16/12/2018
Harlequin Dream
We run through the jungle
And you can feel the rhythm of war
I'm fighting but I just can't fight anymore, I'm in awe
We'll give ourselves to the harlequin dream
Giving over all our friends and our family
And we'll say goodbye to the world that we love
For I can no longer deny my blood
It was strange to look at Ronald Weasley at such close proximity. He knew his face from book covers, magazine articles, the front page of the Daily Prophet, but with only a few feet between them he felt he was seeing him properly for the first time: the faded freckles on his cheeks, the scars that wound up and down his arms, the thin shape of his jawline that his daughter had inherited.
Scorpius supposed that, had he been smiling, he could have been handsome, but the scowl he was wearing had persisted since Scorpius first stepped into the room. The auror had been offered one of the unused classrooms for the day to conduct interviews.
'Right, shut the door,' said Ron Weasley bracingly when Scorpius entered. 'Take a seat if you like.'
Scorpius did as he was told. He had the impression the auror was fighting to sound civil, but merely sounded strained. He dropped down into the seat across the desk from Weasley. He could see the man scribbling out the day's date and the words Statement - Scorpius Malfoy at the top of the parchment before him.
'My name's Ron Weasley,' said the auror needlessly, 'and I was hoping you could tell me what you told your head mistress.'
Weasley proceeded to open the draw of the desk and remove the Quidditch plaque from it, sliding it across the room to Scorpius. 'You recognised this man from the Shrieking Shack, is that right?'
Scorpius stared down at the smiling face of August Selwyn. 'Yeah.'
'But you didn't tell your head mistress that last week, is that right?'
'Well, I didn't recognise him at first,' said Scorpius, rather defensively. 'And then I saw his photo in the trophy room and I knew it was him.'
Weasley looked down at his notes. 'But you didn't see his face. You recognised his voice, is that right?'
'Yes, but – but I know it was him.'
'And when you went into the Shrieking Shack what did you hear him saying?'
Scorpius was sure that Albus had already recounted this for his uncle, but Scorpius tried his best to be patient as he explained what they had heard. As he was talking, Weasley scribbled out his statement hurriedly onto the parchment.
'And there was no mention of this man's surname?' asked Weasley.
'No, but I know it was him,' insisted Scorpius.
'Yes, you said that. But I want to know if you heard them say it.'
Reluctantly, Scorpius grumbled back, 'No.'
The auror nodded, jotting his answer down onto the parchment. 'And you didn't see his face, but you saw the faces of the four Slytherin students.'
'Yes.'
'Can you tell me their names?'
'It's Clement Rosier and Edmund Goyle and Laertus Zabini and Caliber Montague.'
'And if this was ever to reach the Wizengamot, you would be willing to testify?'
The bluntness surprised Scorpius, and he didn't answer immediately. Weasley looked up from his writing, his eyebrows raised expectantly. Scorpius wondered if anybody ever said no to the auror when he gave them that look.
'Yes,' said Scorpius.
'And you would be willing to take veritaserum to give a testimony?'
'I… Yeah, I would. Why? Is this going to go to the Wizengamot?'
'That's not my job to speculate on,' Weasley dismissed. 'But we need to know if the case is worth pursuing.'
'It is worth pursuing,' said Scorpius. 'I know that school thinks he's dead, but there are ways to fake that-'
'Yes, I'm aware,' said Weasley, rather curtly. He slid the parchment he had been scribbling on across the table to Scorpius. 'I need your signature on the dotted line there.'
Scorpius wanted to push the auror for more, but he found it somehow difficult to look him in the eye. He added his signature to the parchment.
Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. He once again considered how much he hated the sight of it.
He passed the parchment back to Weasley and asked, 'Are you going to try to find out where Selwyn is supposedly buried? Or who told the school he was dead?'
'You can't ask me that,' Weasley informed him, sounding rather bored. 'Thanks for your time. You can head off. I have other people I need to interview.'
'You ready?'
She looked up from her book. Her brother was standing before her, slouching in a Chudley Cannons jumper, his ringlets tied back in a ponytail. He looked rather bored, but expectant.
'Ready for what?' asked Rose.
'To go see Dad. You did read his letter, right? He's up at the school for the day.'
Rose looked back at her book. 'I'm studying.'
'No, you're not. You're reading.'
'Studying involves reading.'
'Why are you so shitty?'
'Don't let Mum and Dad hear their baby saying that word.'
'Fine, I'll tell him you're not coming,' said Hugo. 'He'll be sad though.'
'He'll be sadder if I fail my OWLs.'
'You're so grumpy, Rosie,' Hugo told her, but he didn't protest any further. He turned away from her and trudged away to the portrait hole.
'I won't allow it.'
Hermione gritted her teeth. 'Mikhael…'
'Exhuming a grave, without any solid evidence…'
'We have statements from two people,' said Ron hotly. 'They've both said they'll consent to taking veritaserum-'
'School children,' dismissed Mikhael Rowle. 'One of whom is your nephew. Now, I understand that he'd want to assist in the investigation…'
'You think he's made it up?' demanded Ron.
'Scorpius Malfoy is the one who recognised his voice as August Selwyn,' said Hermione matter-of-factly.
'All the same, the suspicions of children are not enough to convince me to allow you to disturb this poor boy's coffin,' said Rowle evenly. 'Your report said you've spoken to his mother. She identified his body after his death. There were witnesses to the accident, a hundred people at his funeral…'
'He was killed by a rogue bludger to the head,' growled Harry. 'His face was smashed in. It could have been anyone they buried.'
'And for what end, Mr Potter?' asked Rowle. 'I've looked at the case file Mr Weasley prepared. August Selwyn had no history of violence, no history of protesting. He was a bright young man who died tragically. I will not allow you to put his parents through having to bury their son for a second time. You must simply accept that you've taken the investigation down the wrong path, yet again. First you hound Draco Malfoy, now you're harassing August Selwyn's family…'
'You'd have us just dismiss this?' Ron bit at him. 'After they were overheard talking about planning further attacks?'
'Tell me, Mr Weasley, did you interview the four students that your nephew alleges to have seen in Hogsmeade that day?' asked Rowle evenly.
Ron gritted his teeth. 'You know I did. You can read about the interviews in my report.'
'And what did they tell you?'
'Exactly what I expected them to tell me,' said Ron harshly. 'That they were together in their common room all day, but conveniently no other students or their head of house saw them. There's no way we can verify their stories-'
'And there's no way we can verify your nephew's story,' replied Rowle.
'You think he made it up?' demanded Ron. 'He and Scorpius Malfoy were interviewed separately, and their stories match the others exactly-'
Rowle have a lofty sigh. 'Oh, I would never that they were lying, but we know how children can be. They've run away with their imaginations. These four boys that the witnesses claim to have seen in the Shrieking Shack – they are all from Pureblood families, and we are all aware that it is boys like these who stand to lose the most from the Reclamation Army's attacks.'
'Or so the Reclamation Army would have us believe,' snapped Harry. 'It's very convenient, having the Ministry working under the assumption that the attack was motivated by blood-equality.'
'You can't ignore what is before your eyes, Mr Potter,' said Rowle calmly. 'The Pureblood community has been the target of the Reclamation Army all along. We are at risk. Now, I've consulted with the Wizengamot and we are in agreement. Instead of focussing on Pureblood suspects, perhaps you should take a look at some of your own kind.'
'Our own – what the hell does that mean?' demanded Harry.
'The Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army,' said Rowle. 'As grateful as we are for what your comrades did for our nation during the war, you must admit that some of your associates have a history of anti-Ministry activism.'
The anger that surged through Harry forced him to his feet, but Hermione gave a sharp call for calm. 'Harry, sit down.'
He paid her no mind. His eyes were fixed on Rowle. 'How dare you…'
Rowle seemed unbothered, and he gave a lazy wave of his wand, conjuring up a magenta slip of parchment which he held aloft from Harry. 'You'll find the signatures of the entire Wizengamot, along with the Minister's. We want to know the whereabouts of everybody on the list on Christmas.'
Harry snatched the parchment from him. He scanned the list. Every living member of the Order and the D.A. had had their name added.
He looked back at Rowle to see that he was getting to his feet, straightening his navy robes. 'You cannot be serious.'
'Oh, I'm very serious, Mr Potter,' said Rowle pleasantly. 'I trust you and Mr Weasley will be able to get through the list very quickly, seeming you both know them all so well. And if you have any objections I'm sure the Minister will be pleased to hear them. Now, if you'll excuse me. I left a meeting with my campaign manager to hear this ridiculous request you've brought to me.'
Harry watched as Rowle strode from Hermione's office, his hands shaking with anger as they clutched the parchment. Once Rowle was gone, Harry aimed his wand at the door and it slammed shut, and he rounded on Ron and Hermione.
'Can you believe-'
'I know, mate, it's okay,' said Ron.
