"Down, Bart," Roman Nott said quietly, then turned towards a very red Rose and a very pale Scorpius, "I tried to stop him from getting in here, but he rarely ever listens."

"'S alright, Rome. Everyone knows what a brat he is anyway," Scorpius said.

"Shut it, Palefoy. You know I'm right. When Albus ran out of here as if his tail was on fire, we thought he'd been kicked out by the two of you. You know what I mean. " Bart said, then added to Rose with a smirk, "So, Weasley. Tell us. How scared are you after seeing our practice? Do you think your gang of girls can beat us?"

Humphrey hit him on the back of his head at this, which quieted him instantly.

But Rose wouldn't go quietly. "I am not going to dignify that with a response, Nott. You will see for yourself during the match."

"Okaaaay," Scorpius trailed before Bart could argue more, and pushed Rose out of the door by her shoulders. "Weasley will be going now, won't you?"

Rose just glared at him in response.

But right before closing the door in her face he whispered, "We'll talk tonight during patrol."

***
By the time Albus reached the Great Hall, he had lost his appetite.

Well. Not really. He was still hungry. But it was a selective hunger. More inclining towards a craving for something sweet. Nobody would be able to guess it at first glance at him, but Albus' sweet tooth was legendary in the family.

Fetching his stash of Honeydukes and the care package of cookies he got from Grams, Al headed towards the place where he was sure he wouldn't find anybody else lurking around.

Nobody, not even James when he was at Hogwarts, had figured out the fact that the Room of Requirement, the mythical part of this old place their father often used to speak of, had reappeared. Albus had discovered it one night when he had a nasty row with James over the questionable owner of a pair of shoelaces and chocolate caudrons, and had stormed off to nowhere with his Invisibility Cloak. He had desperately wished for "a place where I could get away from everything and everyone", and voilà, there it was.

Albus stood still under his cloak, at the place where the Room usually appeared for him, and quietly let the magic float through him, wishing for the same: "take me to a place where I could get away from everything and everyone."

He loved this secret little slice of heaven he had all to himself. Over the period of last year, he had moved his muggle record player (a gift from his Dad) and all of the records that he had collected over the years to this room. Here he could enjoy it without James and his James-ness, and Lily constantly trying to get into his room to chatter and make him play Exploding Snaps with him. There was a comfy chair, a bed, a desk and the best part- an illusion of sunlight or moonlight constantly reflecting from the window that had a view of a place he had never seen before, but frequently visited in his dreams: a meadow of flowers with a river runing by; horses and squirrels and little bluebirds existing in that green wilderness in perfect harmony. Often the seasons would change from that window depending on Albus' moods.

For instance, today he was expecting it to be a cruel winter. Or a rainstorm. He was angry, after all. Angry at a lot of people; Bart who wasn't taking practice seriously, that sodding Macmillan who had made it his mission to spew shite about Albus in the blasted Herald into his personal mission, Professor Provost for taking his sweet time in giving him permission to intern at the auror department for the mandatory summer rotation next year, Rose who believed that he didn't care enough about the whole Herald issue and hence was driving the crazy train taking Albus along with her, Scorpius who was fueling Rose's said crazy train and also zoning out in practice, Lily for being a generic brat, and of course, the Potter legacy that just won't leave him be.

Yes. Albus had issues. Contrary to popular belief, he had his own stress. But neither his family nor his friends seemed to grasp that fact. Even Scorpius, the one relationship that set him apart from everything that defined him as a replica of Harry Potter, had been acting weird since the term had started.

Albus shook his head in resignation and decided to concentrate on the task at hand. The Room was taking its time today. He chanted his mantra again for a few times. And it finally clicked.

