Rose Weasley sat with a warm mug of tea in her hands and stared across the snowy Hogwarts grounds, safely hidden in the tiny room in the East tower it had taken her seven years to find. It was just a window and a bench and the cupboard she'd conjured so she'd have a place to keep a quill and set her tea, but she found herself curling up in the tiny space more often the last month. Her N.E. were only months away, and she still had no idea what she was going to do when she finally had to leave Hogwarts. After her career counseling in fifth year and her O.W.L. results, she'd had offers - loads of offers - for everything from internships to positions to magical fellowships to cosmetic endorsement deals (Scorpius and Al had teased her so mercilessly about the letters that she started burning them without opening them). She'd been contacted by seemingly every magical employer in the country, and some that weren't.

All Rose did anymore was worry. She ran through options available to her. She catalogued her possibilities and the little cupboard was crammed full of crumpled lists of pros and cons. Adding to her burden was the simple and obvious fact that every one of her cousins was doing exactly what they'd always dreamed of. James had been named reserve chaser for the Wimbourne Wasps (only after unsuccessfully petitioning to be the first ever male member of the Holyhead Harpies). Dominique was off in America with the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Victoire was in her healer apprenticeship. Molly was in South America breaking curses for Gringotts. Even Albus had his whole future mapped out; if he didn't shut up about his potions fellowship soon she was going to scream. Rose sometimes wished she didn't have quite so many cousins. Even now that they'd all graduated, she felt their presence in the castle. And her parents. And her aunts and uncles and grandparents. Being a Weasley was hard work, even for someone who worked as hard as Rose.

All she knew was that she wanted to make a difference. She didn't need to go in the history books like her parents, but she needed to do something that mattered. More than that, she needed to do something that mattered to her - that challenged her. So far, the only thing that had met any of those requirements also meant maybe losing everything that mattered to her. The letter she'd received that morning - the third of its kind - barely poked out of her bag. She'd already read it so many times she'd memorized it.

"Cheer up, Rose" she sighed to herself, waving her wand to clean and store her teacup.

"Talking to yourself?"

Rose's head snapped up. Scorpius stood, leaning against the doorway, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed at him.

"How did you find me?"

"Rose, you've been coming here for months. Did you think I wouldn't notice you were disappearing? Did you think I wouldn't try to find where to?"

"Does Al know?"

"No," Scorpius said slowly. "But that's because he respects other people's privacy."

Rose snorted. "And of course you don't."

"Not yours at any rate. I was worried. You haven't been yourself."

"I'm fine," she said too quickly.

Scorpius heaved a sigh and stepped into the room, sitting down on her bench. "Liar. And a poor one at that."

She leaned her head against the cool stone of the wall and let her eyes slip closed. "What am I going to do now? I planned my whole life up until this point. Gryffindor. Prefect. Head Girl. What if I peak at Hogwarts? What if I never figure out what matters?"

"Impossible," he said at once.

"Easy for you to say. You know exactly what you're going to do."

"I know what I want to do, Rose. But am I going to be able to do it?"

Her eyes popped open and she wrinkled her nose. "But you've already gotten your preliminary acceptance into the program."

"And I'm a Malfoy," he said simply.

"Don't be stupid. Uncle Harry doesn't care about that. So long as you make your N.E.W.T. requirements and make it through the trials then you're set."

"Not everyone is as saint-like and forgiving as your Uncle Harry."

His voice had that matter-of-fact flippancy that always annoyed her, and she scowled. "If that's a shot at my dad then - "

"Retract the claws, Rose. Your dad has never been anything but civil to me. It was a shot at the rest of our world, and at the people who haven't forgotten what the name Malfoy meant for hundreds of years. The people who won't forget. Your Uncle accepted me into the training program, but I'm going to have to work twice as hard as the rest."

"But you'll do it," she said, with absolute conviction. Being accepted was a long shot at best - at most 2 positions were offered each year and only one to a Hogwarts student, if any offers were made at all. "You'll get the N.E.W.T.s you need no problem."

He smirked. "I know."

"Practicing the obligatory auror arrogance?" she teased.

"I know because I'll make it work. Because I'd give up anything for this."

"Anything?" she asked quietly.

He hesitated just a moment, pausing to stare down at his hands in a way that reminded her so much of their first day at Hogwarts that she wanted to cry. "Yes. This is that important to me. You just haven't found that yet. Take some time off. Do a gap year. Have some fun. Merlin knows you've earned it."

She frowned, thinking maybe she had found it and hating that she couldn't tell him. "I just feel restless. I want to start living my life and - "

"Rubbish. You're afraid of disappointing everyone. Al's been fretting about it for ages."

"It's not that." And it really wasn't. People often expected her parents and their contemporaries - the people who had shed blood in the war - to cling hardest to the old prejudices and the old traditions. Rose was blessed with a family who would love and support her no matter what she decided as long as she was doing something that made her happy. Everyone had expected she or Albus or James to end up an Auror, but - so far - not a single Weasley or Potter had shown the slightest interest. She'd overheard her dad talking to her mum about how proud it made him that they did their job so well that the next generation was out living their lives exactly the way they wanted to live them. That pride was the one thing that frightened Rose - that she would be the one to settle.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm not ready to talk about it yet, Scorpius."

"Suit yourself," he said, getting to his feet and stretching. "How do you sit in here for hours? I'm pretty sure my trunk has more space."

"Not all of us are freakishly tall," she replied, smiling and taking the hand he offered. "Walk with me back to the tower?"

"Can't. Quidditch," he said, gesturing to the scarlet robes hidden beneath his cloak.

He paused, his brow was furrowed and just the very corner of his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. She knew he wanted to say something - to ask her just once more - but he refrained. It made her twitchy to know she was lying to him. "I'll be fine, Scorpius. Tell Al to quit worrying."

"I worry, too," he said, almost defensively.

"I know," she said, reaching out to squeeze his arm and trying to ignore the fizzing sensation in her stomach.

"I'm serious, Rose. I know something's going on and I know you're not telling us what it is. And that's ok for now. I'll give you time. But I'm your best friend, and you're mental if you think I'm going to drop it."

"Please," she said, forcing a lightness to her voice that she didn't feel. "When have I ever been able to keep a secret from you?"

He stared at her for a long moment before she finally looked away.

"Come on," he said, resigned. "I'll walk you back to the tower so you can get your cloak then you're coming with me to practice."

"But it's snowing!"

"The cold air will be good for you," he called over his shoulder as he led the way down the winding staircase.

"Every time you say that, I end up frozen and grumpy."

"I like you grumpy," he laughed as they headed for the main corridor.