'So that's little Scorpius,' said Ron under his breath. 'Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains.'
'Ron, for heaven's sake,' said Hermione, half-stern, half-amused. 'Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!'
'You're right, sorry,' said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, 'don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pure-blood.'
Since early childhood, Rose Granger-Weasley has been firmly assimilating: she has to achieve everything on her own. Not counting on anyone's help.
It's not that her parents didn't have the means or desire to provide her with a carefree childhood, a good career or a comfortable life — quite the opposite. The daughter of the Deputy head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a successful Auror clearly had no reason to worry about her future.
However, for Rose Granger-Weasley, achieving everything herself becomes a matter of principle.
Because Rose can't be unworthy of her mother, the brightest witch of her age. Unworthy of her father, a prefect, a captain of a Quidditch team. Unworthy of the "Chosen" Uncle Harry, the captain of the "Holyhead Harpies" Aunt Ginny, other uncles, aunts and endless cousins. Rose knows: she has to become the best. Exactly as she understands that to accomplish this she will need to work very hard. After all, she is (damn it) the "golden youth" for everyone. The daughter of heroes.
Whatever she becomes, for everyone she will always be not Rose, but the daughter of the very Weasley and Granger.
No matter what she has achieved, they will always say that it is "natural" and "it could not have been any other way."
No matter what heights she has reached, her merits will never be recognized. Any of her success will be explained by what? — that's right, money and the influence of parents.
And that's why Rose knows that just being the best is not enough for her. She needs to prove that she deserves it. And she'll prove it, damn it. She will.
When Rose says that, of course, she has already learned all the textbooks by heart, the younger Potters' jaws drop simultaneously.
'Merlin, Rosie, you're crazy!' James finally says, plopping into a chair with a flourish, and Rose mentally corrects: not crazy, but outstanding. The difference is enormous, if you think about it.
'Learn all textbooks by heart... What for?' Al asks in shock, looking around the bookshelf bursting with books, and Rose shrugs her shoulders.
'Mom used to do that, too,' she says, as if it was the case.
'Your mom was Muggle-born! Why would you do that? You already know everything about magic!' James exclaims with conviction, and Rose, sighing, once again begins to explain: it is impossible to know "everything". She just wants to know what she is going to study, and nothing more.
James, of course, ignores all these arguments.
'Really? Tell me straight out: you want to show everyone from the first day who is the best here.'
Rose raises her eyebrows, as if asking: "Is someone against it?". James, having correctly interpreted her look, raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
'And that's wonderful! If you become the best in the course, I will be only glad. Consider me your most loyal fan!'
'Why such enthusiasm?' Rose smiles incredulously, sinking onto the sofa and pulling Albus with her. James lets out a loud whistle.
'Well, how? Malfoy is going to school this year. Scorpius Malfoy. The son of the same Malfoy…'
'... who caused our parents so much trouble while studying at Hogwarts,' Rose continues, and resolute wrinkles appear on her forehead. 'I know.'
'Merlin, is there anything you don't know?' James throws a pillow at her, and Rose laughs, trying to hide her anxiety.
Yes, she has. She doesn't know how smart that Malfoy is. And whether he will become a competitor for her.
Yes, Mom. Okay, Mom. Of course, Mom, I took everything, Mom.
Rose took everything, of course. The suitcase is packed — so long as no one tries to lift it, because with its compactness it weighs almost half of Rose. The Hogwarts robe is neatly packed in a bag so as not to mess with the suitcase on the train, there is also a comb, a jumper, an umbrella, napkins, apples, Grandma Molly's sandwiches, a couple of books and knitting.
'James! Jeeames!' Steve's dark-haired head sticks out of the train window. Steven Longbottom is the son of two Hogwarts teachers as well as the best friend of James. Even though at first glance there is nothing in common between them: James is a funny guy and a jerk (who inexplicably manages to be one of the best students of the course), and Steven is a real exemplary student, not so much gifted as diligent. At the same time, their younger sisters — Lily Luna and Alice Pandora — are also close friends.
'We've taken our seats!' Jessica Wood reports, appearing next to Steven, and James' face lights up with a smile. Red-haired Jessica is a goalkeeper, just like her father. Jessica is tall and strong, she and James have been training all summer to get back in the team.
Rose is one hundred percent sure that three more seats in their compartment are occupied by Archie Thomas, Roy Finnigan and dark-skinned Roxy Weasley, about whom James has told so much. Well, the last place, the sixth, is intended for Potter himself.
Rose knows in advance that James will sit with her and Al for no more than a quarter of an hour, and then he will leave for his company. Rose even knows exactly what Potter will say: these are his classmates, they haven't seen each other all summer, they need to exchange news and so on, Rose is smart, Rose should understand, Rose should forgive. Rose is smart, Rose understands, Rose forgives. Rose tightens her grip on the hand of the timid Albus and pulls him into the carriage. She must be confident, strong, brave. She can handle it.
Rose writes to Lily on the very first weekend.
She says that she and Al got there without any incident, that they were travelling in a compartment with Louis and Dominique, that, of course, they all got to Gryffindor. That Mom doesn't have to worry about whether Rose will have friends: she's already made friends with Katie Thomas. And in general, let parents not worry: Rose likes her lessons, Professor Longbottom is very kind, and the library at Hogwarts is just amazing. Finally, Rose writes that she and Al were accepted into the Quidditch team and expresses a modest hope that this news will please her father and Lily's parents.
Rose writes Lily only good things.
Rose doesn't write about what really bothers her.
Rose does not write that she is one of the best in all subjects — Rose needs to be modest, not to push herself out, not to be a bore and an unbearable know-it-all, Rose does not want to repeat her mother's mistakes, right?
Rose does not write that many teachers believe that she inherited her mother's abilities. And this, by the way, angers her, as another confirmation that she is not seen as her, but only a copy of her mother. But Rose, of course, would never write about it. After all, you can't be such an upstart, you can't talk about yourself so much, Lily probably isn't interested in all this.
And Rose also doesn't write that Al has become friends with Malfoy — at least because writing about it means really acknowledging this fact. And Rose doesn't want to admit it. Rose believes that this is just a temporary whim, Albus will come to his senses.
Although sometimes Rose feels that it's her fault. It was she who sat on Potions with Katie, and she could have with Albus, and then Albus would not have to work together with the only one left without a pair Malfoy. And Malfoy wouldn't have lied to Albus out of the blue, wouldn't have pitied him with stupid stories and wouldn't have forced himself on him as a friend.
Rose can't believe that she and Albus — the quiet-balanced-obedient-Albus who always recognized Rosin's authority — are starting to argue, and because of some kind of Malfoy!
Rose does not know how else to explain that Albus should not communicate with a child from the Malfoy family.
Rose talks about the Death Eaters, about the enmity of parents, about Slytherin, about pure-blooded snobbery, about the spoiled sons of rich parents who get everything at the snap of their fingers. Rose freaks out, Rose goes into a scream, Rose throws out everything she thinks about snakes, ferrets and naive sheeps, Rose makes a scandal right in the Gryffindor living room, while a terrified Albus, turning pale, crumples a sofa cushion in his hands, James stupidly rushes with a glass of ice water, and Katie coolly takes everyone away from Rose's anger.