'He wants us to get alibis – for everyone. If Rowle had bothered to read your report, he'd know that the dark material would have been deployed from a distance. What are alibis even good for?'
'We have them, Harry. Please sit down,' urged Hermione.
He looked up at her. 'You have them? What do you mean?'
Hermione glanced towards Ron who, looking grim, took out his wand and conjured up a scroll of parchment. He caught it from the air and passed it to Harry. Harry tore it open; it was the same list of names as on the parchment Rowle had given him, but Ron's list had had the addition of annotations in Ron's messy hand writing. Harry scanned the list.
Elphias Doge – at Hogwarts School. Confirmed by head mistress Aurora Sinistra.
Lee Jordan – in Canary Islands. Confirmed by Alicia Jordan.
Luna Scamander - In Ottery St Catchpole. Confirmed by Xenophilius Lovegood.
Harry looked back up at Ron. 'What is this?'
'Alibis,' said Ron. 'For the night of the attack.'
'When did you do this?'
'When Kingsley first asked me to work on the case. I knew Rowle would ask us for it sooner or later. Sit down, would you? You're making me nervous.'
Harry did as he was told, sinking back into his chair, continuing to scan the list. He and Ginny, along with the other Weasleys, had all had their whereabouts confirmed as being in Ottery St Catchpole.
Harry looked back up at Ron. 'You didn't tell me.'
'You would have said the Ministry doesn't have the right to ask them for alibis.'
'Well, it doesn't,' said Harry, but he was feeling immense relief. 'So, they're all accounted for? Everyone?'
'Well,' said Ron bracingly, and Harry saw him exchange a glance with Hermione, 'not Mundungus Fletcher.'
Harry gave a low groan. 'Of course he isn't.'
'I have no idea where he is. Nobody's heard from him in months. And I was hoping to talk to him before giving the list to Rowle, but it looks like I've run out of time to do that.'
'And that's all Rowle will notice,' sighed Hermione. 'You've got fifty people there with alibis, but if Mundungus Fletcher was unaccounted for that has to be rectified.'
Harry rolled up the parchment and handed it back to Ron. 'Forget Mundungus. We can worry about him later. Give the list to Rowle.'
Ron nodded, retrieving the list from Harry. 'And what do we do about August Selwyn?'
'Maybe if more people get killed we'll get Kingsley to let us exhume the grave,' said Harry. 'But until then we need to find out where this material has come from and who had the ability to create it.'
'So, you never go to matches? Never?'
'I go to the world cup sometimes,' said Albus as he buttered his toast. 'When my family makes me.'
'Why don't you go?'
'I don't like watching Quidditch. Playing it is fine, but watching it is dull.'
Scorpius shook his head in disgust. 'That's sacrilege.'
Having fallen into the habit of studying together, motivated by Albus's guidance in potions and Scorpius's guidance in defence, they had found that their interest in Quidditch and their dislike of most of the other boys in their year level provided them with ample conversation topics - so much so they they often weren't ready to stop talking when it was time for meals. Much to Rose's chagrin, it had become a common occurrence for Albus and Scorpius to eat together in the Great Hall.
'Will you go to the world cup?'
Scorpius shrugged. 'Maybe. I usually do. My dad gets free tickets because he donates money to it, but like… you know.'
Albus glanced up at him. 'What?'
'Well, my mum, she's pregnant.'
'Oh,' said Albus, and he looked up from his meal to meet Scorpius's eyes. 'I didn't know that. Congratulations.'
'Yeah, well... I don't know if congratulations is the right word. But the baby's due in July and I doubt my dad will want to go to the World Cup.'
'Oh, right.'
'Yeah.' Scorpius picked at his bowl of porridge, scowling. He wished he hadn't mentioned his parents.
'You could come with my family,' said Albus. 'If you want to.'
Scorpius raised his eyebrows. 'They wouldn't mind?'
'No, course not. Although, you don't have to, of course. If you'd rather be with your family.'
Scorpius didn't exactly know how to tell Albus how much he appreciated the offer, and so he simply said, 'Yeah, maybe. Who do you think will be in the house cup?'
Albus shrugged, but attempted to answer as a means of changing the topic. In the time they had been spending together, Scorpius had realised this was something he liked about Albus; he didn't push anyone to talk about things they didn't want to.
'Well,' said the Gryffindor thoughtfully, 'now that you guys lost to Slytherin we might actually have a chance of winning.'
'Thanks.'
'What? You asked.'
'No, I know. You've still got to beat Hufflepuff and Slytherin, though.'
'Yeah, and Montague will probably knock me off my broom so…'
'Oh, God. Stop it, would you? They don't know it was you. It's been nearly two weeks. They would have done something by now.'
'Yeah, but my uncle interviewed them,' insisted Albus. 'They must know somebody said something. Not that it did any good - it's not like they've been pulled out of school or anything. Their story must have checked out.'
'Has your uncle told you anything about the investigation?'
Albus shook his head. 'No, my uncle would never tell me about something like that.'
Scorpius wanted to press for more information, but before he could protest they were interrupted by the sound of wings and screeching as owls swooped down from overhead with the morning post. The Malfoy's eagle owl dropped a letter into Scorpius's bowl of porridge, while a brown screech owl landed beside Albus.
Scorpius fished the letter out of his bowl and dropped it onto the table, sipping his pumpkin juice. He tapped the letter against the table, reluctant to open it but anxious to find out what news his mother had from him. He braced himself with a steadying breath before tearing the letter open.
It was written in his mother's slim, elegant handwriting. He read it over, careful for any indication that she wasn't doing well, but there was nothing other than her usual optimism. He set the letter down, frowning, and glanced up at Albus, who was looking across the great hall to where Chandra and Rose had just strode through the doors. They scanned the Gryffindor table, catching sight of him. Albus could see Rose frowning at the presence of Scorpius. She seemed ready to turn on her heel and walk away, but Chandra took hold of her hand and steered her over.
'Morning, Al,' trilled Chandra, dropping into a seat beside Albus. 'Morning, Scorpius.'
Scorpius didn't look forward to the times when Chandra and Rose joined Albus, but he tried his best to be civil with them. 'Morning,' he said to Chandra.
Rose said nothing in the way of greeting, but instead went straight to pouring herself a cup of tea.
'Oh, I could just die,' sighed Chandra, wrapping a strand of sleek, black hair around her finger. 'I'm so tired. Connor didn't wake you up when he came back to your dorm last night, did he? I told him to be quiet, but we'd had some mead.'
'He did, but that's no surprise,' grumbled Scorpius. 'He does it all the time.'
Chandra seemed taken aback by his lack of enthusiasm, but she recovered quickly. 'Oh, Scorpius, I'm really, really sorry. It's my fault, I kept him up too late.'
Scorpius was only half listening. He was drumming his fingers against the table, thinking about how useless his interview with Ron Weasley seemed to have been, and how he was supposed to reply to his mother's letter, and the way Rose Weasley was scowling at him from across the table.
In another bid for conversation, Chandra asked, 'What are you guys doing for Valentine's Day on the weekend?'
'Probably do something with Mei, I guess,' said Albus. 'You?'
'Oh, well, Connor says he doesn't care about Valentine's day, but I think he's just saying that, because he can actually be very romantic sometimes. I know you wouldn't expect that of him, because he's so down to earth-'
Before he could stop himself, Scorpius gave a sniff of laughter. The three Gryffindors looked at him; Chandra bemused, Albus warning, and Rose venomous.
'Oh, Scorpius, you won't make fun of him, will you?' asked Chandra pleadingly. 'He likes people to think he's so stoic. I shouldn't have said he was romantic – he'll be mortified.'
'I wasn't laughing at that,' said Scorpius. When Chandra continued to stare at him with wide, brown eyes, he added, 'I just wouldn't call him down to earth.'
'We should go to class,' said Albus quickly. 'Come on, Scorpius.'
'Oh, wouldn't you?' said Chandra thoughtfully. 'I always thought… Well, he's so smart. He is in Ravenclaw, after all.'
'Being in Ravenclaw doesn't make you smart,' retorted Scorpius.
'No, you're evidence of that,' said Rose.
'Oh, come on,' snapped Scorpius. 'Don't pretend you like him. You've told me before you think he's an idiot.'
Chandra glanced towards Rose, looking worried. 'Really, Rosie?' she asked. 'I didn't know that. I thought… if you just got to know him…'
Albus saved Rose from answering by grabbing hold of Scorpius's arm. 'Zaina's coming over here, Scorpius.'
Scorpius looked over his shoulder. Zaina was indeed striding towards them across the great hall, her black ringlets cascading over her shoulders. When she reached them her eyes scanned over the group of them, before coming to rest on Scorpius. She ran a hand over his shoulder.
'Morning, Scorp.'
'Morning,' he grumbled back.