When he opened the door, all of his imaginations about the window's view were forgotten. Because what he saw was something he would never have guessed:

The only light im the room was coming from the fireplace and the full moon outside the window. Sufjan Stevens' record was playing softly. His comfy chair had been moved closer to the fireplace, and on that chair was a girl, curled up in fetal position, fast asleep, with Albus' copy of Love in the Time of Cholera open in her lap, and a pair of black rimmed glasses perched on top of the book. He wanted to wake her up immediately and demand for an explanation. But as he moved closer, what worried him the most, was that she seemed quite at home in that chair, with her robes discarded on the bed, her Hufflepuff tie hanging loosely from her collar, her hair in a long blond braid resting on her left shoulder with a curl floating freely at her nape teasing the pulse in her neck, her soft mouth parted a little. It was safe to assume that this wasn't her first time in this particular version, Albus' version of the Room. His stolen copy of Oliver Twist and Arcade Fire's Funeral record made so much sense now.

He had seen her around and he hadn't been able to forget her. It wasn't because she was beautiful. She was a beautiful girl, but there was something else. Albus remembered her being there in one of their Herbology lessons with Hufflepuff, when she was cowering behind Neville's fresh batch of Lavender. And the other time when she was talking to Bart Nott near in the Courtyard during lunch. When Albus had asked him about her later, Bart had replied with a very uncharacteristically curt, "No one."

"Yes, I will go," the Mystery Girl mumbled, making Albus jump in surprise.

"No, Helen. Centaurs don't fly.."

Albus smiled a little, realising that she was talking in her sleep. He decided to abort his plan of waking her up. Instead, he removed his shoes and socks and hopped on the bed with his sweet stash.

"I can take care of myself. I am not a baby."

This was followed by another, "No. I don't want strawberry ice cream. Tastes foul."

Albus laughed at that, shoving a truffle in his mouth. This was better than television.

"No, you eat it, Bart. Marry it if you want to."

That sobered Albus up. There was definitely some connection between Bart and the Mysery Girl. Maybe he will ask Scorpius. He knows everything about everything..

***
Scorpius waited for Albus till 8:15 in the Slytherin common room. Albus was a no show here, too. Where had he gone off to now?

Scorpius didn't have much time though. If he didn't leave for his patrol, he was pretty sure that Weasley will bite his head off.

But he was proven wrong when Rose merely sighed at Scorpius' late arrival and greeted him with a dull, "You wanna take the North side today?"

When Scorpius looked on in confusion, she said very slowly in a tone that Scorpius' mother often took with his four-year-old sister, "Or I could go North if you aren't feeling up for it."

"Actually, I was going to suggest that maybe we should patrol together tonight instead of dividing it."

After a moment of contemplation and a slight sense of paranoia, Rose said."Okay."

They walked around the castle, catching a first year and a couple of unsuspecting lovers on the third floor. Much to Scorpius' amusement, Rose made a point of lecturing the culprits of the importance of curfew and school rules after deducting points.

Neither Rose nor Scorpius attempted to vreak the silence that was present like a third person all this time.

But as they turned the corner of the East wing on fifth floor, Scorpius decided that he'd had enough.

"You know that we need to talk, right?"

Rose didn't say anything at first. Then she murmured a reluctant, "I know."

"Albus is really angry."

"I know."

"Albus never gets angry."

"I know."

"We need to do something about it."

"I-"

"Yes, you know." Scorpius scoffed. "Tell me. Is this some Gryffindor tick of yours? I mean I am all hearts for your house- don't get me wrong- but I have exactly this much patience left in me right now, which you are threatening to blow up into bits and pieces." he said with his index finger and thumb a milimeter from each other held against Rose's face, demonstrating said patience.

That must've really offended Rose, because she swatted at Scorpius' hand and seethed, "What do you want me to say, Malfoy? That I don't care about how I am the reason why Albus got angry in the first place? How much it hurts him everytime we fight? How despite being the most pragmatic 16 year old, he still wishes for you and me to become best of friends? How difficult it actually is for us to have so much as a civil conversation?"