In the end, Rose just cries, curled up on the couch, hiccupping, asking Albus for forgiveness, while Katie strokes her trembling back, and James holds her palms in his. And after crying, Rose, as if nothing had happened, gets up, wipes her wet face and says dryly, without a single drop of emotion in her voice: 'And yet you have to stop communicating with him, Al, and that's not to be discussed.'
Rose doesn't write about all this.
Albus does.
Writes — ponders — tears up the letter — writes again — tears up — writes — sends.
And while waiting for an answer, sits with Malfoy at Potions, DADA and Transfiguration.
James tells his brother that he is a fool.
Katie earnestly asks not to loom guiltily in front of Rose and let her cool down.
Rose doesn't talk to him.
'In my opinion, you need to let him decide for himself,' James says carefully at breakfast, while Albus drives a spoon in porridge without appetite, and Rose drinks scalding coffee in small sips (although she always said that coffee is harmful until the age of fourteen). Albus does his best not to eavesdrop, but his cheeks and ears turn red, while Rose's freckles turn white with anger.
'Rosie, listen to me, please,' James continues in an unusually soft tone. 'You're used to Hugo being younger and Hugo listening to you. This is probably right, you are, after all, his older sister, you are responsible for him - to some extent. But Albus is not your brother.'
'He's my cousin. He's like a brother to me!' Rose hisses, and James immediately starts nodding.
'Yes, Rose, yes. But you can't decide for him what's best for him. You can't, in principle, know for others what's best for them. You can't tell others what to do.'
'Come on, say it!' — Rose mentally demands, and James, sighing, says:
'Don't think that you know everything better than others.'
Now Rose doesn't talk to James either.
Rose is sitting all alone in the library and thinking about all sorts of nonsense. Nonsense — that is, Scorpius Malfoy.
She remembers their first meeting — a real meeting, not a correspondence acquaintance from the parents' stories and not a vague nod to King's Cross. They run into each other on the train: Rose, along with James, goes to his compartment to say hello to his classmates, and Malfoy is probably returning from the restroom. And Rose recognizes him immediately — as her parents said, he is the spitting image of Draco Malfoy.
And Rose knows that Draco Malfoy insulted her mother. Mudblood, he called her.
Rose knows that Draco Malfoy mocked Uncle Harry — oh, yes, it's so funny: joking about the fact that someone has no parents.
Rose knows that Draco Malfoy mocked her father: "Red, in the rags of his brothers... you must be a Weasley."
And Rose also knows that Draco Malfoy was still smart — both mom and Uncle Harry admitted that.
And that's why Rose is afraid. She is afraid of this mysterious pale boy, the son of Draco Malfoy, until his knees give way and sweaty palms. She is afraid to make out the contemptuous "half-breed", she is afraid to hear something about her too lush, too curly and too red hair, she is afraid that Malfoy will somehow humiliate her, insult her, that he will be ahead of her in studies…
Rose needs to defend herself from him.
And the best defense is a good offense.
And Rose, in a typical Malfoy (from Uncle Harry's stories) manner, raises her eyebrows and pronounces mockingly and drawlingly: 'Well, well… White hair, pale, as if from a dungeon, in clothes bought by rich ancestors... you must be Malfoy.'
And judging by Scorpius' long face, Rose manages to embarrass him.
Rose exhales.
She defended herself.
And, sitting in the library, Rose repeatedly replays that moment in her memory until she realizes what exactly is confusing her. She defended herself before the attack.
After a conversation with Professor Longbottom, Rose becomes ashamed, then ashamed, and then a bit more ashamed. First, she wasted the dean's time. Secondly, she upset the dean. Thirdly…
...oh, okay, thirdly, she really may have gone a little too far.
Perhaps.
Rose admits: keeping friends is probably much more important than always being right.
Rose apologizes to Albus, but only for her short temper.
Rose hugs both Potters, kisses James on the cheek, and Albus on the dark-haired top of his head.
Rose spends her free time with them again, laughs, sits next to them at the Gryffindor table, trains with them to the point of exhaustion and hugs them before going to the bedroom.
And yet Rose still believes that Albus should not communicate with Scorpius, and still does not look in their direction on Potions, Transfiguration and DADA.
Albus sends a letter home shortly before Halloween, but the answer comes only by December.
Rose actually puts a lot of effort not to look over Al's shoulder — after all, Rose firmly knows that it's impolite to read other people's letters, there may be something personal there, and in general it's wrong. Rose bites her lip, trying to look at her cousin no more than every ten seconds, and flinches when James screams "Well, what's there?", rushes to Al from the doorway and takes the letter from him.
And Rose wants to ask: was it possible?
Does anyone besides her even care about what is right and wrong?
Al puts a letter in front of her, and Granger-Weasley obediently reads, contrary to usual not understanding a drop of what she has read. The lines run and blur, the letters fade and split, the general meaning slips away, but individual phrases seem to jump out of the text. Rose focuses on them and reads them over and over again, as if hoping that this will make their contents clearer.
"We are glad that you have friends", "Thank Merlin, if you end this useless feud", "Don't write to Uncle and Aunt yet, we will prepare them ourselves. I think Hermione will understand. It will probably be more difficult with Ron...", "Remember: we are always on your side", and finally, "Don't be offended by Rose, after a while she will understand everything."
Rose gulps, and Malfoy's cold grin appears in her head.
By mid-March, the relationship between Rose and Scorpius reaches a new level: irreconcilable enmity.
The era of total disregard, of contempt and demonstrative "not noticing" each other remains in the distant past. Now every paired lesson of Gryffindor and Slytherin is a field of intellectual combat, and the squabbles in the corridors are often magical (they refuse Muggle when Scorpius's aristocratic nose, upon close acquaintance with Rose's fist, acquires much less classical forms, and Rose loses one of her teeth).
Rose spends long hours in the library, learns dozens of new evil eyes, spells and сurses, and learns to snatch a wand with speed that any cowboy from Muggle movies would envy. But for each of her curses, Malfoy responds with his own, often taken from the same page.
Because they read the same books.
By the end of the school year the Weasleys and Potters gather in a Burrow: at least something in this world remains unchanged, Rose thinks. The same garden gnomes, the same homely grandmother Molly and absent-minded grandfather Arthur, the same gifts and fireworks from Uncle George and Aunt Angelina's store. The same dishes are on the table: the famous veal pie, rhubarb pie, molasses pie, hot chocolate — James jokes that after these holidays the broom will refuse to lift him.
Hugo, Lily, Molly Jr., Lucy and Fred Jr. pounce with questions on the arrivals from Hogwarts. James excitedly tells something about Quidditch and about Jessica, Louis and Dominic tell Hogwarts gossip, Al is understandably silent, and Rose politely answers adult questions, trying not to talk with her mouth full.
'Who did Rose become friends with?' ('With Katie Thomas')
'Dean and Parvati's daughter?' ('And Archie's sister. She is very kind, open, always ready to help')
'What subjects does Rose like?' ('All')
'And most of all?' ('DADA and Transfiguration')
'What about Herbology?' ('Of course')
'How's Neville doing?' ('Professor Longbottom sent his best regards to you')
'What about other teachers?' ('They are too kind')
'And the students?' ('Oh, it couldn't be better')
'And how is Malfoy?'
Rose does not know what to answer her father's sudden question, and therefore only shrinks into a chair in fright, suppressing the urge to look back at Albus. Apparently, Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry never found the time (or did not consider it necessary) to "prepare" their father.
