Beta'd by the lovely Arete20 on Ao3.

Chapter Two: Not-Falling

Albus and Orion were flirting with each other.

To be fair, they weren't so open about it when they were all sitting together, but as soon as Rose went up to the bar to grab another drink, it was inevitable. Albus and Orion practically scooted together in the booth, huge grins on both their faces. Albus had his hand on Orion's arm for the past five minutes, though she was sure he didn't realize it; they were lost in their own world.

They loved each other so much. It was pure torture, watching them.

Rose instead chose to relax at the bar, beer in hand. It wasn't that she particularly minded—this happened nearly every time they all went out together—but usually Emily or another Wasps teammate would join so she wouldn't feel like such a third wheel. Of course, it had been a while since either of them had done that.

Merlin, she needed to find new friends. How did adults make friends, anyways?

Scorpius chose that moment to sit next to her at the bar, flagging down the bartender. "Firewhisky, please."

"What are you doing here?" Rose asked, surprised. Scorpius hardly ever joined them at the pub, citing that he too hated being the third wheel. Which was strange, considering he lived with Albus and Orion and had been putting up with them since Hogwarts.

"Meeting some friends from uni," he replied, glancing at his watch. "Can't really afford the night out, but it's apparently a special occasion. You?"

Rose nodded towards Albus and Orion. "Came here with them, but I couldn't break up the lovebirds. They're too happy."

"If they could get it together, maybe they would be," Scorpius said, getting his whiskey and taking a swing.

"Maybe they just like basking in the sexual tension."

He cough-laughed, only just managing to keep from choking. "Merlin, Rose, you could warn a guy."

She hid her smile in her beer. "What's going on with those two, anyway? You'd think if they were soulmates, it was only a matter of time."

"Well," he said, turning to face her, "if you ask me, Orion is being sensible. He told me that he's worried that they might be part of the 1% of matches that fail."

This was news to Rose. "You're not serious?"

"Yep." He shrugged. "I mean, if you think you're going to fail, why bother trying?"

"I don't agree with that logic whatsoever."

"Of course you don't," Scorpius said, sniggering. "Bleeding optimist."

"But they're soulmates." She shook her in disbelief, glancing at them again. Orion was laughing at something Albus said, leaning sideways into his shoulder. "They already love each other. It would be so easy for them to just admit it."

"See, I think that's the problem," Scorpius said, pointedly not looking at the couple. "Albus thinks if he pushes Orion too hard, he'll lose him. He insists Orion needs to be the one to instigate the whole thing. Orion, on the other hand, needs to be pushed into believing it'll work."

"That, and they're both stubborn as hell."

"Cheers to that." They clinked their drinks together. He gestured towards Albus and Orion with a nod to his head. "Why don't you just head out when they're like this?"

"I like to stay," she explained, shrugging. "Sometimes Albus needs me after being around Orion like that. At least I can keep an eye on him, making sure he doesn't drink himself into a stupor."

"That's sweet."

She blushed and paid close attention to the rim of her glass.

"You know," he continued, not seeming to notice Rose's inability to breathe, "even if I don't believe in all that soulmate crap, I'll give it to you. My friend is going to tell me tonight that he proposed to his girlfriend."

She paused. "And you already know about this?"

"He found his soulmate a few months ago," Scorpius said, shrugging before pushing himself off his barstool. "Told me he had big news tonight; it wasn't a stretch. See you Monday?"

With a nod goodbye, Rose went back to her drink. With a glance towards the lovebirds, she decided that bar was a much safer bet than joining Albus and Orion again, who were now clearly going between flirting and having whispered arguments. A common occurrence, if she was being honest.

The night was largely uneventful, not that she minded; she wasn't in the mood to be at home. She chatted with a few strangers, and a man who was decent-looking flirted with her for a while, but he was a bit boring; besides, she felt nothing over her heart, not even a little pinch on her skin, that would indicate the tattoo was forming on her chest and that he was her soulmate. And if he wasn't her soulmate, she wasn't interested.

Strange, how having a soulmate had absolutely ruined flirting for her.

One-night stands were still on the table, she supposed. But what if she fell for a one-night stand who wasn't her soulmate? Besides the stupidity of that entire situation—having to fess up to having feelings after agreeing to no strings attached—she didn't need another unrequited love. One was enough.

Said unrequited love was across the bar, getting a little redder with every drink, laughing and hanging out with his friends. She sneaked enough peeks at him throughout the night to know it wasn't healthy for her to keep doing this.

Somehow, she had to figure out a way to stop falling for him a little more every time she saw him.

So, maybe Rose had found out who she thought the love of her life was actually not her soulmate. She'd found out that her best friend may have slept with the captain to get on the Puddlemere United team, which made no sense, but she would have to investigate it anyway to keep her job. Her leg had been aching like hell lately and she was the tiniest bit hungover.

Today was bound to be better. As long as she didn't have to go to a Quidditch pitch.

Which was why she greeted Scorpius on Monday morning with, "What if we do a different story?"

