14/09/2018
No Big Deal
Wrote a letter to my grown-up self
Saying thanks for knowing when to give up
Held my breath for a one of a kind
But what I got wasn't worth my time
Creature of habit, torn leather jacket
Chase the white rabbits
I think something's wrong
She hadn't come downstairs with the intention of listening. She had wanted a cup of tea, and yet, as she reached the bottom floor, she heard their voices.
They were in the living and the door had been closed. The very fact that she couldn't make out any of their conversation told her they were trying their best not to be overheard. This of course meant it was something important.
She crept across the passageway and knew before the door, putting her ear to the keyhole.
'I can't believe you,' came her mother's anguished voice from within the living room.
'Kingsley asked me to,' said her father.
'Well, he shouldn't have.'
'It would only be for a little while. Until all this is cleared up.'
'Who knows how long that will be?'
'Well, don't you think for that reason I should give it a go?'
'You have two children.'
'Nothing's going to happen. It's not combat, just investigation. Observation at the absolute most.'
'Ron.'
'Hermione…'
She heard it too late. Her mother's footsteps coming towards the door. She straightened up just as her mother opened the door.
Hermione seemed surprised by the sight of her, but she quickly composed her face into a frown. 'What are you doing?' she asked.
'I can't find my potions book,' Rose invented.
Hermione was unconvinced. Folding her arms, she said, 'Well, it's not in here.'
'Okay.' Rose turned quickly away.
'Rose,' said her mother, and she looked back reluctantly to meet her eye. 'I'd appreciate it if you didn't eavesdrop.'
'I wasn't.'
'Rose.'
'I just need my potions book,' she insisted. 'I need to pack.'
Hermione sighed and shook her head. 'Well, go on, then.'
She turned away. She had lost any interest in a cup of tea, and so she stated back up the stairs to her bedroom.
The Potter household had never been one for deadlines. He had been woken by his mother pounding on his bedroom door at quarter to eleven, demanding he get out of bed and begin to pack, before she stomped down the corridor to badger his sister.
A letter had arrived the day after the memorial, advising parents that new rules had been set in place regarding students' return to the castle. Each household would be given a fifteen-minute opening in which their children would be able to be Floo into a designated fireplace within the castle.
Packing didn't take long. He poured an armful of jumpers and trousers into his trunk, tossed whatever books he could find inside, and shut the lid. He didn't have any use for exams, and so what use did he have for studying?
With Ginny still preoccupied with forcing Lily to get organised, he crept downstairs. He presumed he had a ten-minute window in which he could have a cup of coffee and a cigarette before his mother would come looking for him.
Stepping into the kitchen, he found that he wasn't alone. Albus was at the table, picking at bowl of porridge. He looked up at his brother when he heard his footsteps.
'Hi,' said Albus, over the sound of Ginny and Lily bickering with each other from upstairs.
'Morning.'
James crossed to the stovetop and set the coffee pot to boil.
'Dad left us a letter,' said Albus. James looked back at him over his shoulder, finding Albus gesturing to a slip of parchment lying next to his bowl of porridge. 'He had to go to work early.'
'Lucky him,' said James.
'You want to read it?'
James didn't reply. Listening to the faint sound of yelling from upstairs, he drew out his tin of tobacco. With his back to Albus, he began rolling himself a cigarette. He had only a few more pinches of his stale tobacco to get through, and then he'd invest in a new tin.
Over the last few days Albus had developed the need to fill silence within the house. It was an irritating habit, James thought, but in the three days between Christmas and the memorial in which Albus did nothing but glare at him, he had been surprised to find that he much preferred it when they were on speaking terms. Albus's newest bid for conversation was, 'What are Mum and Lily yelling about?'
'Oh, the usual,' James replied. 'The listlessness of life. The inevitability of death. Very profound, aren't they?'
'Are you rolling a cigarette?'
'Yeah, you want one?'
'No, of course not!'
'Thought I'd offer, Ducky.' He tucked the fresh cigarette behind his ear and got a mug from the cupboard, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 'If Ginny comes looking for me tell her I'm up in the attic finding a coat.'
Albus rolled his eyes, but didn't protest. He got to his feet and crossed to the sink to wash his bowl. With his brother's back to the room, James snatched up the parchment from the desk and headed towards the door and into the backyard.
It had been three days since the last snowfall. The last sheet of snow had frozen and melted and frozen again to form a sad, grey overcoat across the paddock and the naked branches of the birch trees.
James trudged along the pathway from the backdoor and sat himself down on the step of the owlery, igniting his cigarette. He took a deep drag before unfolding his father's letter.
Dear Lily, Al, and James,
I'm sorry I won't be there to see you off, but I'll write to each of you properly this evening. I hope the term treats you all well and that exams are manageable for you both, James and Al.
I'm sorry about the miserable Christmas we've all had, but it's nevertheless wonderful to have you all home. I hope that I'll be around more when you're home for the summer. England's tipped for the cup and Germany's hosting. It would be great if we could all go together.
Please all look out for yourselves and each other.
Love to all of you,
Dad
James folded the letter away. He felt somehow embarrassed to have read it. His father put things in such simple terms. Miserable Christmas – it was as if he was commenting on the weather.
He thought, as he dragged on his cigarette and looked out over their morbid backyard, that perhaps simple terms were the only way his father managed to align things in his mind.