'Malfoy is one of the best at Potions and Potions, Dad,' Rose finally replies. 'But he never managed to get ahead of me. Don't worry, Dad.'
'Malfoy is Albus' best friend,' Louis suddenly interjects, and Rose flinches as if from an electric shock.
'What are you talking about?!' To give James his due, Rose thinks, he has pretty good reaction. 'Louis is kidding, don't pay attention.'
'He's not kidding,' Al says quietly, and Ron's glass of firewhisky falls to the floor. Amber liquid spills over the carpet, but even Molly doesn't notice it.
'Scorpius and I are the best friends. We sit together at all lessons. And he helps me. He's good, really. Uncle Ron?..'
The second year for Rose begins abominably.
Firstly, Professor Flitwick is retiring, and the new teacher, Professor Crystal, may be well versed in Charms, but she absolutely does not know how to maintain discipline in the classroom, which is why lessons turn into some kind of farce. Rose doesn't understand at all why her classmates can't just behave normally and rolls her eyes at their antics over and over again.
Secondly, at the beginning of the semester, Rose falls down with the flu, and Malfoy manages to earn a decent number of points for Slytherin on Potions and DADA. Thank Merlin, Rose misses almost nothing (obviously, she learns the September program in the summer), but restoring her leading positions turns out not easy for her. Rose begins to have vitamin deficiency, a nervous cough and chronic lack of sleep, and James almost forces her to come to Madame Pomfrey for a tonic and sedative.
And thirdly, Scorpius Malfoy is taken as a Slytherin hunter in place of Selwyn, who graduated from school. And Rose gloomily thinks that she would rather voluntarily smear herself on the tower than let Slytherin win.
Rose throws serious tantrums to James over and over again, asking why she needs to demand training from him every day and who is the captain at all. In response, James again and again declares that he wants to see a strong team on the field, and not zombies falling from lack of sleep, and Albus and Jessica fully support him.
Rose can't understand why nobody wants to listen to her.
And first of all it concerns Albus, who stubbornly continues to communicate with Malfoy.
'There you are! Al, aside!'
'Expelliarmus!' the reaction of Malfoy Jr. is excellent.
'Protego! Stupefy! Go away, Al!'
'Mobilicorpus!'
'Reducto!'
'Protego maxima! Granger, are you crazy? You would have launched Avada! Rictusempra!'
'Stupefy!'
'Protego! It has already been one Stupefy! What, Granger, have you given up? Early sclerosis? Incarcero!'
'Do you want to dance? Tarantallegra!'
'Gentlemen invite ladies, not the opposite, Granger! Or it is your mother to have balls in your family?Furnunculus!'
'Don't you dare touch my mother, Malfoy! Confundus!'
'What's the big deal? Nothing bothers you when you say something about my father! Baubillious!'
'Protego! Oh, yes, the evil and bad Weasley completely tormented the poor holy Scorpion! And it's okay that the Scorpion tries to become the favourites of all the teachers, it's okay that he bullied Dominique, it's okay that he sets Albus up against the family! I wish you knew how I hate you! Conjunctivitis!'
'Protego! Granger, what do you need your head for? Should you wear a crow's nest on it or actually think? If I try to become one of the favourites, what is the name of what you do? You'll eat slugs if Gryffindor gets points for it! By the way! Eat slugs!'
'Protego! Petrificus Totalus! You bastard!'
'Protego! As for your cousin, I really have never met a greater fool: even you are an intellectual compared to her! She's a fool, like her brother is a jerk, I thought so and I think so, and I won't apologize! Dantissimo!'
'Protego! Flippendo! Ferret!'
'Donkey! And I'm not setting your brother up against anyone! It's just impossible to be with you at all! You don't see what a nightmare you are! How do they still tolerate you at home?! You're terrorizing everyone around you! Albus told me…'
'SILENSIO!'
Albus's wand is shaking in his hand, but his voice is firm, and the spell works. Rose, flushed, disheveled, with a wicked witch's gleam in her eyes, looks from her cousin to Malfoy and back again, and Albus, instantly losing all resolve, backs away, belatedly realizing why Uncle Ron preferred not to incur the wrath of Mrs. Granger-Weasley.
'Terrorizing, then,' Rose says quietly and gloomily, and the curly mop of dark red hair suddenly seems to Albus like a tangle of angry copper snakes, just like in Muggle myths about the Gorgon Medusa that Aunt Hermione once gave.
Albus is confused in words and thoughts, blushes, turns pale, unable to say anything, while Granger-Weasley glares at him. 'Rose, listen to me…'
'Well,' Rose continues ominously, putting her wand away and crossing her arms over her chest. 'It's very nice, Potter, that you consider my help and care as terror. And it's even nicer to learn it from this,' Rose points contemptuously at Scorpius. 'You could have told me yourself if I'm poisoning your existence so much. I won't bother you anymore. But then,' Rose raises her voice, and for a second Albus thinks she's about to cry, 'don't say I didn't warn you! Is that clear?'
'Clear,' Albus whispers after the retreating Rose, while Malfoy, having finally dealt with the spell, comes up and puts his hand on his shoulder. Albus raises his head.
'I'm sorry,' Scorpius says awkwardly, 'I'm very sorry. I didn't want you and your cousin to fight over me and... well, I'll understand if you want to continue communicating with her and not with me.'
Malfoy pauses, reading the unspoken reproach in Albus' eyes. Hadn't he sworn to him to do everything possible to reconcile with Rose and show himself to her from the best side? Wasn't he trying to be magnanimous and give in to Gryffindor on potions? Hadn't he sworn off ever raising a wand on Granger after the last skirmish?
'I do not know what came over me, honestly. I…'
'Stop it,' Albus interrupts wearily, massaging his temples and forehead. 'That's enough. Passed. I'll talk to her, apologize, as a last resort, wait for the holidays and Christmas, I'll act through Lily—it doesn't matter, I'll reconcile somehow. Relax. See you tomorrow!'
'See you tomorrow,' Scorpius replies with a sigh, following his friend with his eyes. And then he goes to his living room, and hangs by the fireplace for long hours, mentally asking the cold flame: why the hell can he never control himself at the sight of Granger.
'The score is one hundred ninety — sixty in favor of Gryffindor,' Alex Jordan announces, and the stadium responds with a triumphant roar from the scarlet stands and a despondent groan from the greens. The stadium is packed: after all, that's the final of the School Cup.
'Great job of the Gryffindor chaser, James Potter! The ball is in the hands of Roxanne Weasley, now Rose Weasley, Potter again, Roxy again, Rose again and ... Rose Weasley scores a goal! Two hundred—sixty! I've already lost count, but I suppose this to be the twelfth Weasley's goal for the game! Merlin, what is this girl doing! That's what it means to be a Weasley!'
Trying not to listen to Jordan's chatter, Rose quickly sweeps around the field, looking for the quaffle picked up by the Slytherins.
'Rose, is everything okay?' Hugo asks, getting closer and hitting the bludger in the direction of Pewsey. 'If I were you…'
What exactly her brother would do in her place, Rose does not listen to the rest, and, with a brief nod to him, joins the fight for the quaffle again. The fingers clinging to the broom are constrained by tension, the pain in the bruised cheekbone distracts from the game, the back and shoulders feel like something alien, poorly obeying. Rose desperately bites her lip, swooping straight to the ball and snatching it from under Montague's nose. He tries to knock her off the broom, and Rose barely manages to dodge. The next second, Zabini, being next to her, deftly knocks the ball out from under her arm, but Aldridge does not have time to take the pass, and James intercepts the quaffle. He takes off, playfully dodges the bludger and, deceiving Travers with a false throw to the left, throws the ball into the right ring.