"Good morning to you, too," he said dryly, sliding Rose's coffee across his desk onto hers. He sat back and took a long sip from his own mug before meeting her eyes; he looked exhausted. "What other story are you thinking of?"

"I dunno. There's got to be something."

"Something that's not about your best mate, you mean," he said. "What happened to our plan to get to the pitch during the Puddlemere team's practice?"

The last thing Rose wanted was to be near the pitch, even if she wasn't playing. Not that she wanted to tell Scorpius this. "Emily's story has already been reported. We're probably better off finding a new story."

"In a gossip rag," he countered, "and even if that's true, stories don't come out of thin air. We need a better story if we're going to get away with it."

Rose shifted her gaze to her coffee. "I'm not going to use my connections to write an article."

"If you're not going to go to where the action is," he pointed out gently, "then how will you find a story, even if it's not about Wood?"

He had a point.

Scorpius was particularly sharp and experienced with these things, which was both admirable and incredibly annoying.

And so Rose found herself at the Puddlemere Quidditch pitch, stomach twisted, notebook in hand. It wasn't that The Accident happened here—that was at the Wasps' pitch, during a game—but she hadn't been able to bring herself back to anything since it happened. The thought of getting on a broom made her want to vomit, even though it had previously felt like home. The pitch had felt like home.

The pitch felt a little more like hell now.

Scorpius didn't seem to have noticed at all; he looked completely in his element, strolling ahead to grab seats in the stands for them. Rose watched as he greeted the captain like an old friend, shaking his hand and giving him a one-armed hug. Were they old friends? Rose racked her brain, but the only thing she remembered about the captain was his name—Andrew Davis—and that he won Puddlemere the England Cup a few years ago.

"And this is Rose Weasley, you must be familiar," Scorpius said as she had finally gotten up the steps and approached them. "She's working with me at Quidditch World."

"Hello," he said, shaking her hand, "I was just reminding Malfoy of the shit player he was before I helped him out."

"I was a first year," Scorpius explained.

"Got you on the team in your second year, didn't I?" Davis grinned. "I haven't heard from you lately, Weasley—not since that little tumble, anyway—"

"She's helping me out with this story," Scorpius said smoothly, gesturing for them to all sit down, Davis situated in between them. Rose's shin muscles seemed to sigh in relief. "You've seen that fluff piece on you and Emily Wood, right?"

Davis shrugged good-heartedly, eyes back on the players in the air. "People will say what they want to say. Wood's a good Chaser. We needed one."

"Any chance you'd want to clear the air?" Rose asked.

"It seems like all that would do is bring it all up again." Davis stood up suddenly, narrowing his eyes at his team. "Looks like I've got to go over some plays. See you around, Malfoy, Weasley?"

Then he was side-stepping Scorpius and practically running down to the pitch.

As Scorpius scooted beside her, Rose found Emily in the air, who hadn't noticed Rose in the stands. She didn't seem any different; her brunette hair was twisted into a braid as always, she had on her I-hate-drills expression and barely seemed to notice Davis as he got down to the pitch. She didn't act like someone who fancied Davis at all.

The Emily she knew never would have slept with a captain to get on a team.

"I didn't know you knew the Puddlemere captain," Rose said quietly.

"Family friend. He's the only Quidditch person I really know. Besides you, anyway." Scorpius stretched his legs out over the seat in front of him. "He mentored me in my first year. I practically begged him to teach me to fly."

"I don't remember seeing you play, to be honest."

"I was a reserve, never really got on the field. I quit after that." Scorpius shrugged at Rose's consolatory look. "Honestly, I kind of realized that I liked Quidditch more when I wasn't actually playing it. I joined the school newspaper and it fit better."

"You don't say," Rose joked.

"Have you played since… you know?"

Rose shook her head, attempting to put the actual Accident out of her mind. She fell quiet, thinking of the team comradery at the Wasps—that's what she missed the most, if she thought about it. Not that she wanted to think about it.

But for a moment, she looked out onto the pitch and saw herself—the stands full of cheering fans, the wind whistling in her ears, the Bludger coming straight for her. And then when she turned sharply, thinking she got away from it, the end of her broom was put right in its path. Immediate terror. Then, somehow, blinding pain to her elbow, falling, landing on her shin and everything going to black.

His hand covered hers.

"Anyway," Scorpius said, clearing his throat, "that was strange, yes? With Davis?"

"Was it?" she asked, reluctantly pulling her hand away as she scrambled to get her notebook open. She knew he'd held her hand out of support—purely platonic, of course—but she couldn't look him in the eye anymore. "He basically confirmed that it wasn't true."

"No, he didn't," he pointed out. "He said, 'People will say what they want to say.' That's hardly denying it, is it?"

"I suppose not…" Rose thought for a moment. "But then again, no one blamed him in the original story, did they? They pointed the finger at Emily, just because she's young. He doesn't really have a reputation to clear."