'Are you ready to go?' she asked softly, trailing her fingers through her hair. 'Doge will lose it if you're late again, love.'
'Yeah,' he replied, snatching up the letter from his mother and stuffing it into his pocket. 'I'll see you at lunch,' he said to Albus, before taking Zaina's offered hand and following her away from the table.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the Gryffindors, Zaina abandoned her sweet, soft voice for her usual purposeful drawl. 'Why were you sitting with them?'
'I intended to sit with Albus, but Weasley and Thomas turned up.'
Zaina sighed, impatient. 'I don't know why you're such good friends with Potter all of a sudden. He's so weird.'
'I'd take him over Connor and Kienan,' Scorpius snapped at her. 'Why do you care anyway?'
Zaina pursed her lips, trying to look dignified as she invented an excuse. 'I just don't want to have to see them all the time if you're friends with them.'
'I'm only friends with Albus,' he informed her as they started up the marble stairs. 'And I constantly have to put up with your friends. Why shouldn't you do the same?'
'Because, dear, up until a few weeks ago you didn't have any friends.'
'Thank you, Zaina.'
'Oh, darling, what's the matter? You're so sulky.
'You just told me I have no friends.'
She gave him a knowing smile. 'Was that a letter from you parents?'
'So, when you insult me I can't be annoyed just because you've insulted me? It has to be spurred by my parents?'
'Everything about you is spurred by your parents, dear,' she said, giving his hand a consoling a pat. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. 'You'll have to get over it one day. Hating your dad can't excuse you sulking your whole life.'
He had intended to allow himself time to reply to the letter from his mother that he had been ignoring for the last few days, but he had dawdled too long on the Quidditch pitch that afternoon practicing with Albus. Once dressed, he sat on his bed and re-read the letter for what had to be the fifth time.
Everything is going splendidly here, she had finished the letter with. The healer's say the baby is doing very well.
It was this line that made it so hard to reply. He didn't care how well the baby was doing; he wanted to know how his mother was, but of course she didn't tell him that.
He spent a long time stewing over the letter that he was holding, before he glanced towards the clock on his bedside table. Realising he was late, he stuffed the letter into his trunk and left his dormitory.
Rose Weasley was reading when he found her, but she snapped her book shut before he reached her and stowed it away in her satchel. She folded her arms, her dark eyes watching him.
'You don't need to say anything,' he grumbled when he reached her.
She raised her eyebrows at him. 'I didn't.'
'I wasn't trying to be late. I just didn't see the time, okay?'
'I didn't say anything, Malfoy. I don't just sit around waiting for you. I was reading.'
'Well, you don't have to look at me like that.' He turned away, starting down the corridor.
It took a few seconds for Rose's footsteps to start, and then she fell into stride with him. They were silent as they walked. The quiet of the passageways and the February chill was somewhat sobering, and he told himself to force the letter from his mother from his mind.
He realised, annoyed with himself, that he had allowed his anger to show when he had snapped at Rose. He liked it better when she was insolent and immature, while he kept to the high ground.
In an effort to reclaim his dignity, he said to her, 'What were you reading?'
She glanced towards him. 'I thought we weren't supposed to talk to each other?'
'Well, it didn't work very well last time,' he grumbled, and immediately tried to sound calm when he said, 'Just tell me what you were reading, would you?'
Rose seemed to hesitate, before saying guardedly, 'A book.'
'Don't be annoying.'
'You won't know it. It's a Muggle book.'
'I might. We read Muggle books for Muggle studies.'
She looked at him with raised eyebrows, before seemingly dismissing him and saying simply, 'Well, I doubt you've read this one.'
'You're not the only person in the world who knows how to read, you know?'
'Fine. It's called Anna Karenina.'
'I've read that,' he insisted. 'By Tolstoy. We studied it last year.'
'You haven't.'
'How would you know?' he demanded. 'You don't know what books I've read. See, at the moment I'm reading this really obscure Muggle author – don't know if you'd have heard of him. William Shakespeare?'
'Funny.'
'Thank you.'
They started up the staircase to the second floor, and he realised Rose wasn't going to continue the conversation. He let them walk for a while, dwelling on his letter for his mother, but he found he didn't much like dwelling on it.
'Think of something to talk to talk about,' he said to Rose.
She glanced at him. 'Why do you want to talk all of a sudden?'
'I don't know. Perhaps we ought to try to get along for Albus's sake. And it's boring walking around in silence.'
'Well, I don't have anything to talk about.'
'You must.'
'I don't. You think of something if you want to talk.'
'Alright, fine. Let's see… I met your dad the other day.'
She stopped walking to look at him. 'So?'
'So. Let's talk about that.'
Her dark eyes were fixed upon him, but the flickering of the torches behind her made it hard to discern the expression on her face. 'I don't understand what there is to talk about.'
'Did you have a little catch-up?'
She started walking again, her face impassive. 'No.'
Scorpius frowned at her. 'He's come up to Scotland and you didn't even go see him?'
'Is that a problem?'
Scorpius shook his head, before saying to her, 'He's a bit like you. Grumpy, you know.'
'He's not grumpy.'
'He was when I met him.'
'He probably doesn't like you, then.'
'Why? What's he usually like?'
She shook her head. 'I don't want to talk about my dad.'
'Why not? Do you two not get along or something?'
'No, we get along fine.'
'You seem like you don't like it when people mention him.'
'I'm sure you don't like it when people mention your dad.'
'Yes, but your dad's a famous auror. Seeming you love to remind people you're superior to them I'd think that would be a good thing to bring up.'
'Alright, I have a topic,' she said. 'Why did you tell Chandra that I'd said Connor is an idiot?'
'What?'
'At breakfast the other day.'
'That bothered you?'
'Yes, Malfoy, it did. I've had to endure seventy-two of her insisting I just need to get to know him.'
'Well, maybe you would. You two could be wonderful friends. You don't have any others.'
He reminded himself of Zaina in that moment, and he didn't like it. Rose, however, seemed unbothered.
'You're not answering my question,' she said to him. 'Why'd you have to tell Chandra that?'
'Well, what do you want me to say? You did say he's an idiot. And more to the point he is an idiot. Somebody ought to let Thomas know that. I'm doing her a favour.'
Rose gave a sharp life. 'Oh, yes. I forgot how much you like Chandra. You're so good to her, Malfoy. With her best interests at heart, of course.'
'If you were really her friend you wouldn't let her go out with that git.'
'Who she goes out with is none of my business.'
'And yet you take Albus dating Mei as a personal affront?'
'It's only a personal affront when I have to be in her presence,' snapped Rose. 'Chandra likes everyone to like everyone else. If you need to make my life difficult I'd appreciate it if you did it without hurting Chandra's feelings.'
'Alright, fine,' he snapped. 'Next time I'll find something else to annoy you with, okay?'
'Thank you very much,' she grumbled.
'You're very welcome.' They continued walking. He realised, quite quickly, that he had just ruined any civility they had been working towards, and so he said to her, 'What is it exactly that you don't like about Mei?'
Rose gave a groan. 'Do we have to talk about Mei Zhao of all things?'
'I'm just asking. I've never had a problem with her.'
'That's because you've never had prefect patrol with her,' said Rose. 'She's a complete totalitarian. She gave detentions to some first-year who were playing exploding snap in the library after curfew.'
'Well, that is what the head girl told us to do.'
'Fine. Next time we catch someone out of bed you can take them to their head of house.'
'I'm not saying I agree with it,' he said. 'I just feel like for Albus's sake you might choose to give her the benefit of the doubt.'
'My not liking Mei doesn't need to effect Albus. I'm not going to pretend to like her for his peace of mind.'
'But you'll pretend to like Connor to keep Chandra happy? Where's the logic in that?'
'Because it hurts Chandra's feelings thinking I don't like Connor.'
'Well, it bothers Al that you don't like Mei,' said Scorpius.
Rose gave on of her sharp laughs. 'Albus doesn't care. He's completely blinded by love.'
'He does care. He told me.'
'Oh, yes, I forgot. You two are best friends now. You know him so well.'
'Well, it seems like I know him better than you,' Scorpius accused.
Rose sighed. 'Okay, Malfoy, I don't know what you want me to say. I don't like Mei and I can't force myself to for Albus's sake, alright? Look, I think we need a new topic of conversation if we're going to keep going like this.'
'Alright, go right ahead.'
'Alright. Why are you taking Muggle studies?'
'Why are you asking me that?'
'It's a topic of conversation. Why are you taking Muggle studies?'
It was the first time he had ever had to think of a proper justification for this. While his father and his grandfather had found it bemusing, they had never directly asked him for a reason, probably afraid that he would tell them that he liked Muggles.
He settled upon saying to Rose, 'The reading list is good. We do a different Muggle book each month. They're all fiction books, so there's no revision, which I like.'