210 — 60 — lights up on the scoreboard, and James, flaunting, flies over the field. Rose is more than sure that the gazes of a dozen girls are now directed at her cousin — impetuous, broad-shouldered, artistically disheveled, sitting on a broom so confidently, as if he had grown into one with her. Rose knows that she herself does not look so brilliant: fatigue from twelve breakthroughs is already beginning to tell, her eyes are watering, and her hair most likely resembles a red washcloth.
'Pull yourself together, weakling!' — Rose orders herself, and at this second a golden glare tantalizingly lights up a couple dozen meters away from her. "Al! Where is Al?" — Rose panics in her head, and the next second two figures, emerald and scarlet, rush to the snitch from different sides of the field.
'Damn it!' Rose thinks, and even out loud, 'Damn! Heck!'
If Albus concedes now, it will be a draw. Is this really what he originally wanted? Let us bring the advantage to one hundred and fifty points, and then…
Rose is still thinking, but her broom is already taking off, and in a moment the quaffle launched by Montague is in her hands. Up — make a barrel, leaving the bludger, — slip between Zabini and Aldridge — swing — ring. In the next second, a sharp pain pierces Rose's elbow, and, hit by a bludger, Rose falls down like a stone. And the last thing she hears: "ALBUS POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!"
"To be honest, I was sure you wanted to make a draw," Rose says, clearing her throat after a potion from Madam Pomfrey and leaning back against the pillows. The pain in the broken arm reverberates throughout the body, the back is already beginning to "pull", and a purple cheekbone is reflected in the mirror on the bedside table. But the main thing is that they won. The school Cup is theirs again, for the second year in a row. Albus smiles and squeezes Rose's good hand, showing that he is not offended.
'There was such an idea,' he admits cautiously. 'But then I decided that friendship is friendship, but you can't betray the faculty. And then… Scorp talked me out of it. He knew I wanted to do it. And before the match he had told me it would be unfair. It is no secret that his father bought a place in the team during his school years, and he is different. It is important for him to achieve everything on his own. He's just like you, Rose. I have no idea why you hate each other so much. You are very, very similar'.
Rose ignores his praises of Malfoy (because Malfoy is a notorious scoundrel, a liar, a ferret and a bastard who cannot be trusted in any case), but remembers the main thing: Albus is still on the side of his faculty. So, does it really matter with whom he communicates, if in really important moments he remains a true Gryffindor?
By the third year, Rose is growing up — at least, that's what people say. Rose learns to listen to others without interrupting (at least to utter a huge tirade in response), Rose pulls her hand without jumping up from impatience, Rose puts up with Albus (and apologizes first) and, finally, Rose avoids collisions with Malfoy.
During the first half of the third year, Rose finds herself in the hospital wing only three times — only two duels and one clash at the match. Mere trifles compared to the previous year. Muggle fights and magical duels are replaced by verbal battles, and Rose is surprised to notice that they are equal here too.
'Hey, Malfoy, are you deaf or something? So you're going to block the passage? Took the ingredients and stepped aside, what's not clear here?'
'What, Granger, can't you get through? Look skinny, aren't you? Or does a head the size of a blimp get in the way?'
'Granger, you should at least occasionally look at yourself in the mirror!'
'And you, as I see, don't get away from it, do you?'
'What, Granger, the smartest?'
'Of the two of us — definitely!'
'Wow, Granger, I didn't know you were swearing! Aren't you kind of a good girl? Shame on you! Maybe I should tell Professor Longbottom. Or just McGonagall?'
'Malfoy, hold your verbal incontinence!'
Albus just sighs softly and rolls his eyes when they start bickering again, Katie clicks her tongue disapprovingly, and most of their course turns with delight to look at such a great (and moreover free) entertainment as "hey, shh, look, Malfoy and Weasley are brawling!"
And then they are sitting late in the library again, and Madame Pins again thinks that soon she will not have any books on attacking magic that she could offer to "curious children".
In the fourth year, Rose catches herself on an unexpected thought that she almost does not hate Scorpius Malfoy. At least, Rose can't answer Lily's direct question, what, in fact, makes them constantly swear. After all, "out of habit" sounds stupid, and "just for fun" even more stupid.
Rose doesn't like that Malfoy is ready to answer any question in any lesson, but Katie, after learning about it, ridicules: is Rose the one to be angry at this?
Rose doesn't like that Malfoy is trying to compete with her on Potions, but when half of their course, including Scorpius, goes to the infirmary with the flu, Rose very quickly realizes that she is bored without competition in the lessons.
Rose doesn't like that since last year, when they start new subjects, Malfoy is not inferior to her in Muggle studies, Runes, or Caring for Magical Creatures. Moreover: at the first lesson of CFMC, Malfoy even volunteers to ride the hippogriff first, and Rose, in order not to give in to him, also has to raise her hand, although these "feathered artiodactyls" ((c) James) frighten her to trembling.
And Rose suddenly realizes that it is the fourth year that Malfoy has been communicating with Albus, and it really looks like friendship.
Rose rushes down the snow-covered steps of the West Tower with unusual carelessness, risking tripping and breaking her legs. As Katie says: "There is no person more logical, patient and calm than Rose Granger-Weasley… Until Rose Granger-Weasley starts freaking out." There ais Uncle Harry's letter in Rose's hand, Albus' footsteps behind her.
'Rose, listen...'
'No!'
'Rose!'
'No!'
'ROSE!' Albus's scream sounds with such anguish that Rose stops and, after a moment, turns around, breathing heavily and wiping her face with a scarlet Gryffindor scarf.
Itcan'tbereal, itcan'tbereal, itcan'tbereal…
Albus stops, showing no intention of approaching.
Whyso, whyso, whyso?
'Because we're friends,' Albus answers her unspoken question. 'Scorpius' father is in Mungo with a heavy curse, his mother is clearly not up to Christmas now. No one is waiting for Scorpius at home. No one.'
'And so what?' Rose asks mentally, crossing her arms over her chest in the very Hermione's gesture. Albus gulps.
'And he's staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. And I'm with him. And James is with me. You and Lily can go home, no one bothers. And we've already asked our parents off,' Albus tries to sound firm. In his fourteen-plus years, he is not afraid of thestrals, acromantulas, dementors, flying at crazy speed, or injuries of any severity. But not being terrified by his angry cousin is still something beyond his abilities.
'But we always celebrate Christmas together. It's a family holiday,' Rose says with a new, confused, almost pathetic intonation, and Albus suddenly realizes with surprise that Rose really doesn't know what to say.
Rose, who always has an answer to any question, Rose, who is called the "Iron Lady of Gryffindor", Rose the magnificent huntress, Rose the most brilliant witch of her generation, Rose the gorgeous Granger-Weasley does not know what to say!
"I know, Rosie. But we have someone to celebrate Christmas with. But Scorpius doesn't. That's why I'm staying. You know... Dad also stayed at Hogwarts with Uncle Harry," Albus shrugs, and Rose sees: yes, damn it, this is friendship.
