He wished he had never gone into Hogsmeade with her. He cursed that day. That day had changed everything for him. It had taken the nice little shell of friendship Scorpius had built, and smashed it all to bits.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. At night, he lay awake in bed, staring up at the red velvet curtains draped around him. But he never really saw the curtains; Scorpius saw Rose. He saw her scrunching up her nose during tests, chiding Al for spilling food down his front, helping Lily with homework. He saw the way her eyes sparkled when she got her potions just right, her curious smile when she watched Quidditch, the way she closed her eyes and hummed, off-key, to the wireless.

He couldn't help but feel, now, that he couldn't even look at her without feeling ashamed and guilty and nervous. It was Rose, goddammit, but it was also Rose. He always found himself staring at her lips. He could smell her perfume—vanilla—even when she was gone. He had never wanted something, someone, so badly in all his life. And yet…

Al had been wrong. She did not feel the way he did, Scorpius was sure of it. She acted like she always had, his friend, through and through. She smacked him on the back of the head when he made jokes about the girls in class. She helped him stay up to write his papers. She picked out all the pepper flavored Bertie Bott's when they shared a box, because she knew they made him sick. She hissed aloud at Scarlett and Zabini when they made snotty side remarks. Because that was what friends did.

In January, after their winter holiday, Scorpius spent another sleepless night in bed. He had flipped over onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillows, but he couldn't sleep. Today, Rose had been partnered with Travis in charms. She had touched his hand when attempting to show him how to cast a spell, and Scorpius had the sudden urge to tear off Travis' hand.

"Mate," Avery muttered from across the room, cutting across Al's snores. "If you keep tossing and turning like that, I'm going to hex you."

"Sorry. I'll…" Scorpius trailed off. He got up, put on his slippers, and opened up the door to the dormitory. He closed it quietly behind him and went downstairs. He had just reached the bottom of the staircase when a head popped up on the sofa. Rose turned to him, beaming.

"Hi Scorp," she said cheerily, as if it weren't two in the morning. "Can't sleep?"

"No," he admitted, crossing the room. He sunk into a chair near her. Rose was surrounded by quills and ink and notes, her long hair piled carelessly upon her head. "And you're…studying."

"You sound surprised."

"I'm not."

Rose shrugged. "I've been bothered by something in History of Magic. Do you think Fredricka Rumthot knew being burned at the stake wouldn't hurt? Or do you think it was just a mad gamble, because I couldn't find it in my notes…"

"She was mad."

"Is it in your notes?" She blinked rapidly, biting down on the corner of her lip.

"Doubting me, Weasley?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Of course not. But just to be sure…"

"She had to have been mad. She didn't know what those flames would do, you know? She just…she allowed them to tie her up to the stake."

"Was she mad though?" Rose pondered. She blushed slightly and looked down at her papers. "You know, Professor Binns never told us why she did it. Only that she was the first to be burned."

Scorpius grinned. She had the eager look on her face she got whenever she was bursting to tell him something.

"Go on, then."

"She was in love with a muggle man. I suppose her village believed him to be a wizard, and they wanted to burn him. She knew he hadn't, he couldn't, have done anything. So she stepped in and sacrificed herself instead."

"That's sad."

"Yes," Rose mused. "But isn't it amazing, too? Just, loving someone so much that you'd throw down your life for them? She probably thought she was going to die, you know."

"What happened to her?"

Roses' face fell, and hair escaped from the knot on her head, falling across her eyes.

"Oh. Well, once the village realized they couldn't burn her, they panicked. They killed the muggle instead and locked her up. My research-"

"Your research?" Scorpius interrupted, incredulously. Rose continued as if he had not spoken.

"She killed herself. Hung herself. She couldn't be without him, I suppose. Couldn't imagine her life without him."

Scorpius crossed his arms. It seemed mad, to him. Giving up your life just because one person couldn't be in it? And yet…Rose was sitting cross legged, her shirt riding up just enough that he could see her belly-button. Her fingers pushed at her hair, impatiently, and she raised one eyebrow at him and smiled, slowly.

It didn't seem mad at all.

"I'd do the same," Scorpius blurted.

"For Lily?"

"No, god." He blushed. Rose's smile disappeared. "Well, I mean, yes. For you, and Al and Lily. You're..."

"Family." Rose said it simply enough, with enough tone and promptness that allowed him not to say it. Scorpius nodded and looked down at his fingers.

"I'd do it too," she piped up.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. There's probably no better way to die…well, no. That's not true. But I would wager there isn't a more noble way to die. That's what mum and dad say about the war, you know? People died for a noble cause. Love's about as pure and noble as it gets."

There was a moment that passed in silence, where Rose looked at the fireplace and Scorpius looked at Rose, and then it shifted; Rose looked at Scorpius and he looked at his feet.

"Hey," Scorpius suddenly said. "D'you remember when we found that mirror, our first year?"

"Mhmm."

"What did you see?"

Rose looked up at him, her mouth slightly ajar.

"In the mirror?"

Scorpius nodded, and if he weren't mistaken, she flushed slightly.

"Oh. Nothing. I didn't see anything. Why do you ask?"

"Dunno."

Roses' face crinkled up into a smile. "You're in a weird mood. Come on."

"Just feels like stuff is changing." Scorpius looked back at the fire, avoiding her gaze. "Al spends time with Jaclyn now, James has his rotating door of girlfriends…"

"Nothing's changing." Rose suddenly stood up, knocking all her notes to the floor. She knelt down by his chair and tugged on his arm. "Come on. I didn't get the memo tonight was share-your-feelings-night."

"I expect you'll be going with Travis soon…"

"No," Rose said, recoiling slightly.

"No?"

"No." She shook her head. "We have it all worked out. We're friends. He knows it won't go further than that because I don't want it to."

"Well, someone else then."

"Maybe." Rose looked level, stern. She butted his arm lightly with her forehead, and Scorpius couldn't help but smile.

"And you and Lily?"

Scorpius looked right at her. He wished he could tell her how he couldn't think of anyone else. He didn't want to eat, he didn't want to sleep, he didn't want to be anywhere where he couldn't be with her. He wished he could tell her how it was like someone had flicked a switch, and he felt so stupid after all this time, looking at anyone else but her. He wished he could tell her how fucking beautiful and brilliant she was, and how he had never met anyone else in this world like her and how lucky he was that she had invited him to sit in that compartment on the train…

He looked right at her, and her hand slipped off his arm.

"Maybe," he said.