'So that's why you continued with it?'
'Partly.'
'And what's the other part?'
'To annoy my dad.'
She frowned at him. 'Seriously?'
He looked at her. 'What?'
'Nothing,' she said, and when he continued to glare at her she said, 'It's just an excessive route to go down to annoy your dad.'
'It's not like I hate the class. I like it better than my other subjects. And I don't know what job I want so I don't care what OWLs I take.'
'You could go work for the Ministry,' she suggested coolly. 'Once Rowle takes over he'll only employ Purebloods, so it will work out very well for you.'
He forced himself to not give her the satisfaction of knowing she was annoying him. Instead of retorting, he said, 'When's your birthday?' he asked.
She frowned at him. 'My birthday?'
'Yes, Weasley, your birthday.'
'Why do you want to know?'
'So I can steal your identity. No, because I was going to ask if you'll be old enough to vote in November. God, Weasley.'
'I'll turn seventeen in October. And you?'
'September.'
'And who will you vote for?'
'That's a personal question.'
'Don't answer it then.'
'Well, thankfully I'll vote for Shacklebolt. Otherwise this would have been awkward.'
Rose looked surprised by this. 'You support Shackebolt?'
'Why is that so shocking?'
'Why do you support him?'
'The same reasons you do, I assume,' he told her impatiently. 'He gives extra funding to St Mungo's, extra funding to Hogwarts. He taxes Gringotts. He's brought in reform for the rights of house elves and other creatures. And most importantly, if he wins that means Rowle doesn't win.'
'Yes, but if Rowle wins he'll restore Purebloods to their rightful place. Wouldn't you like that?'
He looked at her, scowling. 'You think that I want to see every Muggle-born rounded up and sent to Azkaban?'
Rose rolled her eyes. 'So dramatic. That would never happen.'
'It's already starting,' insisted Scorpius. 'The Wizengamot's agreed to Rowle's curfew, and Muggle studies isn't going to be compulsory anymore. He's blocking your dad's investigation into August Selwyn, and the Wizengamot is allowing him to do it. He's just going to keep gaining more and more power until he can do whatever he likes.'
Rose seemed to consider this for a moment, before saying, 'That's very Orwellian.'
Scorpius allowed himself to glance at her. 'Orwellian?'
'George Orwell. He was a Muggle author.'
'I know who George Orwell was,' he snapped. 'I mean how is this Orwellian?'
'This idea you've got of him taking over slowly, without any real grab for power. You seem to be under the impression that he's got enough support to win the election.'
'Well, he's ahead in the polls.'
'That's just hysteria,' she dismissed. 'Anyone with a modicum of intelligence knows that Rowle is manipulating everyone into supporting him. When it comes down to it nobody will actually vote for him.'
'You really think that?'
'Yes, I do.'
'Well, I hope you're right,' he said. 'You seem to give people a lot more credit than I think they deserve.'
'Well, don't give up hope. One day we'll be living in a dystopian dictatorship and you can say I told you so.'
In spite of himself, he realised he had laughed. As he did so, Rose turned to look at him; it was as if she hadn't believed it possible to see him laughing. He quickly composed himself, looking away.
They continued along the patrol path, starting up their stairs to the astronomy tower.
It was nearly twelve by the time he made it back to his dormitory. There were still a considerable number of stragglers awake; the fifth and seventh-years had reluctantly begun to brace for their impending exams. He was pleased to see Julian Jiang and Linus Stebbins by the fire poring over revision notes, ensuring that his dormitory would be unoccupied other than Finlay.
He climbed the stairs to his dormitory and kicked the door open. Finlay was lying sprawled on his four-poster, flicking through his potions book, and looked around in time to see James tearing the invisibility cloak off.
Finlay tossed his book aside and sat up. 'Where's the ale?'
James moved across the room and slumped down onto his four-poster. 'I didn't get it.'
Finlay sighed, disappointed. 'Well give me my sickles back then.'
James ignored him, wrenching open the draw of his bedside table. He proceeded to begin to rummage through it, unearthing a medley of empty tobacco tins, broken quills, and an accumulation of scrap paper.
'What's the matter?' asked Finlay.
'They've closed it up,' said James.
'You mean the passageway?'
'Yes, obviously the passageway.'
'What? Are you sure?'
James didn't answer. He had found what he was looking for, and pulled out the weathered Marauder's Map. He tapped it with his wand, grumbling as he did so, 'I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good.'
'What are you doing?' asked Finlay.
'I need to look for another way out,' said James. 'Mundungus says we're on for tonight. There's that other passageway that comes up near the apothecary…'
'That's the one that caved in,' said Finlay.
'Shit, I forgot.'
'How is the one on the third-floor closed up? She's served us so well all these years. We need a moment of silence.'
'The professors must have found out it was there.' James reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out his tin of tobacco. He lay the map on his lap and continued to scan it as he rolled himself a cigarette.
'How? Nobody would tell them. Everyone who knows about it uses it.'
'Fin, believe me, if I knew who it was I'd be out murdering them.' James lit his cigarette, took a drag, and tapped a corner of the map. 'What about this one?'
Finlay crossed to James's bed, leaning over him to see what he was looking at. 'The Shrieking Shack?'
'Yeah.'
Finlay sighed, running a hand through his dreadlocks. 'We've tried it so many times. There are a lot of charms blocking the exit.'
James offered the cigarette to Finlay, who took it from him. James watched him as he dragged on it, the smoke billowing towards the ceiling.
'We've broken most of them,' insisted James. 'Come on, I reckon it's worth a go.'
'Yeah, but we gave up because we broke half of them and couldn't break the rest.'
James was growing irritated. 'Well, that was like two years ago. We've learnt heaps more about counter-charms. I reckon I can do it.'
Finlay sunk down onto the bed beside him and passed the cigarette back to the chaser. 'James…'
'Oh, don't start,' he snapped. 'I need the money. Are you going to help me or not?'
Groaning, Finlay lay back on James's bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 'Yes, because I'm an idiot.'
'No, it's because you're amazing. Come on, if I make it out I'll bring you back some ale.'
A good twenty minutes whiled away while they tried to convince a group of second-years they had found roaming the astronomy tower to return the dormitory. When they finally sent the group of their way (confident that they would no doubt just find a different floor to go to), Rose and Scorpius continued along the dark corridor.
'So,' said Scorpius eventually, 'all these books you like to brag about having read. Is that what you want to do when you leave school?'
'What?' asked Rose. 'Brag about books?'
'No, like – be a writer or something?'
'Just because I like reading doesn't mean I want to be a writer. Everybody likes reading.'
'It would be so you, though. Smug bookish girl with aspirations to become a writer and change the world and has the liberty of actually pursuing it due to not having to get a real job after school because your parents have money.'
'What are those shoes made out of, Malfoy? Dragon hide?'
Scorpius glanced down at the black school shoes he was wearing. 'Do you have a problem with them?'
Rose gave a sniff of derision. 'If I ever asked my mum to buy me something that expensive she'd never speak to me again.'
'I never asked my parents to buy me dragon hide shoes. They just do it, I mean…' When he noticed Rose laughing he said, 'Oh, shut up. Fine, point taken: my family's rich. You're avoiding the question.'
'What question?'
'What is it that you want to be when you finish school?'
She gave a shrug. 'I'm not sure. I suppose I'd like to go abroad. Or maybe something in Muggle correspondence.'
'What's with you and Muggles?'
'What?'
'Well, all the books you read are Muggle books.'
'You read them too.'
'Only for Muggle studies. And I'm not the one saying I want to work in Muggle correspondence.'
'Well, it's not like I've got my mind set on it.'
'Then what attracts you to it?'
'Basically, I…' He saw her hesitate, her eyes shifting towards him briefly, as if unsure how much to say to him. He heard her give a small sigh, as if realising she had come too far to back out. 'I'd prefer to work somewhere where people don't know who my parents are.'
He looked at her. 'Really?'
'Yes, go ahead. Tell me how ungrateful I am.'
'No, I just…' He saw her look at him, but he glanced away.
He had spent many hours alone in his room at Malfoy Manor brainstorming exactly that: how could he shape his life after Hogwarts to ensure that nobody he met would know who his parents were?
He wasn't, however, willing to admit this to Rose, knowing she would have something snide to say about it. Instead he said, 'I guess that makes sense.'
'Well, what do you want to do when school ends?' she asked him.
'I don't really know,' he told her truthfully. 'I'm not in a rush. My parents have a vault for me at Gringotts, and my grandfather left me a lot of money when he died, so – oh, shut up.'
'I didn't say anything.'
'Yes, okay. I already said my family's rich.'
'I didn't say anything,' she sighed. 'So, knowing that you're a billionaire-'
'Not a billionaire.'
'Knowing that you don't urgently need to find a job,' she substituted, unbothered. 'What is it that you like doing? If you could do anything in the world?'