Of course, Rose doesn't get enough sleep at Christmas. 'Shouldn't have read at night!' says James instead of sympathy. Of course, Lily gets up a whole hour earlier than necessary, and Rose inevitably wakes up with her. Try not to get up when someone is nearby yelling, "Oh my God! Jeeeeeames! Aaaaal! Look what Aunt Fleur sent me, no, look, you MUST see it!" rustles packages and boxes.
Of course, the weather, frosty and sunny all week, deteriorates, and right on Christmas Day the sky is covered with heavy clouds. Of course, Rose has a migraine, and her resolutions to read four new books over the holidays go somewhere to Mordred. Of course, there is no question of Quidditch during a blizzard, especially when most of the team went home for Christmas.
At lunch, Rose complains to Steven Longbottom about boredom. By this time, Rose has time to clean up the closet, wash her hair, run to Steven's parents, wish Hagrid a Merry Christmas and send gifts to her parents. Steven frowns, puzzled.
'Listen, do you ever know what's the rest at all?" he asks, and Rose rolls her eyes so as not to say anything unpleasant to Steve.
Doesn't he listen to her at all? She tells him that she does not find a place for herself, that she urgently needs to do something, that she has a lot of free time during the holidays, which should be usefully spent, because then it will not be available, and he advises her to 'rest'? What?
Rose says all this in one breath, and Steven nods with satisfaction, as if she confirmed his own thoughts.
'You know, Rosie, I think you're asking too much of yourself. You need more, cooler, better all the time... Relax, huh? Let go of this "how it should be" and just enjoy what is already there. Family, for example, friends. The fact that you're a witch, you're smart, talented and beautiful, yes, Rose, don't argue, you're beautiful,' he warningly raises his hand when Rose wants to object. 'However, wait. You say you need something to occupy yourself with? I know what you can do.'
'And what is it?' Rose asks skeptically. Steven gives her hand a gentle squeeze.
'Go and wish Sir Nicolas a Merry Christmas. Or even better, the Moaning Myrtle.'
As always, the proximity of the toilet of the Moaning Myrtle can be determined by ear by the incessant sobs and howls. Rose rolls her eyes, slowing her pace. Perhaps Steven's idea does make sense: you can't really feel yourself unhappy comparing to someone so struggling as Mirtle. But to spend a festive evening talking to a crazy ghost… For a second Rose wants to just walk away, and maybe she would, but the next second Rose catches something that makes her freeze in place.
The voice.
Malfoy's voice.
Rose slowly approaches, trying to step as quiet as possible. Almost without breathing, looks through the half-open door. Yes — it really is Malfoy. He is standing, bending low over the sink, and either gurgling something, or choking, or — no, no, it can't be —sobbing. Rose looks at the white stain of the shirt, at the shuddering hunched back and can't relate it to the sarcastic self-confident Malfoy she knows. Or... doesn't know?
Of course, the door creaks at the most inopportune moment.
For a second Rose hopes that Malfoy, engrossed in sobs, will not hear this, but the next moment Scorpius turns around and raises his wand.
'Stupe…' Malfoy begins, but abruptly takes his wand aside upon recognizing Rose. The spell hits one of the side mirrors, a winding crack runs through the amalgam, and the fragments fall on the tile with a hysterical ringing. 'Like in slow motion,' Rose thinks, remembering the Muggle movie her mother showed her. Rose looks at Malfoy's pale face, still shuddering, and thinks that perhaps his problems are more serious than having insufficiently productive holidays.
He can easily kill her, Rose understands, knowing that she will definitely not have time to pull the wand out of her pocket. Two words: Avada Kedavra. That's all.
'I'm sorry,' Rose whispers, looking straight into Malfoy's gray eyes, 'I'm really sorry, I didn't know you were here, I didn't want to...'
'Go away.'
A second ago Rose wanted to turn around and run anywhere from this cold toilet, but now Rose just shakes her head. 'No'.
Malfoy swears softly under his breath, and Rose is surprised to understand far from aristocratic expressions.
'How is your father?..' Rose asks, contrary to common sense which does not stop shouting: run.
Malfoy raises his head. Looks at Rose appraisingly, as if calculating whether she is worthy of an answer.
'Alive. Yet," Malfoy says shortly, and from this "yet" Rose feels like a piece of ice runs down her spine. 'Al blubbed?'
Rose nods, remembering her cousin's halting speech. Collection... dark artifacts... curse... didn't have time to react... blood... unconscious... Mungo... healers doubt that he will survive…
After a moment, Malfoy turns his back on her. He can afford it, Rose thinks: Gryffindors never attack from behind. Malfoy turns off the taps, puts his head under the jet, and the collar of his shirt immediately gets wet and sticks to his neck.
'Does your father mind that you're friends with Al?' The words come out of Rose's mouth before she has time to think, and Malfoy's shoulders twitch strangely.
'No'.
Rose bites her lip, barely restraining herself from asking a dozen more questions. Why does she always have to pull everything out with ticks? Is it really so difficult to answer normally? Is it really necessary to make her look like a chatty and curious girl?
Rose turns her gaze to the mirror and is startled to find the familiar steel of Malfoy's eyes there. Of course, turning his back on her, he continues to watch her reflection!
Scorpius twitches the corner of his mouth a little. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he puts the wand behind his ear. Like Albus, who in turn borrowed this habit from Aunt Luna.
'My father at school wanted to make friends with the Chosen One himself. But... it didn't work out. He was delighted when he found out about my friendship with Al. I think it's because I did what he couldn't.'
Draco Malfoy is glad that his son is friends with Potter's son? Rose raises her eyebrows in disbelief. Scorpius turns to face her again, resting his palms on the sink. Unperturbed as always. And you wouldn't say he was crying if it weren't for the red eyes and the wet tracks on his cheeks.
'Listen, Granger… Did your relatives tell you a lot about Hogwarts at all? About their studies in it? About my father?'
'Why do you call me Granger?' Rose asks in response, and a shadow passes over Malfoy's face.
'Because I was told. And they told a lot. About the chosen Potter and his faithful Weasley. About their friend Granger, who, being Muggle-born, was better than many pure-blooded wizards. Including my father. He was in love with her once, by the way. Although he hated her for always being better. It's not a secret anymore. He wrote to her about it many years ago, when Potter and others saved him from Azkaban. By that time, he already loved my mother, if anything. So, I've been hearing about you all since I was a kid. In fact, I would even say that in our house the names 'Potter', 'Weasley', 'Longbottom', 'Granger' sounded quite often.'
Rose nods.
''Malfoy' is in ours too,' she says, without mentioning the context, however.
'Malfoy? This Slytherin ferret...' – 'Ron!' – 'Yes, so, this bastard...' – 'Ronald!' – 'Sorry, dear. This piece of dog shit...' – 'RONALD!'
Malfoy grins.
'I know. Considering that even at the first meeting someone instantly guessed my last name. What did you say there? "Blond hair, pale, like from a dungeon...' he drawls, imitating Rose's voice, and it takes a few seconds before Rose realizes that they are both laughing.
Merlin.
She and Malfoy are talking and laughing, at Christmas, in the toilet of the Crybaby Myrtle.
Is there anything more unimaginable in this world?
Only that Scorpius holds out his hand to her, and Rose, still hesitantly, shakes it.
'Perhaps we need to get to know each other for real. Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy.'
'Rose. Rose Granger-Weasley.'
Scorpius squeezes her fingers.
'I'll call you Granger.'