And suddenly James's head was full of Finlay. His hands in the pockets of his green dress robes as he rounded the corner of Alienor Hall. The light in his dark eyes as he smoked the cigarette James had rolled for him.
James tried to unite the vision of his best friend with the Auror Office robe's and the scars across his father's face. It was a difficult thing to think about but he realised, quite painfully, that it wasn't impossible to picture.
They had envisioned, since they were very young, their lives after Hogwarts: drinking and travelling and laughing. But now their trajectories seemed to be diverging. Finlay wanted to be an auror, and James didn't want to be anything.
We were friends in school, he imagined himself saying one day. We used to be friends.
He wondered, in a year's time, or five years' time, or ten years' time, what would have become of he and Finlay. He could imagine Finlay scarred and world-weary, but he couldn't imagine himself anywhere. He could think of things to keep himself occupied for the next few years: Dubrovnik and Berlin and Istanbul. He could stretch that out for perhaps a decade, he reasoned, but after that he saw nothing. He realised he didn't much care what was to come after that.
'Put that out.'
He looked up to see his mother standing on the steps of the backdoor. Her cheeks were flushed from her confrontation with Lily and she had her cloak on, meaning their departure would be imminent.
'But it makes me look cool,' he said to her.
She pretended not to have heard him. She stepped down onto the sodden lawn and crossed to the owlery to stand over him, her arms folded.
'You know you're supposed to be back at school in ten minutes?'
'Yes, Ginny, I remember. I'm packed. I'm ready to go when Lily stops fucking around.'
'How long have you been smoking?'
'Time's an illusion.'
'Did you read the letter Dad left?'
In reply, James raised the cigarette to his lips in one hand and, with the other, passed the letter to Ginny.
She took it from him. Frowning, as if concentrating deeply, she folded it back into a square and slid it into the pocket of her cloak. 'He's sorry he couldn't be here to see you off.'
'Doesn't bother me.'
'Well, it bothers him.'
'He's sweet, isn't he?'
Ginny paused, watching as he smoked, before she said, 'Did you read what he said?'
'Yeah.'
'About looking after yourself?'
'Yes, Ginny.'
'Well, there's something I want to talk to you about.'
'Ooh, this sounds fun.
'I'd really like it if you listened, and I'd like it even more if you'd take my suggestion into consideration, okay?'
'I'll give it a go.'
'I don't want you leaving the castle this term, okay?' she informed him, and before he could protest she continued 'Hogsmeade visits excluded obviously, but please - whatever you and Finlay do when you sneak out, just promise me you'll do it in the school grounds. The castles big enough for you to get away with whatever it is you want to get away with.'
James considered the offer, before asking, 'Are you nurturing my vices, Mum?'
'I don't want you leaving the castle,' she said again, very calmly. 'It's not safe anymore. You've got one term left - one term. And then you'll never have to be anywhere you don't want to be ever again, okay?'
'So I can skip Christmas dinner next year?'
'If you make it through this term you can do whatever you like.'
'I'll hold you to that.'
'Thank you. Now hurry up, please.'
Ginny turned away and strode briskly back to the house. James toyed with his cigarette butt, wishing he had more left to postpone returning to the kitchen, but he would have to accept that fact that it was finished. He tossed the butt away onto the icy pathway. It hissed as it was extinguished against the melted snow, and he got to his feet and returned to the house.
Albus was still at the kitchen table. He had apparently been waiting for him; he looked around expectantly as James shut the door.
'I told her you were in the attic,' said Albus immediately.
'Course you did.'
'I did! She saw you through the window.'
'You're useless, Al.'
'I'm useless? Why can't you smoke somewhere subtler?'
'And to think I was about to go transfigure your bed.'
Albus's eyes swelled. 'You weren't?'
'I was.'
'Please, James.'
'Don't worry, Al, you won't need a double bed,' he said resolutely. 'I'm sure Mei will have dropped you before we come home in the summer.'
Albus glared at him. 'Why do you think that?'
'Oh, you'll ruin it somehow,' said James lightly. With a wave of his wand he cleaned away the dregs in his coffee cup and returned it to the kitchen cabinet. 'Hurry up, Ducky. Professor Sinistra's expecting us.'
Climbing out of the fireplace of the transfiguration room, she was met by the face of a man she had never seen before. He wasn't altogether unpleasant looking, but the contemptuous look he gave her made her cautious. As she stepped out of the grate to allow Hugo to Floo through, the stranger moved towards her, a quill and sheet of parchment in hand.
'Names,' he said to her.
She set down her trunk, eyeing the man's quill. 'Rose Weasley.'
Hugo set his trunk down and joined Rose's side. 'Hugo Granger.'
'Year levels?
'Pardon?' said Rose.
He sighed impatiently. 'What year are you in?'
'I'm second and she's fifth,' said Hugo.
The man looked tiredly at Rose. 'I need you to answer for yourselves.'
'Fifth,' confirmed Rose.
'Which house are you each in?'
'We're both in Gryffindor,' replied Hugo.
The man looked back to Rose. 'Is that right?'
'Yes, that's right.'
'And your mother's maiden name?'
'Granger,' said Rose.
'Granger,' chorused Hugo, standing on his tiptoes in an attempt to look at what the man was scribbling onto the parchment. 'What are you writing down?'
'I'm seeing if your answers match what we have on our list.'
'Why?' asked Hugo.
'At the request of your head mistress. I'm sure she'll explain it further.'
Hugo looked excited. 'Are you an auror, then?'
'I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Other students will be arriving.'