'Oh, I don't know.,' he said. 'Anything but go work for the ministry. I'll kill myself before I become a bureaucrat.'
'So, you have no plans at all?'
'Just travel, I guess.'
'Me too, I suppose.'
'Where would you go?'
'Anywhere. You?'
'Eastern Europe first, I think,' he said thoughtfully. 'Prague, Budapest, Bucharest – in Romania, you know?'
'I know where Bucharest is, Malfoy,' drawled Rose.
'Well, not everyone does. I thought I'd clarify,' he said. 'And then I'd probably go over to the America. New York, maybe…'
'Oh, wow, New York,' said Rose. 'Is that in America, Malfoy?'
He sighed. 'Yes, okay, you're very funny.'
'I'd love to go this really obscure place called France,' said Rose. 'It's in Europe, I think.'
'Oh, yeah, France, I've heard of that,' he said. 'Next to Romania, right?'
'Yes, between Romania and Portugal.'
'Oh, yes. You're so well educated.'
'Thanks. I read lots of books.'
'I can tell.'
He could see her smiling, and he was grinning, and he suddenly felt idiotic for doing so. To avoid looking at her, he took a glance towards his watch. 'It's nearly one, you know?'
'Is it?'
'Time goes quickly when you're learning so much about geography.'
'Okay, I think the joke's dead now,' said Rose resolutely. 'Shall we go back to the prefects' office?'
'Gladly.'
They made their way to the staircase and trudged their way downstairs, their footsteps echoing along the empty torch-lit passageways.
When they reached the door of the prefect's office he gave the dragon-head door-knocker the password, and he heard the lock click open. He pulled the door open, waving Rose inside, and she strode past him.
The sheet of parchment remained on the noticeboard, waiting for their signatures. Rose jotted down the date, the time and her name, and then stepped aside to let him sign the parchment.
He scratched out his signature and, from behind him, he heard Rose say, 'Hyperion.'
He rounded on her. He hadn't realised she had been watching him write. 'Do you mind?'
'Exquisite name.'
'Shut up.' He turned back to the noticeboard and wrote out the date and time. 'It means he who watches from above.'
'Oh, how beautiful.'
He rolled his eyes and set the quill down, turning to face her. He folded his arms, trying to look dignified. 'What's your middle name then?'
'I don't have one.'
'That's not fair.'
'Alright, it's Virginia.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'Virginia?
'Yes.'
'Let me guess – after Virginia Woolf?'
'After my grandmother.'
'Sure,' he drawled.
'Okay, well, not that this hasn't been fun, but I'm leaving.'
'Same.'
She started towards the door, and he followed her. He shut the door behind them and she turned back to him.
'Well, goodnight,' she said.
'Same time next week?'
'I suppose.'
'Just think of the Hogsmeade visits,' he advised. 'It's all worth it for the sake of the Hogsmeade visits.'
'It's what gets me through the day. Night, Malfoy.'
'Night, Weasley.'
He turned away towards the west, on route to Ravenclaw tower, and she turned east towards Gryffindor tower. They strode away, listening to the others fading footsteps reverberating off of the castle's stone walls.
Like every Saturday since returning to school, Albus spent a good portion of it at Quidditch practice. James had become even more vigorous since Ravenclaw had lost to Slytherin. James knew, as did Albus and the rest of the team, that if Gryffindor were to win next month's match against Hufflepuff then they would secure their place in the final.
When practice was over, Albus showered and dressed as quickly as possible. He crossed to the mirror in the change rooms, engaging in the all-too frequent battle of trying to get his fringe to stay flat.
'Where are you off to looking so pretty, Al?' asked Louis.
'Lou, you prat, it's Valentine's day,' said Finlay. 'Ewan's gonna kill you.'
'Ewan doesn't even know what month it is,' said Louis carelessly as he pulled on a clean pair of trousers.
James stepped forward and threw his arm around Albus, ruffling his hair and destroying what little progress Albus had made in flattening it.
'Piss off, James,' snapped Albus, pushing his brother away.
'Aw, don't worry, Ducky,' cooed James. 'You look stunning. Mei won't know what's hit her. I mean, presumably she was hit by a bludger at some point to want to shag you but – okay, fine, calm down!'
Albus had elbowed James sharply in the chest and managed to wriggle out of his grip. He pulled on his jacket and gloves, snatching up the gift he had brought for Mei before he left the change room.
Mei was waiting for him in the Great Hall, wearing a red coat over a green knit dress with her long black hair done up in a braid. She smiled when she saw him, and he strode over to her, kissing her cheek.
'Happy Valentine's Day,' he said, passing her the gift.
Smiling, she unwrapped the box of Honeydukes' Finest. Mei sighed, though her cheeks were slightly pink. 'Albus, I told you not to get me anything.'
'I know, but I wanted to. What do you feel like doing?'
'It's not too cold outside,' she said. 'Shall we go for a walk?'
'Sure.'
With their gloved hands clasped together, they left the Great Hall. The opted to follow the path through the herbology gardens and passed most of the walk on the topic of Mei's ancient runes revision and Quidditch practice.
There were few students venturing out into the cold, preferring to spend Valentine's day in the warmth of the castle, and so when he heard their voices approaching he took notice.
He glanced back over his shoulder, and his stomach turned. Edmund Goyle and Clement Rosier had rounded the corner of one of the greenhouses. They weren't walking on the pathway, but instead trudging through the garden beds as if to remain out of sight. They were talking to each other, laughing loudly, but Albus could see them taking it in turns to glance in his direction.
'Albus,' came Mei's voice, as if from far off.
He tore his eyes from the Slytherins and looked back to her. 'Huh?'
'I was talking to you,' said Mei tersely.
'Oh, right… Sorry, I…' But he didn't have an excuse. He looked back towards the Slytherins: they were no longer making an effort to feign disinterest, but rather staring directly at him and Mei.
Mei looked over her shoulder and, seeing what he was looking at, sighed deeply. With her hands on her hips, she started towards the Slytherins.
Albus sprung after her. 'Mei, don't…'
Mei ignored him. 'Excuse me,' she snapped at Goyle and Rosier, 'is there a problem?'
The Slytherins seemed initially startled by Mei's open interrogation, before Goyle seemed to recover. 'I don't know, ask your boyfriend. Is there a problem, Potter?'
'You two don't need to be here,' said Mei coolly. 'You have the whole castle to be in.'
'Mei, come on,' said Albus, tugging at her hand. 'Just forget it.'
Mei ignored him again. 'I can take you to your head of house, you know?'
'Oh, yeah? For what?' demanded Rosier.
'You're in the plimpy bed,' said Mei, gesturing to the fresh dirt the Slytherins were standing in. 'Professor Longbottom just planted those. I'm sure he'd like to know who overturned the soil.'
Scowling, Goyle and Rosier exchanged glances, before they reluctantly started away. They pushed past Albus, and Goyle muttered as he did so, 'I'd watch my back if I were you, Potter.'
Once they Slytherins were out of earshot, Albus turned back to Mei and muttered to her, 'Please don't antagonise them.'
Mei raised her eyebrows. 'I wasn't antagonising them. They shouldn't have been in the garden bed.'
'I know, I just… I'm worried they knew it was me in the Shrieking Shack.'
Mei sighed. 'Well, I told you no good would come of that. Come on, let's sit down.'
Mei took his hand and let him over to the edge of a frozen water fountain. They sat down on the edge of the pool, clinging to each other against the February chill. He raised his hand to brush a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers clumsy beneath his gloves.
'Those boys are such idiots,' said Mei. 'Whether or not you really saw them in the Shrieking Shack-'
'I did see them,' said Albus.
'Yes, well, so many of the kids here are so immature,' said Mei. 'I'm almost wishing this was my last year.'
'Really? You wouldn't miss it?'
Mei frowned at him. 'You don't even like school.'
'Yes, but you do.'
'Well, I'm just ready to start something new, I think,' she told him. 'I just want to pass my NEWTs and apply for the DMLE.'
'I wish I was as set on what I wanted to do as you are,' he sighed. 'I have no idea.'
'Well, my mum doesn't like my plans. She thinks I should go abroad when I finish.'
'Really? To do what?'
'Maybe find an internship in France. I speak a little French, so it wouldn't be too hard.'
Albus nodded, trying to look encouraging, but secretly he hated the idea. Trying to sound unbothered, he said, 'You'd really want to leave Britain?'
'Not exactly,' she said. 'But mum says it's not safe here anymore. She worries about everything, and this Reclamation Army has made her even more worried. She and Adalric are Purebloods, and she thinks that if the Reclamation Army is targeting Purebloods then we could be in trouble.'
'Does Adalric think so too?'
Mei shook her head. 'He tells her not to worry, but she always worries. She's saying he needs to leave the Department of Mysteries – that it's not safe him working at the Ministry after what happened at Christmas. She's been like that ever since my dad died. Everything makes her anxious.'