They're still enemies, and they still fight at every lesson, but now Rose finds herself thinking that she likes it.
It's like it's some kind of game that accelerates the blood in the body and dispels boredom in the head. Now Rose catches every word of the teachers with even greater diligence and reads the textbooks with even greater endeavour. She has to get around Scorpius Malfoy, no matter what it costs her. Even on Potions and DADA. Especially on Potions and DADA.
It seems that Katie is not at all surprised that in Rose's statements 'that damn Malfoy' is replaced by a more neutral 'Malfoy' or even 'Scorpius', and Albus smiles happily whenever he sees the light greeting nods of his best friend and cousin. And, although Scorpius still snorts mockingly and from time to time parodies Rose's thin voice, and she herself, in turn, spoils his potions more than once or twice, secretly pouring the contents of Louis' cauldron into them, Albus believes that someday they will start communicating normally. At least, sometimes they try.
Sometimes their mutual barbs are replaced by quite normal jokes.
Sometimes they exchange a couple of meaningless phrases.
Sometimes Scorpius asks Rose for something on DADA, and she asks him for Potions.
Sometimes they come to the library at the same time and Scorpius opens the door for Rose. Sometimes Rose helps him find the right book. Sometimes they sit at the same table.
Once Scorpius tells Nott that there are normal ones among the Muggle-born, for example, Granger. Once in a conversation with James, Rose asks not to call Slytherins serpents.
After the farewell feast, Scorpius even congratulates Rose on winning the Gryffindor faculty competition. And, of course, from the point of view of banal politeness, Rose can't help but tell him that if everyone on Slytherin studied like Scorpius, then Gryffindor definitely wouldn't have a chance.
Scorpius shrugs it off, turning the conversation to Quidditch and congratulating Rose on Gryffindor's victory in the school cup. In response, Rose says that she read in The Prophet that Draco Malfoy received an award from the Ministry for neutralizing a number of Dark artifacts, and congratulates Scorpius that his father survived.
And then (Rose herself, honestly, does not know what comes over her) she invites Scorpius to go with them in the same compartment. "Al has been trying to persuade me and James for years, and I've been thinking… I don't mind. Of course, if you want to," she says with forced indifference, and Scorpius, of course, says that he will be very happy to join.
Rose thinks that if it weren't for Dominique's interested, mocking looks and Louis' vulgar jokes, then this trip could have been one of the best in her life. Rose doesn't even open her books: she's too interested in chatting with Al and Scorpius.
And it turns out that Al is not nearly as silent and shy as she thought. It turns out that Al has a good outlook, and well-read, and a sense of humor. 'Merlin, does this mean that Albus is ready to open up more in a conversation with Scorpius than with his family?' Rose asks herself.
Rose also thinks that her father's face, shockingly watching Scorpius help her unload her suitcase, is worth a lot. And the face of Malfoy Sr., by the way, too.
Reading Scorpius' letters (and scribbling her own), Rose thinks that Malfoy is a great conversationalist.
And Rose also thinks that this is the first summer when she is so looking forward to autumn.
On the first of September, Rose is noticeably nervous, not seeing a familiar blonde top on the platform, and shudders in surprise when a levitating paper airplane gets tangled in her hair. Malfoy, grinning, looks at her from the train window, smug enough that Rose wants to send aBat-Bogey Hex on him. But for now, it's enough for her that Scorpius, with a disarming smile, smoothly waves his wand and her suitcase slowly floats into the train.
'What have you got there, Granger, stones?' Scorpius asks, already throwing the suitcase on the top shelf without any magic and nods knowingly when Rose answers: yes, stones, for the graves of especially talkative Slytherins.
Is Mademoiselle in no mood to talk? Mademoiselle wants to know why Monsieur was spoiling her hair. Does Mademoiselle mean the crow's nest on her head? Mademoiselle is about to punch someone in the nose. Oh, no, Mademoiselle will not use brute force, Mademoiselle is too charming for that.
'No kidding, Granger, but you really don't look too bad. Even with a crow's nest on his head,' Scorpius grins, and oops when Rose, standing on tiptoe, slaps him on the back of the head.
For three summer months and one autumn Rose learns about Malfoy a few dozen random facts.
Scorpius first sat on a broom at the age of four (— Let me guess: the first time he crashed into a tree and got a bump on his forehead? — How do you even know tha?.. — Me too). Scorpius likes scramble with bacon for breakfast. Scorpius plays the piano a little. Scorpius has been to Vienna, Milan, Rome, Geneva, Amsterdam, Paris three times (— Vous parlez français? — Rosa, ne me dis pas que tu connais le français aussi. — Comme tu vois). Scorpius still loves the tales of the Bard Beadle. Scorpius wants to be an auror — or a professor at Hogwarts, he hasn't decided yet.
And Scorpius is indeed a very good conversationalist.
Rose doesn't really understand how it happened, but by Halloween of the fifth year, she and Malfoy become best friends.
She reassures herself that they are forced to do this by external circumstances. Their friends are not up to them right now: Albus starts dating Alice Longbottom, and Katie starts dating Roy Finnigan. They are both appointed prefects, which is why a whole mountain of joint responsibilities falls on them. They are both passionate Quidditch players, and are willing to discuss it for hours.
They can basically talk for hours, for that matter.
About the championship, about studies, about parents, about the past (they both know the "History of Hogwarts" almost by heart), about the future (who wants to be who after school), about travel, about music, about books, about brooms, about magical creatures, about the Ministry — in short, about everything. Sometimes Rose thinks that Scorpius is not just good, but the best conversationalist she has ever had.
To Rose's great displeasure, by the middle of the fifth year, Malfoy's certainly beautiful appearance begins to be realized by them. Which, coupled with his self-confidence, wealth and nobility, gives him an irresistible attraction for the vast majority of girls from the third to the sixth year.
In January, Scorpius begins dating Effie McMillan, a purebred pretty blonde from Hufflepuff. Since March, his girls have been constantly changing: Lucy, Sheila, Bridget, Jenna ... Rose clicks her tongue disapprovingly when some of Malfoy's next girlfriend shows up at his library, disrupting both of them preparing for the OWLS. Because what kind of study is there when simpering giggles, muffled smacking or disgusting creaking of chairs are constantly heard nearby when Malfoy is rocking a new passion on his laps.
'Um, of course I can't tell you, but maybe you won't invite your girls to the library, OK?' says Rose, when they are finally alone together and Scorpius absently looks through the notes. 'I understand everything, but it's all terribly distracting.'
She has to repeat it again before Scorpius hears her, and again before Scorpius understands the meaning of her request, and again before he recognizes her rightness.
Rose thinks that falling in love makes people stupid.
Rose hopes that she will never fall in love herself.
When it's time to take the OWLs, Rose thinks that…
No, Rose doesn't think. Rose is frantically flipping through textbooks at the dinner table, Rose is fidgeting on the bench, restless with anxiety, Rose is constantly breaking into hysterics, which makes it dangerous to talk to her. And only when Scorpius with a resolute 'Granger, you got me!' scoops her up and pulls her away from everyone, Gryffindor students can exhale.
Scorpius stoically endures that Rose is banging her fists on his back, that she is crying through his shirt, that she swears for a long time (here they are, the Weasley genes) and that she bites his fingers painfully when, during one of her tantrums, he tries to cover her mouth with his palm.