'Are there going to be aurors in all the classrooms now?' pressed Hugo.
Rolling her eyes, Rose seized hold of her brother and snatched her trunk back up. 'Come on.'
'Does that mean the school's going to get attacked?' Hugo asked her as they left the classroom. He sounded far too captivated by the idea.
'No, it means the school is just as paranoid as the Ministry is,' she told him.
Their ascent to Gryffindor tower led them past a number of other aurors, stationed at the bottom of stairwells and at the door to classrooms. From within the rooms they passed they could see other students climbing out of fireplaces to be met by an auror armed with a quill, dotingly ticking off their names and answers.
'What's the new password?' Hugo asked her as they approached the Fat Lady.
'Merry weather,' said Rose.
'Sadly not,' sighed the Fat Lady, and she swung forward to allow them inside.
Hugo clambered in first, dragging his trunk after him, which he dropped immediately at the sight of his friends. Rolling her eyes, Rose kicked it away from the mouth of the portrait hole to allow herself to climb through, before she found herself engulfed by a face-full of long, black hair.
'Oh, Rosie,' sighed Chandra.
Held in Chandra's iron grip, she let go off her trunk and did her best to pat Chandra on the back. 'How was France?'
'Oh, it was awful. Awful. Lavender and Lydia are just horrible. And then of course when – when it happened they shut down the international portkeys so we couldn't get home, and Dad was really upset we couldn't go to the memorial, and then Mum was saying it was better we didn't go because it's obviously not safe, and then they got into this big fight and… oh, Rosie, I missed you.'
'I missed you too,' said Rose, managing to extricate herself enough to cross over to a free settee, Chandra clinging to her arm. 'Did you get interrogated by the aurors when you arrived?'
'Oh, yes,' said Chandra as they sat down. 'They're very nice, aren't they?'
'Mine was a grumpy twat.'
'Oh, dear. I suppose you can't blame them, can you? They must be so upset after…' Chandra suddenly looked on the verge of tears, and she asked in a small voice, 'What was the service like?'
'Depressing,' said Rose. 'I'm not going to any more of them.'
'Oh, surely there won't be any more, will there?'
Rose chose to ignore this, and instead said, 'Scorpius Malfoy was there.'
Chandra's eyes widened. 'Really? But the Prophet said he dad had been taken into questioning. I didn't think they'd want to go.'
'It was just him and his mum,' said Rose. 'Remember how I told you we saw the Slytherins sneaking back into the castle when we went looking for James in November?'
Chandra nodded.
'Well, I'd forgotten, but Malfoy came and said it to Al and I. The Slytherins had been talking about someone named August, and they said that they wouldn't be seeing him again until Christmas.'
'Christmas? But… you don't think…'
'Malfoy does,' said Rose, 'and he's convinced Albus of it too.'
'But what can he tell the aurors?' said Chandra. 'What if they don't believe you?'
'That's the thing, they won't believe us,' said Rose. 'But I know Albus has already convinced himself that he can catch them. He can be so stupid sometimes.'
Chandra looked uncertain. 'Oh, I always thought he was quite smart.'
'He's smart, but he's stupid.'
Chandra seemed to choose to accept this, before she smiled again. 'I saw in Witch Weekly that Teddy and Victoire are getting married!'
'That was in Witch Weekly?'
'Yes, she was wearing her ring at the memorial. That's so exciting!'
Rose rolled her eyes. 'Yes, it's definitely news worthy.'
'There were a lot of pictures, very nice ones of James,' said Chandra wistfully. 'And I think I saw you in the background of a few.'
'Don't tell my parents that. My dad was about a second away from hitting some guy who spoke to Lily and I.'
'Oh, dear. I suppose your mum and dad are worried, aren't they?'
'They're always worried. What about yours?'
Chandra sighed. 'Mum is, definitely. She's been looking at her tealeaves all week. She says they're not making any sense.'
'That's no good.'
'No, and Mars is coming to retrograde. Not to mention there's a new moon tomorrow night.'
'I didn't know new moons were a bad thing.'
'Well, they're not supposed to be, but it means there's something beginning, and what with Mars and all…' Chandra sighed. 'Well, you can see why my mum's worried.'
Rose was saved from replying by the portrait hole being pushed open. Julian Jiang and Linus Stebbins gave calls of greeting as they saw James clambering through. He gave the common room a long, appraising look, tossing his trunk aside, before crossing the room to join to dorm-mates.
Lily followed in after him, her friends in tow. They were talking briskly, recounting their Christmas breaks to each other, and didn't stop to bid anyone hello before they hurried off to their dormitory.
Finally, Albus came through, dragging his trunk after him. Rose raised her hand to catch his attention and, looking relived, he came over to meet them. Chandra pulled into a hug before he collapsed down onto the armchair across from them.
'Did you two see all those weird people downstairs at the fireplaces?' was the first thing he said to them.
They told him they had and with a shake of his head he said, 'What do you think they want?'
'Albus, they're aurors,' said Rose impatiently. 'It's for security.'
Albus looked alarmed. 'But there were dozens of them! Do you think the school's in danger?'
'I'm sure they'll leave once everyone's back. Professor Sinistra is probably just being careful,' Rose reasoned.
'Albus, you look different,' said Chandra brightly, peering at him. 'Have you cut your hair?'
Albus raised a hand to give a dismal attempt at flattening his hair. 'No. Does it look bad?'