"And whose fault is that, Weasley? I tried to be your friend on that very first day on the train! You were the one who decided that I wasn't worthy of your precious friendship!" Scorpius' uncharacteristically loud voice came to an abrupt halt.

He had resented Rose for disregarding him on the train by dragging Albus away from him when he tried to speak with them on the first day. Retrospectively speaking, it wasn't that big a deal, but even a tiny incident could make a major impact on a child's mindset. And Scorpius, who had been conditioned by his father into expecting hateful behavior from his peers because of his family name, it was especially difficult to figure out people's motives. Draco Malfoy wasn't a cynical man, contrary to popular belief. But his own mistakes had taught him a lot. And even though he didn't want it to affect his son, he didn't believe in feeding his children any false hope of being welcomed with open arms by anyone. He was a hard realist, and much to his kind amd soft hearted wife's resentment, he had made a point of drilling harsh lessons in his son's mind. That was why Scorpius had a keen sense of right and wrong when it came to people and their motives. He knew that despite being an unbearable shrew, Rose Weasley was good. It was just that, the unbearable part always seemed to win. She probably wasn't acting on family hatred like he had initially believed. It was something entirely else.

"Why is it you hate me so much anyway? It is you who has always picked fights with me, you who makes it a point of taunting me and cutting me off during class. Half the time I don't even retaliate. I have no patience for your petty behaviour. But don't you think you are over doing it?"

Rose seemed to have lost her power of speech because Scorpius' honest confrontaation had thrown her off her game. She stared at him with wide eyes, thinking of a way to reply. After composing herself into somewhat a sensible human, she quietly srarted, "When we came to Hogwarts, I had only one friend- Albus. We had been thick as thieves since we were born. Did you know that we had even spent some time in the same crib as babies when my mother was too busy to be around?" Rose said with a smile. "Albus was always kind. Even then. Kind and honest and loyal and sweet. James enjoyed teasing me to tears, stole my toys, tugged my ears- said they were so soft that he couldn't resist. James was a menace even then. But not Albus. We used to do everything together. Even got our Hogwarts letter together when we were having breakfast at his house. He was my best friend. He was my best friend and you took him away."

"What-"

"Please let me finish, Malfoy. It is already taking a lot of my pride admitting this to you."

That quieted Scorpius.

"I know that it sounds petty. I know that its not your fault. But I am not the most accepting person, alright? Its hard for me to change my opinions. And you beating me in every single class hasn't helped, either."

"What are you on about? You're better than me in Charms."

"But you are better at everything else! And my dad told me to beat you in every test or he would be disappointed! And I am doing a terrible job at it because even Calista Boot is ahead of me in Potions! And I have this feeling rivalry against you because of that and I don't know how to be civil to you anymore okay?" She finished, trying to catch her breath.

It was Scorpius' turn to get stunned. Then said, "That is stupid, Weasley. I hope you know how ridiculous you just sounded." As an afterthought, he added, "Your dad told you to beat me at every test?"

Rose sighed, "He was joking. He does that all the time."

"Okay, look. This conversation is going nowhere, Weasley. We are making it about us, but its not about us. Its about Albus and we need to find a way to be civil. And before you say anything about the Herald Debacle, its been sorted."

"I agree. Even if it is going to be hard."

"Its going to be so hard."

"No more fighting."

"We try to be as cordial as possible."

"Even say hello when we can."

"Yeah. That could help."

"Truce?"

"Truce."

They shook hands on it, and started walking agin in pleasant silence.

"That doesn't mean we are friends." Rose muttered.

"Whatever you say, Weasley."

But as they reached fifth floor east corridor, they heard some noise coming out of the broom closet, it could have been the usual (young lovers), but it suspiciously sounded more like sobbing than sounds of pleasure.

Scorpius and Rose quieted down and with a careful creek, Rose opened the door.

***
Albus woke up from a dream where Macmillan got kicked by a flying Centaur, disoriented and confused. He tried to see through his sleep induced haze and realised that a wand was touching his nose. Bringing his glasses to their proper position, he glanced at the beautiful, and currently very scared owner of the wand, and everything from the last...some hours ago came rushing back to him.