The thing is that, while he calms her down, he doesn't worry too much himself. At least that's what he tells Nott, Zabini, and the others, who mockingly wonder since when he's been cuddling in corners with a half-breed Weasley.
And Rose just rolls her eyes expressively when Dominic starts making fantastic guesses about her and Scorpius.
Rose and Dominic finally stop communicating at the beginning of the sixth year, when Rose discovers her cousin after lights out in the prefects' bathroom with Joseph Goldstein. And yes: Rose is really not ready for the fact that instead of repenting, crying and asking Rose not to give her to her parents, Dominic goes on the offensive, spitting out accusations with a beautifully shaped mouth.
Rose just doesn't have a heart. Rose only thinks about textbooks and Quidditch. No one thinks Rose is even a girl, just a walking encyclopedia. Rose is just jealous of her, Dominic, because she doesn't know how to love herself. No wonder no one needs Rose.
Dominic says a lot more, but Rose doesn't listen.
'You know, Lil,' Rose says, sitting in the Gryffindor living room by the fireplace, 'Dom is right. I really probably don't know how to love. Katie is dating Roy, Albus is dating Alice, James is dating Jessica, and I'm not even talking about Scorpius, Louis and Dominic... and I've never fallen in love. Never.'
Lily wants to say something, but changes her mind and just jerks her chin, silently asking: go on.
You know, it's even hard for me to imagine what it's like to love. Well, there, not mom and dad, not relatives, not friends, but... like this. How does this even happen? How do people even understand that they, well... fall in love?
Lily remembers how her heart beat when Phelim Dursley first invited her to Hogsmeade. How it went down somewhere when he first pulled her to him for a kiss. How she bit her lips all night afterwards, desperate for a repeat. How once at Transfiguration she found myself writing "Lily + Phelim" on parchment.
How can she describe it or (even more so) explain it?
Lily doesn't know what to tell Rose.
At the beginning of October, Scorpius comes up with the idea to fix the famous Rescue Room. When Rose hears about this idea for the first time, she just twists her finger at her temple. In the second, Rose says that she is not going to waste her time on obviously doomed ventures. The third is that they will definitely not be able to cope, even if they make every effort, in the end, Scorp, be realistic, if adult magicians could not, then do you really think that we, the students, will do it?
For the twelfth time, Rose gives up.
'To hell with you, Malfoy, I agree. What are we gonna do?'
It's a good thing they've already passed the OWLs, Rose thinks. Now, at least, they have time for additional searches in the library. Hellfire, secret rooms, spells that remove Dark Magic, restore enchantments — searches are conducted in all directions.
'My father fixed the Vanishing Cabinet at the same age,' Scorpius says once, running his fingers through his hair. 'Alone. Either I'm too stupid...'
'Or it's more difficult to restore an entire room than just one cabinet,' Rose interrupts him irritably.
Rose is sick.
Rose wants to fall in love and doesn't care that six months ago she actually claimed the opposite.
But Rose can't.
Rose begins to communicate with Mark Booth quite unexpectedly. Just once, walking down the corridor, she suddenly hears 'beautiful hairstyle' from a barely familiar ravenclaw, a friend of Joe Goldstein. They introduce themselves to each other, and, Merlin, it seems so awkward that Rose, unable to stand it, quickly runs off to Potions, bumping into Scorpius and Annabel passionately kissing in the corridor.
The very next day, Rose safely forgets about the "incident", and shudders when someone's arms suddenly embrace her. And when Mark laughs and asks her where she disappeared yesterday, Rose, in order not to answer, just hugs him back.
There is nothing to talk about with Mark, which Rose understands on the first date. For some reason, it's much harder for her to communicate with Mark than with Scorpius (Albus, James, Stephen, Teddy — it doesn't matter). Rose even thinks that she would much rather spend this time in the library, and does not understand what good everyone finds in these stupid dates.
Mark's first few attempts to kiss her are unsuccessful, but on the fourth Rose gives up. Who knows: maybe a kiss from a Prince Charming (and Mark, to give him his due, is really Charming) will awaken something in her?
Oh yeah. A kiss awakes disgust in her.
It's wet, it's ridiculous, it's awful. It reminds her of how the thestral picks up a treat from the palm of her hand with her lips. This is not at all like what Rose saw in Muggle films or in the corridors of Hogwarts, what her classmates whispered about with shining eyes. Rose feels no butterflies in her stomach, no dizziness, no passionate longing, no weak legs.
Rose feels only relief that the kiss doesn't last long.
When Mark playfully slaps her ass in the middle of the hallway, Rose flushes and turns around to slap him a ringing slap in the face, but does not have time. Scorpius, who had been whispering to Ann at the window before, somehow inexplicably turns up next to her and, pale and gloomy, takes Mark to an empty classroom.
Rose doesn't know what's going on behind closed doors, but in the evening Mark finds himself in the hospital wing, and Scorpius joins her in the library, unusually sullen and focused.
'Granger!'
Silence.
'Granger, what were you thinking when you let that idiot behave like this to you?'
Rose bites her lip.
'Granger, you know me well. I won't leave you alone.'
Rose doesn't look up.
'Granger, for God's sake,' Malfoy snaps, 'can you answer? What did you have with him?'
'Kiss,' Rose wants to answer, but she thinks it will sound stupid.
'I don't know. I just wanted to try... what it is. I mean, a relationship,' Rose says quietly, and that, too, damn it, sounds terribly stupid.
Scorpius does not answer immediately, clearly considering her words.
'Are you saying,' he begins, and his voice, previously confident and loud, suddenly becomes very quiet and hoarse, as if Malfoy's throat is suddenly dry, 'are you saying that you've never been in love before? With no one and never?'
Rose takes a deep breath. For some reason, it is difficult for her to remember Mark's face, but her memory helpfully throws up completely different pictures. Here Scorpius gently removes a black strand from Annabel's face, here he puts his hand on Ann's waist, here he puts his arm around Bridget's shoulders, here he covers Effie's neck with quick gliding kisses, here he presses his mouth to Shell's greedy lips…
'No one and never.'
After Halloween, Rose and Scorpius finally start practicing.
We need a place where everything is hidden,
A place where everything is hidden,
Everything is hidden.
Not immediately, but the Room responds.
They clean it of debris, scrupulously eliminate traces of Hellfire, seal up a crack in the floor in the place where the tiara was lying. They restore the magic circuit by releasing a dozen protective charms from the sticks, which are then woven into a thin white-gold net that spreads along the walls. Then they begin to work more precisely and painstakingly, layer by layer applying spells responsible for different functions of the Room.
It's anything but easy to recreate day by day all the magic that was once put in this place, and after a couple of hours of intensive work Rose usually feels squeezed out, as if after a good Quidditch match. Scorpius, apparently, is no less exhausted — at least since Halloween, he almost always looks pale, thoughtful and tired. And, since Scorpius have suddenly broken off relations with all his former girlfriends, Rose, Albus and Alice have to be with him constantly, insuring against possible revenge of the offended beauties.
But now they are almost always together again.
And Rose falls asleep again in the library on Scorpius' lap, after which her strength is restored surprisingly quickly.
They finish their work by Christmas.
We need a place where no one will find us, a place where no one will find us, a place where no one will find us…
Not without excitement, Rose touches the door handle appeared in the wall.