'No, you look nice,' said Chandra. 'Perhaps you've gotten taller.'
Albus seemed at a loss for how to respond, for he changed the subject. 'Did you have a good time in France?'
Chandra sighed. 'Not really. I don't much like being stuck with my sisters. I wish Lavender would hurry up and move out.'
Albus gave a sympathetic nod. 'Yeah. I reckon once James moves out things will be – er – quieter.'
Chandra sighed again, before asking seriously, 'How's Mei, Al?'
He nodded. 'Oh, good, I think. She's not Flooing in until the afternoon.'
'How was your visit to Aberdeen?' asked Chandra, and she lowered her voice, 'Did you share a room?'
'No, we didn't.'
Chandra looked disappointed. 'Oh. So you didn't… you know…'
'Well – er – not that night.'
Rose gave him a shrewd look. 'That night?'
'No.'
'So, was there another night?'
Albus gave a bashful shrug. 'I went over there on Christmas.'
Chandra's mouth fell open. 'So – so that's it? You did it?'
'Well… yeah.'
Chandra gave a squeal of delight and threw her arms around him. 'Oh, Al, that's so exciting!'
Albus, again, seemed unsure how to reply. He gave Chandra a one-armed hug. 'Er… thanks.'
'How was it?' asked Rose.
'Er… good, I hope.'
'Oh, I'm sure it was good, Al,' Chandra assured him. She slid to the edge of the settee, leaning as close as she could to him and said, 'So, do you love her?'
'Well, I – don't know.'
'You haven't told her you love her?'
'No… should I have?'
By the look on Chandra's face, it was clear that she believed he should. 'Well, if you don't want to…'
'It's not that I don't want to… it's just… do you think she expects me to? I mean, did Connor say he loved you before the first time you – before you started…'
'Having sex, Albus,' Rose finished. 'It's not taboo, you know?'
Chandra spared Albus from replying. 'Well, Connor's not like that, He's very… stoic. He doesn't need to tell me how he feels – I can tell. He's a Taurus, you see,' she said, as if both Albus and Rose should derive some crucial meaning from it. She gave a slow sigh. 'I'm so excited to see him. I brought him back some sage and chamomile.'
'Lucky boy,' said Rose.
Chandra gave a sudden gasp and clapped her hands together. 'Oh, that reminds me! I have presents for you both!'
Rose grimaced. 'Chandra, I told you not to buy me anything.'
'Oh, they're only small.' She jumped to her feet and dashed away up the stairs to their dormitory. When she returned, she was nursing in her hand two delicate slips of folded purple wrapping paper. She handed one to Albus and one to Rose.
Rose knew what it was before she opened it. Chandra gave the same present over and over again, under the guise of different supposed meanings. There was a draw in Rose's desk full of gemstones Chandra had gifted to her in solution to whatever turbulence was present.
Albus was looking far more uncertain. Rose knew that he had never been a recipient of one of Chandra's presents. He unwrapped the paper as delicately as he could, laying it against the leg of his trousers, easing back the wrappings to reveal a white, translucent crystal pendant. Rose tore back the wrappings of her own gift to reveal the same necklace.
She looked up into Chandra's wide, eager eyes. 'Oh, that's pretty,' she remarked.
'Oh… yeah… wow…' improvised Albus. 'Gosh, Chandra, I didn't get you a Christmas present.'
'Oh, it's not for Christmas,' said Chandra, suddenly very seriousness. 'I can't believe I didn't think to buy them for you both earlier – you need them. They're selenite, for protection.'
'Of course,' said Rose, tucking the necklace into her pocket. 'Thank you.'
'Yeah… I… wow…' Albus seemed unsure of how he was supposed to respond, and at the expectant look Chandra gave him he proceeded to slip the necklace around his neck, tucking the crystal beneath his sweater. Chandra beamed at him.
'Scorpius Malfoy.'
The name gave the auror an all too familiar stir. She looked up from her clipboard to eye him, her gaze darting over his blonde hair and his narrow, pointed face. He knew they looked alike: he didn't need to me reminded by the look of recognition on the woman's face.
'Malfoy,' she said, checking her clipboard with a tap of her quill. 'And your house and year level.'
'Ravenclaw. Fifth year.
'Mother's maiden name?'
Scorpius was sure she already knew it, but he answered anyway. 'Greengrass.'
The auror nodded approvingly. 'Alright, off you go. Straight up to your common room, if you don't mind.'
He hoisted off his trunk and strode out of the room. The beginning of term usually found the halls of Hogwarts buzzing with activity, but this evening they were deserted except for the aurors and the few students who had been scheduled for late arrivals. Scorpius was sure this was another adjustment for the heightened security.
He reached the door to Ravenclaw tower and the eagle-head doorknocker raised its beak to face him. 'Say my name and I am no more. What am I?'
'Silence,' said Scorpius. The door swung open and he dragged his trunk inside.
There was very little room to move. Ravenclaw's common room was generally only ever this loud or crowded after Quidditch wins, but with the corridors and school grounds off limits the students had no other choice than celebrate their reunions with friends in the midst of a hundred other people.
The older students were sharing around bottles of mead and fire whiskey, while about twenty separate games of exploding snap were being conducted by the younger students. It seemed that everyone was competing with everyone else to be the loudest and most exhilarated, which at least offered Scorpius the opportunity to get to his dormitory unnoticed.