'I know what that feels like,' said Albus.
'Well, you don't really,' said Mei.
Albus knew she didn't mean to be combative, rather matter-of-fact, but he still felt the need to say sorry. He resisted, however; he had been working on refraining from saying sorry since beginning to date Mei.
'Having someone die makes you realise how suddenly things can change,' she said. 'Adalric understands that, I think. His son died, you see. A long time ago, but I think that's why he and my mum understood each other so well.'
Albus nodded, thinking, before saying slowly, 'I think… I think if you want to go to France you should. But not because of your mum – only if that's what you'd like.'
Mei frowned. 'You'd want me to?'
'No, of course not,' he said quickly. 'Well, I mean… if it would make you happy then I suppose I wouldn't… wouldn't mind.'
'You could come visit,' she told him. 'Or you could come with me.'
Albus liked the idea, but he told himself not to sound too eager. 'Yes, maybe. I mean, if we're still together when we finish school.'
Mei looked at him. 'What does that mean?'
'Well, I mean… You have another year after this one ends, and then I have a year after that… I suppose you might get sick of me.'
'Albus, you have to stop that,' Mei informed him. 'It's so tiring having to constantly assure you that I like you.'
'I know, I know, I'm sorry… I just… I like it when you tell me you like me.'
She rolled her eyes, but inclined to lean her head against his shoulder. 'If we're still together when we've both finished school you should look for a potioneering apprenticeship in France.'
He kissed the top of her head. 'I'd like that.'
She turned to face him, and inclined to kiss him. He breathed in the smell of her hair, raising his arm to pull her against his chest.
'I wish we were in the same house,' he said to her.
'Why do you wish that?'
'So we could be together at night,' he said. 'Instead of trying to figure out when our dorms will be empty, we could just stay up together. I'd like that… I'd like… Well, I just like being with you.'
'I like being with you too.'
'But more than that,' he insisted. He frowned, trying to discern what it was he was trying to tell her. 'I like you a lot, and – no, more than that. I kind of, you know…'
'What?'
He sighed, feeling his cheeks reddening somewhat. 'You know. Love you or – or something.'
She straightened up to look at his squarely in the eye. 'You love me?'
It was the first time had had ever said that to somebody other than his parents. He hadn't even gotten close to doing so with Cassie: no matter how infatuated he had been with her, the few times he had considered the prospect had been too excruciating to spare much time for it. But now, with Mei, it was as if he had been holding onto it for a long time - like it was so ingrained within him that he didn't even mind whether she said it back.
'Yeah,' he said gently. 'I love you.'
Mei considered this for sometime, her dark eyes fixed on him. A few seconds passed in which his mind boggled with anxiety (what if she didn't say it back), before she kissed him again. 'I love you too,' she said to him.
He felt relief wash over him. 'Really?'
'Yes, Albus.'
Laughing, he kissed her again, and she kissed him back, lacing her fingers through his hair. He suddenly wished very much that instead of opting to go for a walk they had instead gone upstairs to either of their dormitories. He wanted to tell Mei this, but telling her would mean he would need to stop kissing her, and he didn't want to do that.
The sound of footsteps finally made him relent. He spun around, expecting to see Goyle and Rosier returning, but instead he found the tall, slim figure of Professor Karim peering at them over the dittany bushes.
Mei practically pushed Albus off of the fountain's edge in her attempt to extricate herself from him. She jumped to her feet, straightening her dress, and saying breathlessly, 'I – Professor – we were just…'
'I'm sorry to interrupt, Ms Zhao,' said Professor Karim. There was a briskness in her voice that told Albus she had more pressing matters to deal with than the compromising situation she had just discovered the two students in. 'I'm going to need all the prefects to escort the students back to their common rooms and keep them there until further notice.'
At this, Albus too got to his feet. 'What's happened? Is – is someone hurt?'
'I can't tell you as I don't know,' Professor Karim told him. 'Professor Sinistra only said she needs the students back in their common rooms as quickly as possible. That includes yourself, Mr Potter.'
Wrangling a hundred Gryffindors into returning to their common room on a Saturday afternoon was about as easy a prospect as it sounds. It was for this reason that Rose left most of the duty to the other prefects.
After shepherding a few panicky first-years back to their dormitory, she deemed that her portion of the task was seemingly complete. Albus had gone to his dormitory after his date with Mei had been cut short, and Chandra was across the room talking excitedly with Elena Fortescue and Sally Wood about the dates they had had that day. Not wanting to be part of such a conversation, Rose settled herself down in the corner of the common room with her book.
A good half hour after the rest of the Gryffindors had been accounted for, the portrait hole was thrown open to permit James and Finlay into the room. They were each holding a slab of ale over their shoulders and, finding the common room far more crowded than they had been anticipating, looked around for somebody to offer an explanation. Seeing Rose sitting along, they crossed the room to join her.
'Hullo, Rosie,' said James.
'Hello,' said Rose. 'Where have you two been?'
'Getting supplies for this evening. We have dates we need to impress.'
They each set their slab of ale down on the ground and James tore his open. He pulled out a bottle each for himself and Finlay. With all other seats occupied by the babbling students, the two seventh years dropped down on either side of her, squeezing themselves into her arm chair.
James took a swig of beer and gestured to the swarm of students occupying the common room. 'So, who died?'
Rose managed to extricate herself from between them and sat herself down on the rug at their feet. 'Nobody that I know of. We were told we had to get all the students back into the common room and then to meet at the prefects' office at five.'
Finlay raised his eyebrows. 'Exciting.'
'Very,' concurred Rose.
'Got to hope it's not one of our parents, don't you?' chortled James.
'I doubt they'd send me out to round up students if it was,' said Rose.
'Good point. Where's my darling brother?'
'He went to his dormitory after he got back from seeing Mei.'
'Gross,' said James. 'Don't worry, Rosie, you'll find someone who can deal with you one day.'
'Thank you, James.'
As is to compensate for James's lack of manners, Finlay reached into the cask of ale and withdrew a bottle of ale, offering it to Rose. 'Rosie, have a drink.'
Rose didn't protest, and took the offered ale, uncapping it with a tap of her wand and drinking deeply. The taste of the cheap ale was bitter in her mouth, but she still sipped at it.
'This is awful,' she told them.
'Well, excuse us,' said James. 'We're not made of money.'
'How'd you get out of the castle?' she asked them. 'I heard the passageway on the third floor got closed up.'
'Oh, we have our ways,' said James sagely.
Rose didn't inquire further, sipping her ale. Her lack of inquiring was apparently insufficient, as it seemed James wanted to recount the story for somebody, and so he proceeded to detail for her their gruelling excavation of an alternative passageway out of the school. The story had a lot gratuitous detail and self-aggrandising drama that was to be expected from James, and he spoke for so long that by the time he finished Rose had finished her ale and started on her second. Rose noticed, however, that the immersive story was missing one important detail.
'And which passageway is this?' she asked him. 'Where does it start and where does it lead to?'
'Sorry, Rosie,' said James. 'That information stays with Fin and me. We can't risk some prat telling the teachers about it and closing it up like the last one. Not that it should matter to you. Little baby Rosie still needs her big cousins to buy her her ale.'
Rose rolled her eyes, sipping her drink.
'Don't worry, Rosie,' said James. 'You've only got until September and then the world is your oyster.'
'My birthday's in October,' she corrected.
'Yeah, that's what I said.'
'Being seventeen's not all it's cracked up to be,' Finlay assured her. 'You have to start thinking about, like… your future and shit.'
'Do you know what you'll do after you finish?' she asked him.
'I don't know,' mused Finlay, tapping his bottle of ale with his fingers. He seemed unable to look either of them in the eye when he said, 'I was thinking of, you know… the Auror Office or something.'
Rose raised her eyebrows. 'The Auror Office?'
'Yeah.'
'You mean, becoming an auror or…'
'Yeah, an auror.'
'Oh,' said Rose. She didn't have anything else to say, so she sipped her beer.
'Just tell him he's an idiot,' grumbled James. 'Go on, tell him.'
Rose hesitated, before saying resolutely, 'You're an idiot.'
Finlay gave a grim smile. 'Yeah, well. We all need to make money somehow.'
'But you don't need to be an auror,' said Rose.
Finlay didn't seem perturbed by her admonishment, but he did seem to want to offer some sort of justification, for he continued. 'I just… you know. I feel like it would be shitty of me not to. After our parents fought in a war, for us to just do nothing.'
'They did that so we wouldn't have to though,' said Rose.
Finlay shrugged and sipped his beer. 'I suppose.'
James gave his hands a sharp clap. 'Alright, enough of this serious shit. Rose, tell me. How do you plan to put an end to Albus and Mei Zhao?'