Scorpius tugged the notebook from her and jotted down as he spoke, "Good point. Because she's a woman. Right?"

Rose felt her ears heat with frustration, but appreciated his understanding. "Exactly."

"Do you think she would sleep with the captain to get on the team?"

"No." She looked sharply at him. "And she doesn't need to."

"I think you're right." Scorpius nodded to the pitch, where the players were doing a drill. "Maybe Barnes will let us get away with disproving the gossip, but it's not a big story. Not enough for readership."

Rose groaned. "I'd really rather not question Emily."

"Not that it's any of my business," he began, handing her notebook back to her, "but why are you so opposed to speaking with her? Aren't you close?"

She glared at him. "Would you sell out Orion to the press? Or Albus?"

"Maybe," he said sheepishly, "if they came out on the good side of the story."

"Unbelievable," she muttered. "In either case, we haven't spoken in a long time. She wasn't a fan of my retirement from Quidditch."

He frowned. "You were injured—still injured, in fact. And even if you weren't, that shouldn't make a difference whether she speaks to you or not."

"Yes, well…" Rose sat up suddenly as she noticed another player, one who had been previously circling the pitch for the Snitch—Puddlemere's reserve Seeker. "Wait—-is that Adam Bell?"

If every step was a dull pain shooting up her shin, waiting in place—especially on the pitch—was somehow worse.

Scorpius had stayed behind, up in the stands; not many people knew that Rose was working for Quidditch World, and unless Davis had told his team she was there, Adam Bell probably wouldn't know Rose was here to get information. Hopefully.

She stayed hidden behind a pillar, leaning on her good leg and observing Emily and Davis interact as they walked towards the change rooms. It all seemed very tame: no lingering touches, they weren't standing close together… they didn't even share a secret smile. Something in Rose's chest loosened.

Sure, they didn't speak anymore. Yes, it was painful to think about their currently distant friendship—though Rose was sure that once things had blown over, they would be close again—but she hated to think what Emily could be tied up in. Especially if it was newsworthy; Rose wished she could help her friend, not report on it.

Current friends or not, she felt incredibly guilty about the whole ordeal.

Luckily, Adam was lagging behind, struggling to get the Snitch to stay in its case. Rose remembered that he was a decent Seeker while at Hogwarts, a few years older than her, generally friendly to others. It wouldn't be so bad interviewing him—she'd interviewed a few Quidditch players by now.

Only, she'd never interviewed them about, as Scorpius would say, gossip.

"Adam," she called out, emerging from behind the pillar once Emily and Davis had disappeared. He fumbled, nearly losing the Snitch but catching it before it flew off. Rose reached him, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"It's only my job," he joked, reaching out for a hug. "It's been so long, Rose, how are you? The Wimbourne Wasps aren't the same without you, are they?"

"I guess not," she replied, blushing. "How's Puddlemere? Having a good season so far?"

He grinned. "As good as we could've hoped for. Are you coming back after the season, then?"

"No… I, um…" This was why it was always awkward to speak to Quidditch players, especially ones she used to know; they always assumed she would continue playing if they said the right thing. "I think I've retired for good."

"That's just too bad, you know," he said, finally forcing the Snitch into its case. He locked it up, even as it shook back and forth from the Bludgers. "You were a real talent out there."

"Well, you've got Emily, now." Rose bit her lip. Could she really do this? Was she a terrible friend?

"Right, right," he said, squinting up at her before standing. "She's great. The Wasps lost two of their best players."

"I was just wondering… I've been worried about her, we've lost touch, you know…" Rose stumbled for words; this part of her job—the lying part—was something she was still working at. "Are the rumours true? About her and Davis?"

Adam looked a fair bit more suspicious than he did a moment ago. "I don't really engage in the rumour mill, Rose."

"It's just my boss," she blurted out. Oh good, now she'd really mucked this up. "For Quidditch World, he wants me to look into it for a story… I don't really want to, but it was that or getting fired, is it not?"

"I suppose," he said, taken aback.

Yup, Rose was a terrible, awful friend.

"I want her to come out on top of this," Rose explained further, with no ideas as to why her instincts were pushing her towards telling the truth. "I hate seeing her name dragged through the mud. And hopefully my boss will get off my back after that."

To Rose's relief, Adam's expression softened. "Listen, I get that you two were good mates. You're just trying to be a good friend here."

"Yes, exactly," Rose expressed, wishing she could believe it.

"But if I'm being honest…" He ran a hand through his already windswept, sandy blond hair. "I think the rumours are true."

"I—what?"

"They're always whispering to each other," he said, glancing around as though they might appear behind him. "Maybe they're just friends, but… they weren't friends a few months ago. I never saw her at any of the parties. It seems off to me."

Rose stood and stared, unable to speak.

"Anyway, I think I should head out," he said, offering a small smile. "Good luck with the story, yeah?"

And with that, he jogged away, taking away any semblance of understanding Rose might have had about the situation.

A/N: Hi hi! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for reading :)

Next: painting & pranks.