He was disappointed to find it occupied. Connor Davies, Mori Akiyama, and Kienan Cornfoot all looked up as he entered. It seemed to take them a few seconds to remember to say hello, and Scorpius wondered if they had been talking about him before he arrived.
'Want a drink, mate?' asked Mori as he set down his trunk.
As much as he didn't want to speak to them, the goblets of mead they had in their hands seemed far too appealing. 'Sure.'
Mori filled him a goblet and passed it across the room. He thanked him and drank deeply. It was hard to describe the kind of relief that mead gave him, but it was a definite consolation.
'How was your break?' asked Connor. By the look on his face, Scorpius knew he was hoping for some sort of gossip.
'Fine,' said Scorpius, sipping his mead. 'Yours?'
'Yeah, pretty good. My parents were away so I had the house to myself. You go to the memorial?'
'Yeah.'
'Did your dad go?'
He took another gulp of mead before asking. 'No. Did yours?'
'Well, no,' said Connor. 'But my dad wasn't questioned about it, either.'
'Suppose that's true,' said Scorpius.
'Did you listen to the Harpies-Cannon game on the weekend, Scorpius?' asked Mori, as a means of intervening.
'No, I didn't.' He took a final gulp of his mead and set down his goblet. 'Thanks for the drink.'
'Have another,' said Connor, offering the bottle.
If Scorpius hadn't been so irritated, he may have been amused. He wondered how much mead Connor would be prepared to waste on him if he thought he could get him drunk enough to talk openly about his father.
'No thanks,' said Scorpius, getting to his feet. 'I should go see Zaina.'
'Oh, you're still together, are you?'
Scorpius decided it was best not to acknowledge this. He felt he didn't have a proper answer to give, anyway. He turned away and marched to the door.
He syatyed down the stairs, navigating his way around the entirety of Ravencaw's fourth years who were playing a giggly game of truth or dare, and crossed the crowded common room and stepped out of the common room. He didn't know what to do now; in spite of what he had told Connor, he knew Zaina's portkey wouldn't be arriving until the evening.
With no other options, he started down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower with the intention of going to the Quidditch pitch. He would rather use one of the school brooms than return to his common room and try to extricate himself from Connor again. The corridors were mainly quiet as he made his way downstairs, which gave him time to think, but he didn't particularly like thinking at the moment: it left him too much time to dwell on his mum's health and his dad being investigated.
How was he supposed to know if his mum was okay when he was so far from home? How could he trust them to tell him? He couldn't trust them: they hadn't told him back in August, so why would they tell him now?'
'Oh, hey.'
At the sound of this voice, he looked around: he had made it to the central staircase and started downstairs, and his path had met with the stairs that led to Gryffindor tower. Coming down the stairs was Albus Potter, his broomstick slung over his shoulder, wearing a smile.
'Hey,' said Scorpius. 'You heading down to the pitch?'
'Yeah, where are you off to?'
'The pitch.'
'Oh? You don't have your broom?'
Scorpius shrugged. 'Thought I'd rather use a school broom than have to go to my dorm and see Connor.'
Albus gave a sniff of laughter. 'Well, I mean, I don't have to come if you want the pitch to yourself.'
But Scorpius didn't want to be alone. He wanted something to distract him. 'No, course not. Come on.'
And they started down the stairs together, moving through the silent castle.
'So how was your break?' Albus asked lightly, and then he seemed to falter slightly. 'I mean ... your mum ...'
'She's fine,' said Scorpius quickly.
He didn't particularly feel like talking about his mother, but it seemed that his hurried response has been unconvincing.
Albus looked at him cautiously, peering at him, before he said slowly, 'Oh ... okay. So ... like ... she's getting better or ...'
'Yeah. She's pregnant again, so she's fine, I guess.'
He regretted saying that immediately; he hadn't really wanted to talk about his mum, because talking about it made it real. It seemed, however, that hearing this settled Albus slightly because he nodded.
'Oh, so that's good, right?' said Albus. 'I mean, she must be happy ...'
'Yeah, I guess,' said Scorpius quickly. 'Anyway, how was your break?'
Albus must have picked up on the sharpness in Scorpius's tone, because he hesitated briefly, before seeming to decide to move on. 'Oh, yeah, it was fine. I mean ... You know, it wasn't fine, with what happened at Christmas and everything, but you know ...'
Scorpius nodded slowly. 'I guess your dad's right in the middle of it, yeah?'
'Yeah, kind of. But I guess ... I guess your dad is too, right?'
Scorpius looked at Albus to see him peering back. He didn't particularly want to talk about his dad anymore than he wanted to talk about his mum, but he noticed Albus didn't ask with the kind of prying eagerness that Connor and Kienan did. It was more hesitant - like he was genuinely concerned.
'Yeah, but it's fine,' said Scorpius. 'He didn't do anything - so they won't find anything. Anyway, speaking of which ... 'So, have you spoken to your brother?'
'Er…'
'About the cloak?'
'Oh, er, not yet,' said Albus, waving his wand over the cauldron to get the potion stirring properly. 'I haven't found the right time, but now that we're back at school it shouldn't take too long. We should turn the heat down a bit.'
Scorpius ignored this, and so Albus went ahead and began mincing the frog spawn.
'We can't just wait around,' Scorpius insisted. 'You want more people to get killed?'
'No, of course not! But my brother is…'
'A git?'
'Well, yes, but he – he kind of likes knowing he has things I want. So if I go to him and ask for the cloak he'll just drag it out as long as possible. I need to find the right moment – make it like a random request.'
