Scorpius was shy. He had grown and matured. He knew how to navigate in society, which words to choose, whom to manipulate to his benefit. But he was especially clumsy with girls. We've been working together for months before managing a real friendship. It was not an exuberant friendship. It was a closed, private, personal relationship. Our link over the years had evolved into something so precious that severing it was unthinkable. Personal matters were rarely discussed but we were at ease together. Silence was neither unusual nor uncomfortable. And I knew I could have gone to Scorpius about anything. I wasn't used of doing it, that's all. Anyway, he wasn't either.

When her 6-years-long relationship broke, Rose was crushed. I looked at her and saw nothing of what I've learned to appreciate. Her spark was gone. Her energy. Her laugh, her smile. Even her flares of temper. She was bitter and caustic, mean and angry. She felt vulnerable, betrayed. She took it out on us. All of us. Her family. Her cousins. Her friends. Me. For a time, she was lost. Our business and friendship suffered from the situation. Even my parents noticed something was off. And I had left their home long ago.

I remember the first time Scorpius met my parents. It really was long overdue. It had become absurd to keep him from them. He wasn't nervous but he wanted them to like him anyway. As if he had anything to worry about. As if they could not. Everyone who had tried to know him liked him. He just fell into the category of likeable persons. But if I was really honest, I knew deep down -very deeply buried anyway- that there was a chance my parents wouldn't condone our friendship. He was but a Malfoy. I might be a grown-up, I still need their blessing for all that is significant to me.

That's how a cold Sunday found us at their home, talking around lunch. Bless my brother who had rushed home to ease the conversation. Awkward is an euphemism. We were welcomed home and never a word was uttered that wasn't nice. My parents shook hands with Scorpius, kissed me, made idle chit-chat, they even went as far as enquiring about his work. They asked about the genesis of our business and his future goals. They talked about Quidditch and in any other house, it would have been downright friendly. Yet, we weren't comfortable. Scorpius felt it too. He was tense, his back straight. I closed my eyes once, and I could have sworn he was discussing an important business contract. I recognized his tone. Then I opened my eyes again, and it was only my parents. How strange can that be ?

Home.

I remember what home feels like. Home - that was my parents' house once. It was too big. Too empty with echoing corridors. Stern portraits who talked with authority and clipped tone. Who voiced their unwanted opinion and expected me to abide by it. Rooms that were banned, others which had been destroyed or rebuild, some which were avoided. The loss of grandeur and wealth obvious in the manor. But always, always, the watchful eye of my parents and their love for me to compensate the difficulties that were and those that were to come, the loneliness of an only child, the bitterness of my grand-parents. The wonderful garden of my mother, full of flowers and herbs, shade and sun. The stunning library, the peaceful music room with the grand piano, the violin, the many guitars and the bass. The amazing kitchen where I always was welcomed by the house elves who fed me biscuits and sugary delights and taught me much about cooking. Fortunately, my father stepped up for me despite my grand-parents' disapproval. Those are cherished memories. That's what home was like for a time. A contrast between harshness and quiet love.

Then I met Rose's family. The first contact had been uncomfortable but then, I discovered them. It was full of life and optimism despite all her parents had gone through. Her parents, who would cuddle and kiss in plain view. Who hugged and kissed their children and friends so often. Who would share knowing glances and smiles. Whose closeness was so obvious. Her family was raucous and joking and easy. It was fiery and arguing and jubilant. It was honest and simple. It was victorious. And it was never, ever calm. How could anyone think in all that bustle?

I decided my home would be a bit of both. My parents' quiet, cautious, penitent way of life mixed with Rose's positive and demonstrative one. Not opposed. Combined. Only the best of both. Yes, that was my promise. What I would achieve. What I would have earned. What I would deserve. What I would enjoy.

I remember that lunch with Scorpius. We were in our favourite restaurant, not far from our workplace. A muggle one. I watched him while he droned on and on about a new dig someplace I didn't even know the name of. I'm not proud to admit it, but my mind wandered. And it came to a sudden halt at a startling notion : that was home.

Home was being with Scorpius. Home was our little routine, this sense of comfort and ease, my unconditional trust in him. Home was lunching, sitting and talking quietly forgetting the world outside. Home was having him by my side.

Now, I just had to make him see what an absolute truth that was for the both of us.