Two ales down, Rose found it a lot easier to laugh at James's jokes. 'I don't know. Arson, perhaps.'
'Oh, but they're cute,' cooed Finlay. 'You guys are just heartless.'
'And now he's friends with Malfoy,' said James. 'What are we going to do with him?'
'Now that I don't approve of,' concurred Finlay.
Rose nodded and drained the last of her second beer. 'Who are your dates with?'
'Anadia Indra,' said Finlay.
'Either Lydia or Corrina,' said James.
'You don't know yet?' Rose asked him.
'I like to keep my options open. Lydia talks too much, but Corrina is impossible to get away from. Though I suppose seeming we can't leave the common room it will have to be Corrina.' James glanced at his watch. 'Speaking of which, it's five o'clock. Rosie's running late.'
Rose grabbed James's hand to see his watch for herself. She gave a groan. 'Shit.'
'Lucy won't be happy with you,' James chortled.
'Lucy detests me at the best of times,' said Rose, snatching up a third bottle of ale from the slab. 'I'm taking this for the road.'
'Our thoughts and prayers are with you,' said Finlay.
'Appreciate it,' replied Rose. 'Don't be dicks tonight.'
She climbed out of the portrait hole with her ale in hand. She nursed it as she traversed through corridors. The sun hadn't yet set, and it was strange to see the corridors so devoid of students.
It was a lot easier to tell herself nothing was serious when she had drunk three bottles of ale. As she walked, she became more and more convinced there was no cause for alarm and that, like her parents, the head mistress was merely paranoid.
When she arrived at the prefects' office, she vanished her now empty bottle of ale with a flick of her wand. She paused before the door, straightening her skirt and brushing her hair from her face in the hope of looking presentable.
'You're late.'
She glanced over her shoulder. Scorpius Malfoy was striding towards her with his hands in his pockets. He looked just as unimpressed about being called to a prefect meeting on a Saturday afternoon as she was feeling.
'Ditto,' she said.
They hadn't spoken to each other since their prefect patrol at the beginning of the week. She took in the sight of him; his blue and silver prefects' badge sitting askew, his dragon hide school shoes, his shoulder length hair that was nearly as long as her own.
She remembered, quite distantly, that after leaving prefect duty the other night she had been feeling substantially less irked by the thought of him. She tried to force herself to remember that new found ambivalence, for at that moment her feelings of distaste for him had resurfaced.
'Suppose we should go inside,' he said to her.
'Suppose so,' she replied.
Though they were in consensus, it seemed neither of them were willing to action the agreement.
He leant against the wall, plunging his hands into his pockets. 'What do you reckon this is about?'
She too settled herself against the wall and shut her eyes. 'No idea.'
'Have a good Valentine's Day?'
She gave a sharp laugh. 'Do you want me to confirm for you that I had no plans whatsoever?'
'It's okay, I don't need that confirmed. I presumed as much. I had a great day, thank you for asking.'
'Did you and Zaina go kick some puppies?'
'How'd you know?'
'And hex some Muggle-borns?'
She heard Scorpius sigh and she looked at him.
'Do you ever get tired of picking a fight?' he asked.
'You were just mocking me for being single. Am I not supposed to say anything back?'
'I didn't mock you. It was an innocent question. If being single bothers you so much then lower your standards.'
At the sound of the door opening, both Rose and Scorpius straightened up. Neville was standing in the doorway, looking strained.
'We've been waiting for you two,' he informed them.
'We forgot the password,' said Scorpius.
Sighing, Neville stepped aside to allow them to enter. 'You might like to try knocking next time.'
They were the last of the prefects to arrive. The others were all sitting around their house tables, Mei Zhao and Zaina Faheem glaring at the two new comers. At the front of the room Lucy and the head boy were standing with Professor Sinistra and the other three heads of house: Professor Karim, Professor Smith, and Professor Fancourt.
As Scorpius hurried over to the Ravenclaw table and she to the Gryffindor, Neville shut the door after him and re-joined his colleagues at the front of the room.
Professor Sinistra drew a steadying breath, gazing out at the prefects, before she said evenly. 'To begin, I just want to assure you all that we are in no danger – nobody has been injured, and the school is very secure.'
There was a murmur of speculation from around the prefects, and Sinistra raised her hand, calling for silence. 'And,' she continued, 'I'd like to thank you all for your timely efforts escorting your fellow students back to their common rooms. I can confirm everybody has been accounted for.'
'Excuse me, Professor?' said Hamish Coote, thrusting his hand uncertainly into the air. 'I'm sorry, but… I just don't really get what we're doing here.'
'The head mistress is going to explain, Coote,' snapped Professor Smith, but Sinistra once again held up her hand for silence.
'Of course, Mr Coote,' said the head mistress evenly. 'Now, once again, there is no cause for alarm, but we've had it confirmed that earlier today there was an attempt by intruders to penetrate the protective charms around the school.'
This time, the head mistress allowed no time for the prefects to react, and she continued briskly over their murmurs of surprise. 'Now, you need to know that this attempt was unsuccessful. The school has very powerful wards, and the Auror Office was on the scene within minutes. However, the suspects are still at large and the Ministry has confirmed that they have received contact from the Reclamation Army claiming responsibility for the attack.
'Now, as this only occurred a few hours ago, we are of course still assessing the situation. But I can confirm for you now that until further notice, the Ministry will be stationing a permanent auror presence at the school. This means that prefect patrol will be postponed to be replaced by aurors, and a new set of rules will be introduced for students to follow.'
At this news, Rose breathed a sigh of relief: no more prefect duty. She glanced across the room towards the Ravenclaw table and met Scorpius's eye. Beneath the table, he raised a hand to give her a thumbs-up.
Professor Sinistra proceeded to recount for them the new school rules that they were to relay to their house-mates in the common room; curfew would now begin two hours earlier at eight o'clock, teachers would be escorting students to and from classes, and all Hogsmeade visits would be postponed. This last point sparked a wave of protests from around the room.
'Quiet, all of you,' ordered Professor Sinistra. 'This is no time for whining. You are prefects, and it is your duty to have the safety of yourselves and your fellow students as your first priority. Now, these rules are to be implemented immediately, and as we assess the situation we may be introducing more. It is your responsibility to assist your professors in helping other students understand the importance of these new rules. Is that clear?'
From around the room, unhappy students were glaring back at their head mistress.
Sinistra passed her eyes over the room, and said more forcefully, 'Is that clear?'
There was a murmur of consent from amongst the prefects and Sinistra nodded, satisfied. 'Good. Myself and your heads of house now need to confer with the Auror Office, and so I trust that all of you will inform your house-mates of the situation. Now, if you could please get into pairs with your patrol partner and stand sentry until the aurors are able to relieve of your position for the evening.'
The head mistress waved her wand. On the chalkboard, a list of names appeared with their designated location. She and Scorpius had been assigned to the west exit.
There was a collective scuffle of chairs against floorboards as the prefects got to their feet, convening with the patrol partner. She waited by the door as Scorpius trudged over to meet her and they left the room, starting along the corridor towards the west exit.
'Did you know about this?' he asked her in an undertone. 'Has your dad told you anything?'
She rolled her eyes. 'My dad would never tell me anything about this. I found out all that just as you did.'
Scorpius sighed, disappointed. 'So, after all that our Hogsmeade visits are cancelled anyway.'
'I know. The Reclamation Army has really crossed a line now.'
'Well, who needs Hogsmeade anyway?'
'Exactly,' she said. 'I can go to a village whenever I want.'
'Yeah, who cares, I mean… What even is Hogsmeade? It's in Scotland, right?'
She rolled her eyes to stop herself from laughing. 'You're too funny.'
'You started it.'
'It's run its course, I'm afraid.'
'Just like our obligation to be civil with each other.'
'Yes, and we've done so well,' she mused dryly.
'Hey, we've done alright the last few days.'
'We haven't spoken in three days.'
'Yeah, well… We were managing the other night, don't you think?'
'I suppose.'
They reached the oak doors of the west exit. The ale was starting to wear off and was leaving her with a drained, dazed feeling, and sat down on the floor of the corridor and leant against the wall, hugging her knees to herself. Scorpius dawdled at the door, standing with his hands in his pockets once more.
'I hope these aurors hurry up,' sighed Rose. 'I want to sleep.'
'Yeah, I meant to ask – have you been drinking or something?'
She frowned at him. She didn't like that he was able to pick that. 'Why do you ask?'
'You're just – I don't know. Not as shitty as you usually are.'
'My cousin gave me some ale.'
'Ah, thought so.' Scorpius glanced at his watch, before sinking down onto the ground, folding his arms over his chest. 'What do you think the Reclamation Army wants to get into the school for, anyway?
'Who knows? Your dragon hide shoes, perhaps?'
'Will you ever let that go?'
'Well, I don't expect we'll ever need to speak to each other again, so don't worry about it.'