'And how do you intend to do that?'
Albus shrugged. 'I don't know, but … but I'll do it somehow.'
She had known it to be true, and yet it still managed to surprise her. It stung quite a great deal more than she expected it to. Albus had elected to eat breakfast at the Ravenclaw table, leaving she and Chandra to eat together. The Prophet arrived halfway through breakfast and she gave the front page a scan. With no new information on the Ministry investigation, she tossed it aside and poured herself more pumpkin juice.
'Are you going to read it, Rosie?' asked Chandra.
Rose told her she wasn't, and so Chandra pulled it towards her to flip to the horoscopes.
'I'd love to cut my hair, but I feel I best wait until the retrograde is – oh, what?'
Rose looked up at her. Chandra had stopped in the midst of slipping through the paper, dropping it down open on the third page. Rose read the headline upside down.
Ron Weasley re-joins Auror Office to aid Christmas Day Massacre investigation
Rose read the words slowly, steadying herself. She told herself it might read differently if she looked at it the right way up. She reached across the table for paper and dragged it back towards her. The words remained the same.
She had no reason to read the article. She had known all she needed to know when she had heard her parents over talking two days ago. The only difference now was that she had something to justify her anger: why hadn't he told her first?
But pretending to read gave her an excuse not to look into Chandra's wide, pitying eyes.
Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt confirmed today that Ron Weasley, 41, has stepped back into his position as senior investigator with the Auror Office after a fourteen-year hiatus.
Rumours have been swirling about Weasley's return to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) since he was spotted on Sunday evening in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic in the midst of its reconstruction.
Along with the Order of Merlin he received for his role in the Second Wizarding War, Weasley holds the highest record for case closures of any senior investigator in the Auror Office in the last sixty years.
She set the paper down: the article continued, but she didn't need to read anymore. Sliding the Prophet back across the table, she said to Chandra, 'There you go. You can check the horoscopes now.'
'You didn't tell me he was joining them again,' said Chandra.
'He didn't tell me.'
Chandra gaped at her. 'He – he didn't mention it?'
'No, not at all. So, what should I expect this week?'
Chandra looked like she wanted to say more, but slowly turned the pages to the back of the paper. 'Let's see,' she began in a small voice. 'Libra - you need to make sure not to misplace anything, Rosie.'
She had hoped, rather indulgently, that the new auror presence might have rendered the prefect patrols redundant. She stayed late in the common room that evening, ignoring the Transfiguration essay she had waiting in favour of a book she had received from her grandmother for Christmas.
When there were only five minutes left until she was intended to be on duty, she was feeling as if she might have gotten away with it, until Lucy came in through the portrait hole and spotted her.
'What are you doing here?' Lucy demanded.
Rose looked up at her. 'I live here.'
'You're on patrol tonight! It's five minutes to ten!'
'I thought the aurors were patrolling.'
'They've left now that everyone's arrived back from the break. The Auror Office can't afford to use its staff to do our jobs, Rose.'
Rose set down her book, sighing. 'I'm sure Malfoy can patrol on his own.'
'Rose, go,' ordered Lucy. 'I can have your Hogsmeade privileges revoked, you know?'
Rose thought this was a sinking quite low, but she couldn't think of any more excuses. Rolling her eyes, she left Lucy and returned her book to her dormitory, dawdling as long as she could as she pulled on her cloak. When she came back down to the common room, Lucy was at the portrait hole, waiting for her with her arms folded.
'I think I can manage by myself, Lucy,' said Rose.
'I'll be checking with Scorpius to make sure you turned up,' Lucy warned her.
'Glad you have faith in me.' And she passed Lucy, climbing through the portrait hole.
The corridors through the castle were deserted. It seemed that perhaps, with the aurors' recent departure and the attack on the ministry still fresh in everyone's mind, even the usual stragglers may have been discouraged from dawdling after curfew.
The ministry seemed determined not to acknowledge the suggestion of war that had been raised at Christmas, and yet it was all the Prophet was reporting on. Speculation and hounding of Wizengamot members were sprawled across the headlines as journalists hoped both to be told there was nothing to worry about but also to sell papers.
She wondered at what point the ministry would no longer be able to pretend there was nothing to acknowledge. Would it take another murder? Another attack? Outright warfare in the streets? She knew that was how it had happened last time: there was no war on paper, only in actuality.
But, she knew, that if the ministry had been able to convince her father to re-join the investigative team that there had to be some urgency.
As she rounded the corner to the first-floor landing, she could see the tall, thin figure of Scorpius Malfoy. He was leaning up against the window sill, silhouetted against the coloured glass. There was very little light coming in but she could see him turn to look at her as he heard her footsteps, his preect's badge glistening on the front of his robes. He seemed unsurprised to see her: Lucy must have already informed about the change in patrol schedule.
'What kept you?' he said when she reached him.
'What do you mean?' she replied.
'Well, you're late.'
'By about three minutes.'
'We have a route to follow. If we're late to start then we're late to finish.'
'You're fun, aren't you?'
He gave her a withering look. 'No offence, but you're not the best company in the world. Excuse me if I have other things I'd rather be doing.'
'Well, perhaps we should stop dawdling and get on with it.'
'Great.'
'Excellent.'
'After you.' He gestured down the passageway, motioning her to proceed. She started forward, rolling her eyes.
They walked in silence along their scheduled route. It wasn't until they had reached the second floor that either of them spoke.