Big blue eyes blinked at him once. Then twice. Then they narrowed into slits. And the owner of those eyes said, "What in the name of Helena are you doing here, Potter?"

Albus chose not to reply. He stared at her for a moment, taking her in. She looked like a little kitten who pegged herself a lion. It was all so surreal. Albus rarely got such a strong reaction out of people. Generally people got mesmerised by his gentleness and spilled their life stories to him within moments. But this barely five feet two inches of a girl was a rarity.
Albus sat himself into a better position and stood up slowly, trying not to startle her. She stepped back a little as Albus towered over her.

"The better question is what you are doing here. This is my place."

"No. Its not," the girl huffed. "It's nobody's place. It belongs to the castle, remember?"

When Albus didn't reply, she went on with, "And besides, I was here first. So, first come first serve, Potter."

Albus sighed with resignation, and started picking up the clutter she had caused, placing Love in the Chopera right next to One Hundred Years of Solitude, andmoved on to put back his Sufjan Stevens record on its place.

As he finally started cleaning his record player, Mystery Girl had lost her patience because she suddenly said, "Why are you touching my stuff? Are you a neat freak or something?"

"I don't like my stuff scattered around all over the place. Or disappearing from the place I left them last, for that matter," Albus said pointedly.

She seemed to have realised the truth, as she said, "You're A.P.."

Albus looked at her and huffed, "No shit."

Obviously caught in her lie about 'her stuff', she turned a bit red out of shame, and said, "Look I'm sorry, okay? I thought the books and the musical contraption were a part of this room. I didn't know that you put them here, or even you were ever here at all. Its just that..its ju-"

"So lovely abd peaceful that you feel like never leaving?"

"Yes!" The girl exclaimed with delight. "And...ilikeyourmusictoo." she added hurriedly.

"What?"

"Erm, you have a good taste in music. I like it a lot. And the books, too," she was blushing a bit now.

"Who are you, anyway?" Albus asked curiously."I have seen you around, sometines during our Herbology class and once with Nott."

The girl snorted humourlessly at that, moved towards the door and said, "Barty? Isn't he one of your friends? Why don't you ask him?" And with that, she stormed off, leaving Albus dazed.

***
"Umm, Louis? Are you alright?"

Louis looked up from his awkward sitting position. It was odd seeing the tall, beautiul, blond Head Boy crying in a broom closet at this time. Rose's face got etched with worry at seeing tears running down his face. His blue eyes were swollen and full of sorrow.

"What happened to you, Louis?" Rose asked again, her tone gentler this time.

Louis stood up, trying to wipe his face with his shirt sleeve, when a handkerchief appeared towards him from behind Rose.

Despite the gravity of the situation, that made Rose smile inwardly. Only Scorpius Malfoy, the peacock among all these boys of Hogwarts would keep a handkerchief like he were thirty years old.

Louis seemed to appreciate this gesture, though. Because he smiled at the other blonde with gratitude.

"If all the boys were like this one, I wouldn't be in this state." Louis manged to blurt at last.

"Oh, Louis. I'm sorry." Rose hugged Louis tight.

The Weasley family had taken Louis being gay with open arms. But that didn't mean that he was above others. He had a rotten luck with boys. And he always made the mistake of picking the dodgy ones.

"H-he said that he wasn't sure if he is g-gay. What does that even mean?" Louis sobbed.

"Well, bully for him then, Lou. Whoever that is. He is clearly an idiot." Rose said soothingly.

Scorpius just looked on with wide eyes while Rose abated Louis Weasley. It was surreal because the Head Botly was almost always annoyingly cheerful. Even making Prefect schedules made him ecstatic. Tonight he had learned two things:

1) Louis Weasley was not as happy as he always seemed.
2) Rose Weasley could be almost bearable when she was nice.