'You're probably right.'
They sat in silence, Rose resting her head against her knees while Scorpius stared at his shoes in contemplation.
Several minutes passed, before she heard Scorpius say, 'Look, Weasley, can I ask you something?'
She turned her dark eyes to meet his. Guardedly, she said, 'Maybe.'
'Just out of interest, why do you… I mean, why do you seem to care so little about what happens at the Ministry?'
'What do you mean?'
'You throw around these kind of grandiose accusations, reminding me what my dad was, but when Albus asked you to come with us to find out what the Slytherins were doing, I mean… Why were you so reluctant?'
'I knew it wouldn't get you anywhere,' said Rose simply.
'How could you know that, though? How could you not want to know what was really going on?'
'I just don't want to be involved,' she told him. 'It's not my job to try to do what the aurors are supposed to be doing. If the Ministry can't protect people then I don't think I can either.'
'But if you could help, don't you think you ought to try? I mean, you say you don't want Rowle to be in power but…'
'But I don't want to get myself into something I can't get out of,' she informed him. 'My parents are – they're strange people, and they are that way because they didn't grow up the way normal people do. They're paranoid and guarded and – and I don't want to be like that. I'm not interested in fighting in a war.'
'Well, neither am I,' he said. 'But I mean… you just… Look, I don't know. I don't get it.'
'No, you don't get it. So don't bother trying to figure it out.'
'Is that why you don't like talking about your parents?'
'What do you mean?'
'When I mentioned meeting with you dad, and you said that you didn't want to talk about it.'
'I don't like hearing about Ministry stuff.'
'But you must be used to it, I mean, with your mum being the head of the DMLE and your dad having worked as an auror for so long.'
'My parents tell me nothing about their work,' she said. 'All my life, they've been like that. They don't want to tell me about it, as if they think that if they don't tell me I'll never hear about what happened during the war. And that's wrong, of course – of course I know about it. All their not telling me does is – is make me angry with them. Before I came to school I had no idea how many books had been written about them. I mean, there's a whole section of the library about the Second Wizarding War.'
'They never talked to you about what happened to them?'
'I mean, it wasn't like they had never told me there was a war. I knew there was a war in the nineties, and I knew they helped the Ministry, but I never really knew… I mean, the way the told it was as if it was a few weeks of tension. And then I arrived at school, and for the first time I was out around witches and wizards without my parents being able to explain away why people stare at us. So I started reading about the war, and about my parents and what they did and they just… they just didn't tell me. And even now – I'm seventeen in October and I had to find out my dad was working for the Auror Office from the Daily Prophet.'
Frowning, he asked her, 'Your dad didn't tell you why he was going back?'
'If I hadn't read his biography I wouldn't have even known he was an auror,' she said. 'He's never mentioned it.'
'What, never?'
'Never.'
'That's bizarre.'
It seemed she had found something they could agree on. 'Yes, it is.'
There was another silence, and when he spoke again his voice had changed. It wasn't the teasing drawl he used with her, but something more authentic. 'Look. I know it's not really the same, but my parents are similar. They're not very honest with me.'
'Yes,' she said, 'but that's not that weird. I wouldn't want people knowing I was a Death Eater either.'
'Why do you do that?'
She glanced at him to find him watching her with sharp, grey eyes. 'Do what?' she asked.
'Wait until I'm not expecting and then remind me that my dad was a Death Eater. I know he was a Death Eater. You don't need to remind me.'
She found herself surprised by this. He hadn't sound angry - more exasperated. 'Does it honestly bother you that much?' she asked him.
'What?'
'Being reminded of what your dad did during the war.'
'It wouldn't bother you?'
'Well, I wouldn't know. My parents weren't Death Eaters.'
He gave a low, growling sigh. 'See, it's that – things like that. You prove over and over again that you have no interest to standing up to blood supremacists, and yet you jump at any chance you get to throw my dad in my face. I don't like him anymore than you do, alright?'
This caught her off guard. There were times in her life when she had thought she loathed her parents, in the midst of fights with her mother about using magic outside of school, and when her father spoke to her like a child in the teasing way he did, and when she would walk into the room while they spoke to Harry about the Second Wizarding War and fell silent at the sight of her. But these were moments of anger, fleeting thuds of frustrations that she would regret immediately. Even when she loathed her parents she still liked them - still loved them. It was hard to imagine anything else.
'You don't like him?' she asked before she could stop herself.
Scorpius's face softened a little, looking sheepish, and he said with much less conviction. 'Well, you know, I mean... I mean I still like him... he's my dad. I just - I just meant I don't like what he did during the war, alright?'
'Right,' said Rose, but she wasn't fully convinced. 'Well, go on about how hard your life is.'
'I didn't say my life was hard,' he retorted. 'I just meant that my parents – they keep things from me too. I mean… I mean my mum's always been kind of – she's never had the best health in the world.
He paused to clear his throat, and she could see his Adam's apple bob beneath his pale skin. In the darkness beneath the flickering torches, his hollow cheekbones cast shadows over the side of his face.
'And I mean – I mean she's fine,' he continued, 'but she had a miscarriage in August and it kind of – affected her.'
When he said the word miscarriage, Rose sat up to look at him. It was strange to hear him speak like that – uncertain and hesitant and unable to look her in the eye. She didn't have anything of use to say, and so she sufficed to say nothing.
'And then when I went home for Christmas she told she was pregnant again and I just – I just wish she had told me in advance. I just wish I had known what to expect. So, yeah,' he continued, 'I guess I know what you mean.'
She wracked her brain for a response and settled upon the pointless, pitiful utterance of, 'That must be hard.'
'Yeah, I suppose.'
The sound of footsteps echoing along the corridor caused them both to start. They jumped to their feet in time to see Professor Fancourt leading two aurors along the corridor to meet them. Professor Fancourt dismissed the two prefects and turned back to the aurors to begin discussing security wards.
She and Scorpius walked in silence towards the staircase. Rose felt that anything she could have said in the wake of what he had just told her would be somehow hollow.
She tried to remember what it was she had been telling him before he told her about his mother, but the ale made it hard to remember what it was, or why she had said it at all. It had been so many things – so much bullshit – about her parents and her frustration and her childishness.
And then he had told her something real – something awful – and she had said nothing. It confirmed for her what she already knew (that she wasn't a good person) and suggested to her something she had never considered until now: perhaps, in some diminutive, stunted, contrived way, Scorpius Malfoy was a good person.
'This is you, right?'
She had been so immersed in her thoughts that she was surprised to hear his voice. She glanced at him to find him gesturing up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower.
'Oh, yeah… I forgot where I was going.'
Scorpius smirked. 'You need to sober up, Weasley.'
'I think I should go to sleep.'
'Yeah, you look pretty bad.
'Thanks.' She tried to meet his eye, but found it difficult, and so settled upon staring at the stain glass window behind him. 'Well, I'll see you.'
'Yeah, see you,' he said. 'And, you know… if you ever need help with geography you know who to ask.'
'Thank you. If you ever need to trick people into think you're intelligent, I have lots of Muggle books you can pretend to read.'
He laughed, before raising a pale hand in farewell. 'Sleep well.'
'You, too.'
She was relieved to turn away, starting up the stairs to Gryffindor tower, but she had only made it a few steps up before he called her back.
'Hey, wait, Weasley…'
She glanced back over her shoulder. 'Yes?'
He was looking up at her with a kind of half smile. He seemed unaware what to do with his hands, trying to straighten the sleeves of his sweater. When he spoke, it was in the same uneasy voice he had used as they had sat on the floor at the west exit.
'What I told you, about my mum being sick… I just… I don't know why I told you that.'
She couldn't stop herself from frowning. 'Okay.'
'I just… it was a stupid thing to bring up. The only people who know about it are Al and Zaina and... I don't really want people finding out. I just, I mean... I guess I thought because you were talking about your parents…'
'I'm not going to tell anybody if that's what you mean,' said Rose.
He raised his eyebrows. He seemed genuinely surprised by this. 'Oh. Right, well… I appreciate that.'
There was another silence, in which neither of them looked at each other.
He broke the silence to say, 'I guess it's actually true, isn't it? Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.'
'Very profound, Malfoy.'
'Thanks. It's Shakespeare, you know?'
Rose sighed to stop herself from laughing. 'Goodnight,' she said tiredly.
'That was a joke,' he informed her.
'Yes, it was very funny. Goodbye.'
'I'm kidding. I know it was Orwell.'
'Goodbye, Malfoy.'
He was laughing. 'Goodbye.'
And once again they turned away and strode away from each other.
Song credit: Harlequin Dream by Boy & Bear.
A/N: Did someone say mumblecore?
This chapter is ridiculously long and like... not much happened. If you made it this far so much for reading!
If you have any thoughts please let me know in a review, I will love you forever! x