'So, has Albus spoken to his brother about the cloak?'
She considered ignoring this, but from the corner of her eye she could see him watching her expectantly. She thought it best to put the matter to rest as soon as possible. 'I don't know and I don't care enough to talk about it.'
She saw him frown. 'Isn't that why you got your cousin to switch us?'
Rose turned to look at him. 'Excuse me?'
'Lucy told me I had to start patrolling with you.'
'Yes, evidently. That's why we're both here.'
'Oh, look, don't try to be smart. Why'd you ask her to switch us if you didn't want to talk about the cloak?'
'You think I asked us to switch?'
'Well, why else am I wasting my evening with you?'
'God, Malfoy, don't flatter yourself. I had nothing to do with this. I have no interest in spending my free time stalking the Slytherins with you and Albus.'
'So why did she switch us?'
'It's not a matter of me wanting to patrol with you, but more a matter of Mei Zhao not wanting to patrol with me.'
Scorpius had no response to this. They continued up through the ascending corridors, trudging along the route that had been assigned to them. They had made it to the fourth floor in silence before, much to Rose's disappointment, Scorpius spoke again.
'Why doesn't Mei want to patrol with you?'
Rose gave a low sigh and looked towards him. She didn't want to talk to him, and she had been hoping the feeling would be mutual. He had a snide look on his face, and she suspected he was only asking her in an attempt to irk her.
'Why do you care?' she asked.
'Jesus. Do you want to walk around in silence for three hours?'
She hesitated. She was far too prideful to admit the real reason Mei didn't want to patrol with her: because she had been inquiring about Scorpius's movements. Instead she said to him, 'We don't get along.'
'But she's going out with Albus.'
'Unfortunately.'
'Unfortunately for him or for her?'
'Unfortunately for me.'
He laughed at this. She thought it might have been the first time she had ever heard him laugh; high and forced and pompous. 'You can't be happy that they're happy?' he asked her.
'Perhaps if I thought they made a good couple I'd be fine with it. I don't think they even know each other.'
'And what you think is most important, of course.'
'Is this making you think less of me?'
'I didn't think much of you to begin with.'
'Exactly. That's why I don't understand why you care.'
'I'm just making conversation.'
'Well, make it better.'
'Alright. Is it true your father's been brought on to investigate the attack on the Ministry?'
'Is it true you father's the one who did it?'
This was enough to shut him up. The smug look on his face disappeared. He looked at her darkly, and she knew he wanted to bite back, but he managed to settle upon saying to her, 'I wouldn't know.'
'And I wouldn't know about my father,' she said.
That seemed to put the matter to rest. He made no further attempt to speak to her as they started up the long spiral staircase that led to the astronomy tower. It was the tallest tower in the castle, separated from any dormitories or teachers' quarters by several floors, and therefore a popular place for dawdlers where they knew they would not be overheard.
She knew, indignant as she was, that she ought not to have mentioned his father, but then he shouldn't have mentioned hers either.
She didn't want to think about it, but nor did she want anyone to know that she had been thinking about it at all. The thought of the Prophet article made something within her sting; the conversation she had overheard between her parents the night before they came back to school played on repeat in her head. It would have been so simple for him to simply have told her the truth.
And yet she found it easier to be angry with her mother. It was her mother who had promised to be honest with her. But hadn't she promised to do the same?
When they reached the top of the astronomy tower, Scorpius pushed the door open and stepped out onto the balcony. He let the door swing shut behind him and she had to throw out an arm to stop it hitting her in the face.
'Thanks,' she said to him.
He looked back at her, eyebrows raised. 'Do you really want me to hold the door open for you? That's a bit archaic.'
'It's common decency.'
He rolled his eyes and turned away from her to survey the tower. It was the first prefect patrol on which Rose had ever seen it deserted. She supposed the biting cold did nothing to make it an appealing rendezvous, but it was a clear night, and she couldn't help but admire the sliver of silver moon reflected against the black, shimmering lake.
And all at once she was hit with an image of pond in the centre of the overgrown backyard of Pembroke Road. Her father had taught her to skim stones across it. It seemed very far away, thinking of that time before she had come to Hogwarts. Her mother had worked so much and her days had been occupied entirely by her father. It was strange to think that those memories were her own; it was like viewing a scene from somebody else's life, and suddenly she wished more than anything to be back in London.
'New moon,' said Scorpius.
Rose had almost forgotten he was there. She glanced at him to find him staring across over the lake: she wondered vaguely if he was trying to be civil. It was a pointless observation for anything other than civility, after all.
'Yeah,' she said, 'and Mars is in retrograde.'
Scorpius looked at her and she wondered why she had said it. She supposed it had been her own attempt at being civil. Knowing this embarrassed her, but she decided to try to look assured.
'I never took you for a divination enthusiast,' he said.
'I'm not,' she said, and when he continued to frown at her she elaborated. 'Chandra talks about it endlessly.'
Scorpius gave another of his harsh laughs. 'Of course she does.'
Rose didn't like the way he said this. Choosing not to encourage him, she turned back towards the door to the staircase. She stepped through the door, not bothering to hold it open for him, but she heard him catch it and start down the staircase after her.
From behind her he said, 'I don't know why you're friends with that girl.'
'I don't know why you're friends with Connor Davies and Kienan Cornfoot. They're idiots.'
'I know they are. We're not friends. We just share a dormitory. Chandra Thomas, on the other hand... she's the only person I ever see you talking to other than Albus. I would have thought you'd despise her.'