The place where they end up is surprisingly similar to the Gryffindor living room — the same fireplace, the same cozy armchairs, the same wooden tables. But in addition to red and gold colours, Rose notices a lot of green and silver in the interior.
Scorpius, having just woken up from his apathy, looks around curiously, and Rose wonders why he is surprised.
It's hard for her to believe Scorpius when he says that it's much colder in the Slytherin dungeon, and even the fireplace does not save. That because of the lake there is much more damp, and the light is completely different: greenish, gloomy. "And anyway, it's not it's not nearly as cozy there," Scorpius admits, and Rose laughs triumphantly: for Malfoy to voluntarily admit that something Gryffindor's is better than Slytherin's is... incredible.
Rose laughs.
Rose brakes Scorpius so that he "stops pretending to be a prim aristocrat and at least smiles."
Rose notices the decorated Christmas tree and socks over the fireplace and whistles in James-like surprise.
Rose says that Professor Crystal and Professor Brocklehurst are simply obliged to exempt them from exams this year for this.
'Scorpius, imagine,' Rose throws ideas excitedly at him, 'we can use this room for anything! We can ask the Room to provide us with a large hall and establish a McGonagall Army here instead of a boring Dueling Club! We will teach different students by ourselves! Any, you know, any, from whatever faculty they may be! Anyone who wants to study! Scorpius Malfoy, damn you, did you get tongue-tied?'
Scorpius is silent, and Rose Granger-Weasley gets really furious.
Rose is experiencing excitement again, the same as in the first year, when they were still enemies and each of their joint lessons turned into a struggle for leadership. Rose still remembers their duels, their verbal sparring, their attempts to "accidentally" throw each other off the broom at matches... Rose remembers how one of Malfoy's girls, jealous, once cut up her shoes, and another stuck gum in her hair. Rose remembers countless public kisses of Malfoy with classmates, while she studied, studied, studied, followed the rules, was the perfect prefect, the perfect student, the perfect companion…
And Rose can't do it anymore.
"YOU! AN ARROGANT! ASS! SCORPIUS! MALFOY!" she growls, pushing Malfoy in the chest after each word. And, with the same irritation, raising her head to shake off the unruly strands that had fallen on her face, she meets Scorpius' eyes. And something in his eyes makes her instantly silent.
And a second later, they simultaneously move towards each other. Malfoy covers her lips with his, and a whole hundred sensations descend on Rose. Everything around goes into the background, instantly becoming superfluous, unnecessary, unimportant; only Scorpius's cool lips remain, in some strange way filling her with fire, his hands, firmly but carefully pressing her to him, and an incomprehensible noise in her ears, which, as Rose will understand much later, is her own heartbeat.
Rose pulls away only when the air in her lungs comes to an end.
'What-what-what was that?' she asks almost unconsciously and then blushes deeply, realizing the absurdity of the question. And then she greedily reaches forward again, wrapping her arms around Malfoy's neck, and feels this fire on her lips, responding with warmth in her chest.
'You said you've never fallen in love with anyone,' Scorpius says, watching the flames in the fireplace as Rose's head rests on his shoulder. 'So, I thought that...'
'Don't think!' Rose says imperatively, and Scorpius snorts.
They laugh, and Rose tightens her grip on Malfoy's hand. It will be interesting to see the reaction of friends and numerous relatives when they see them together. And it's even more interesting (Rose involuntarily shivers) to find out how her parents will react to this.
'My father will hear about it,' Scorpius says thoughtfully, as if guessing her thoughts, and now Rose grins, remembering how many times her parents uttered this phrase when talking about Malfoy the elder.
And then Rose remembers something that makes her mood go bad at once.
She's a half-blood.
Scorpius begins to say that this is nonsense. That his father, with age, began to pay much less attention to the purity of blood. That he himself was in love with a Muggle-born in his youth, and, telling his son about it, asked to be above prejudice. That, after all, his parents had probably already guessed everything — he had told them so much about Rose Granger-Weasley.
'You probably won't believe it, but I noticed you even then. At the train station. I've heard a lot about Granger and the Weasleys, and I've figured out who you are. I wanted to meet you on the train, but you turned me down. I decided that you would regret it, and for the first couple of years I tried to prove that I was better than you. And by the third or fourth year, I realized that I was in love.'
Really? And then how will Scorpius explain dozens of his girls?
Scorpius winces. Firstly, he says, there were definitely less than even a dozen, he is not Louis. Secondly, he really did not believe that Rose would ever condescend to him. Thirdly, does Rose even trust him?
'She doesn't', Rose admits honestly. 'If you really did not believe that I would condescend to you, then why all of a sudden?...' Rose blushes and falls silent.
Scorpius, with a mocking snort, picks up her chin with his fingers, and, quickly pulling her to him, kisses her again.
'Because you showed Katie your Patronus at DADA last week. An owl, right?'
Rose nods, and Scorpius pulls out his wand and mutters a familiar spell.
The owl. A silvery royal owl soundlessly flies around the room and dissolves over the fireplace.
'That's when I thought I had a chance.'
They go to the Great Hall together for lunch, and mistletoe catches up with them right at the entrance. Scorpius tells Rose that this is a sign and kisses her, and Dominique's shocked scream is heard somewhere behind.
They fly together a lot, and although Scorpius is a seeker, not a chaser, he conscientiously works out the transfer of the quaffle with Rose.
They do their homework, sitting not on the benches of the library, but on the cozy sofas of the Rescue Room.
Scorpius approaches the Gryffindor table to kiss Rose on the first day after the holidays, and the Great Hall explodes with applause.
Rose winks at the dumbfounded Albus, hugs Katie and reconciles with Dominique.
They are riding in the same compartment, and Louis, James and Albus mockingly exchange glances when Scorpius puts his head on Rose's lap, and she runs her fingers through his blond hair.
Surprisingly, they even come to each other on summer holidays: first Scorpius stays in the Burrow, then at Granger-Weasley, then in Godric's Hollow at the Potters, and then Albus and Rose spend a month at Malfoy Manor.
They get to know each other's parents.
And, although the first handshake of Scorpius and Ron takes place under Hermione's gaze, the polite 'sir', playing magical chess and fascination with the same Quidditch team do their job. And Ron's verdict on Scorpius' departure reads: 'This Malfoy boy... is not so bad. But if he ever does something to my Rosie, he will become a ferret for the rest of his days.'
Hermione, on the other hand, barely holds back tears when she notices how Scorpius looks at Rose, and thinks that her daughter will definitely be happy with this young man.
Ginny doesn't put any emphasis at all on the fact that Scorpius is a Malfoy (and he likes it).
Harry Potter — the great Harry Potter, the Auror, the War Hero, about whom Scorpius has heard so much — turns out to be not arrogant and harsh at all, but open, friendly and caring. And Scorpius understands whose traits Albus inherited.
Astoria, in turn, is delighted with the polite and well-mannered Rose, who is still blushing when Scorpius hugs her or takes her hand. And Draco, after taking a look at her hair (desperately red, like Weasley's, and naughty, like Granger's), grins a little and says: 'Scorpius told me about you.'
'You have an amazing family,' each of them says afterwards.
And after the seventh year, they become a family themselves.
The daughter of War Heroes and a repentant Death Eater.
Half-blood and pureblood.
Two of the most brilliant wizards of their generation.
The youngest teachers of DADA and Potions, Professor Rose Malfoy and Professor Scorpius Malfoy are returning to Hogwarts.