'Why would I despise her?'
'Because you're an intellectual snob and she's an idiot.'
At this she looked over her shoulder. He was several steps higher than she, looking very pleased with himself, and she knew it was because he knew she was annoyed.
'You think she's an idiot just because she likes divination?' she said.
'Well, that certainly doesn't help, but she'd be an idiot regardless.'
'How many times have you ever even spoken to her?'
'I don't need to. I've had classes with her for five years. She's painfully dim. All I ever hear her talking about is shoes and who she's sleeping with.'
'A girl sleeping with people doesn't make her stupid,' Rose snapped. 'And she has far more interesting things to say than you do.'
'I'll have you know I'm very interesting.'
'Stupid haircuts can't compensate for a personality,' she said, and she turned away and continued down the spiral staircase. She managed to make it to the last step before he spoke again.
'Look, Thomas is nice enough,' he said to her. 'All I meant is that you guys seem like odd friends.'
'I don't want to talk about this,' she told him.
'What? Does it bother you?'
'Everything about you bothers me.'
'Really? Don't you have anything better to worry about?'
'Not when you're constantly pestering me,' she said. 'We have to patrol together. That doesn't mean we have to talk to each other.'
'That's not very mature. I'm just making conversation. I was trying to be polite.'
She gave a sharp laugh. 'Oh, really? You're doing wonderfully at it.'
'At least I'm trying,' he said. 'I'm not happy about this either, alright? I don't find you nearly as impressive as you find yourself.'
'You are such a hypocrite.'
'That's a big word, Weasley.'
'Oh, shut up,' she snarled. 'I'm not wasting my time with you. You can keep patrolling if you like. I've had enough.'
'Weasley…'
She turned away from him.
'Weasley, wait.'
'Turn me into Lucy. I couldn't give a damn – get off me!'
He had taken hold of her arm and she rounded on him, her hand plunging for her wand, but when she looked at his face she saw he wasn't looking at her, but instead had his eyes fixed on the dark corridor ahead. She turned back to try to see what it was he was looking at, but she didn't have time before he pulled her back behind the nearest tapestry. He let go of her arm, slumping against the wall, and then she heard the approaching voices.
'August said it would happen, but I never really believed it,' said Edmund Goyle excitedly.
'I told you it would,' said Laertus Zabini. 'You should have believed him. August doesn't say these things if he doesn't intend to follow through.'
'So do you think he'll let us help next time?' asked Clement Rosier.
'Probably,' replied Caliber Montague. 'We'll find out next weekend though.'
Through the tapestry Rose heard them begin up the spiral staircase and their voices became muffled by the echoing footsteps. She made to step out from the tapestry but Scorpius once again seized hold of her, shaking his head in warning. She threw him off, rolling her eyes, and stepped out.
She started down the corridor, away from the spiral staircase, towards the passageway that led to the Great Hall. Scorpius started after her; she could tell from his walk that he was trying not to let his footsteps echo. It wasn't until they had turned the corner into the next corridor that either of the spoke.
'You realise what they would have done if they'd heard us listening?' Scorpius demanded.
'Well, perhaps you shouldn't have pulled us behind a tapestry to eavesdrop,' she retorted.
'Where are you going now?'
'To my dormitory.'
'Your dormitory? Weasley, do you not understand what we just heard?'
'Oh, what? You want to go report broken curfews to the teachers? You're such a saint.'
'Don't be like that,' he snapped. 'You know what that was. You know what they were talking about. It's this August again – the same one they met at Christmas.'
'So, what? What are we supposed to do? They're allowed to meet with people. The teachers aren't going to care.'
'You are impossible. What is wrong with you?'
'Nothing is wrong with me, Malfoy. I don't trust them at all, but telling the teachers we overheard them is going to do nothing but get them detentions for breaking curfews.'
'But that's why we need to find out more,' said Scorpius. 'Imagine what we could hear from them if we could follow them up to the astronomy tower.'
'Well, go ahead. Go follow them.' He gave no response, and so she forced a smirk and said, 'Oh, what? Are you scared?'
'We need the cloak from Albus's brother,' Scorpius informed her. 'They said next weekend – next weekend if a Hogsmeade weekend. If we could follow them, find out who August is-'
'Well, you have fun,' she told him. 'This has all been riveting, but I'm going to bed.'
She made to turn away, but he stepped in front of her. He was one of the few people in their year level taller than her, and it annoyed her. She folded her arms, trying to make herself look more severe than she knew she did.
'You're in my way,' she told him.
'You are such a child,' he informed her. 'Do you really not care if they kill more people?'
'I'm not naïve enough to think I can do anything about it,' she said. 'Nor am I naïve to fall for this little act you've tricked Albus with. I have no idea why you're so interested, but I know it can't be altruism.'
'You don't know anything about me, Weasley,' he snapped at her.
'I know your father's a death eater,' she said, 'and I'm not interested in helping you.'
'And I know you think you're really fucking superior, but it's really, really bloody tedious,' he shot at her. 'I don't want your help, alright?'
'Good. I don't want to give it.'
'Good.'
'Good.'
They turned away at the same moment and started back towards their common rooms.
Song Credit: No Big Deal by Cullen Omori.
A/N: Thirteen chapters and all it's come to is the reluctant prefect patrol partners trope omg?
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to receive a review if you have anything (or nothing) to say! x
