Exams crept up on them slowly but surely. Rose threw herself into her studies with all the energy she could muster, determined not to let the drama in her life affect her achievement in class. If there was to be only one thing she could take from sixth year, she wanted it to be that she came top of her class in every subject, or at least got as close as humanly possible. She was her mother's daughter, after all.

She certainly wasn't alone in her sudden dedication to studying either. Most nights found the Gryffindor common room filled with Weasleys and Potters all desperately cramming for their upcoming exams. James and Fred, who had their N.E.W.T.s approaching, were forced to abandon their happy-go-lucky existence and succumb to the monotony of revision for close to the first time in their schooling careers. It was a rare sight indeed, to see her two older cousins bunched up in front of the fire each night, comparing notes, offering each other sporadic quizzes, and practising the same complicated wand motions over and over. Rose watched them with a tinge of sadness, knowing full well that after graduation in less than a month she would probably never get to see them like this again. She had grown so accustomed to their presence at Hogwarts that she didn't think school would be quite the same without them.

"You guys are lame," announced Hugo, perching himself on the arm of Rose's chair and pointing at James and Fred. Of all the family, her little brother was probably the least concerned about his exams. Hugo had never been much of a bookworm, seemingly content to get by on the back of his not inconsiderable natural talent rather than put in the extra effort to achieve outstanding results.

"Lame?" said James, looking slightly wild with his hair sticking up in all directions and dark circles under his eyes. "Lame, he says! Just wait until you have your N.E.W.T.s, little cous…we'll see who's the lame one then."

"Scurromungulus," muttered Fred under his breath. Three small grey toadstools sprouted out of the carpet where he had pointed his wand, then promptly shrivelled and disappeared back into the ether. "They're not red," he whined to James, who only shook his head helplessly back at him. "Why are they not red?"

"Never mind that," said their fellow seventh year Jack Thomas, his head emerging from behind a tombstone-sized textbook. "What do you think the chances are that we'll be tested on the Draught of Peace in our Potions exam? I hate that potion."

"Probably a high chance then," said James miserably. He gave his page of notes a disgusted look and threw them in Fred's direction. "We should have done what your dad and his brother did and just high tailed it out of here on broomsticks halfway through the year. Now they had the right idea."

Fred nodded sagely. "Maybe when you catch the snitch against Ravenclaw we should just keep on flying and make a run for it?"

"I could come too!" piped up Hugo, and they all burst out laughing at him. He glowered at their response and crossed his arms. "Fine. Whatever."

At that moment, the portrait hole opened and Lily walked in, looking slightly flushed and wearing a bright smile. She strolled over to where they were all sitting and sat on the other arm of Rose's chair, ignoring her older brother's suspicious stare.

"Hi Rose, hi Hugo," she said cheerfully, brushing some of her copper coloured hair out of her eyes. "How's it going?"

"Good," said Rose, giving her little cousin a once over. If she didn't know any better she'd have sworn –

"Where have you been?" demanded James.

Lily rolled her eyes at his overly protective tone. "None of your business."

"I'm your big brother," said James. "Of course it's my business."

"It's really not," said Lily. She raised her eyebrows at Hugo. "Exploding Snap?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"You've been with a boy," accused James, narrowing his eyes.

"And what gives you that impression?" drawled Lily, not even sparing her brother a glance. She sat down on the floor at Rose's feet and fished a pack of playing cards out of her pocket. Rose had to admire her composure.

"Your cheeks are pink," said James at last. "You've been outside."

"Well gosh, genius, maybe I just wanted to go for a walk."

"Why would you want to do that?" asked James distrustfully, as though she'd announced a desire to go dancing with a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

"Maybe because some of us happen to like the outdoors, strange as that may seem to you. We can't all lock ourselves inside growing toadstools all day." Fred made a sound of offence at her words, and snatched his wand away from the carpet where he had been trying unsuccessfully to conjure red toadstools for the last five minutes.

"Where did you walk to?" James continued persistently, and Rose resisted the urge to throw her book at him. She knew he was just being a protective older brother, but his reaction was really starting to bug her. Lily was fourteen and if she wanted to go out for a walk – with or without a boy – it wasn't really up to James to disapprove. He was reminding her of Albus, too, which wasn't helping.

Lily laughed and tossed her head. "What is this, the Inquisition?"

"The what?"

"Tut tut, weren't you paying attention in Muggle Studies?"

"I never took Muggle Studies," said James defensively. "Besides, that's not the point. I'm just curious, that's all."

"Well, if you must know," sighed Lily, beginning to deal the cards. "I went to visit Hagrid."

"Oh," a look of relief crossed James' face. "Well that's – "

"With Ben Jacobs."

"Jacobs?" spat James, looking as though he'd swallowed a fly. "That fifth year?"

Lily quirked her eyebrows with a mischievous smile. "Sure, why not?"

"How is Hagrid?" cut in Rose, before James could say anything else. She had been meaning to visit the Gamekeeper for several weeks now. She'd hardly seen him since Christmas.

"Not very well, if you ask me," said Lily solemnly. "He's got a bad cough. And he's lost weight. I don't – " she broke off, and she and Rose shared a meaningful look.

"Never mind that," said James. "What were you doing with that prat Jacobs?"

Lily shot him a disdainful glance. "Nothing that's any of your business. And he's not a prat."

"He's too old for you!"

"He's only one year above me!"

"And you're only a fourth year!" shouted James. "You're too young to be going on walks with boys. If Mum and Dad knew they'd – "

"Oh you want to play the 'I'll tell Mum and Dad game' do you?" snapped Lily, her cheeks growing an angry red now. "Well there's a few things I could tell them about you that I don't think they'd be too impressed to know about either! How about Jasmine Whittaker and a broom cupboard?"

"That's different!"

"How come?"

"Cause I'm older than you and…and I'm a boy," James smirked as though he thought he had made a winning point.

Fred coughed something under his breath that sounded like "bad move."

Lily had got to her feet, her eyes flashing and her tone raised to James' level. "That is so predictably sexist of you!"

"No it's not! I'm just looking out for you!"

"Well I don't need you to!" she shouted back, looking so much like her mother that Rose was amazed James hadn't admitted defeat already. "You're not my bodyguard and I don't need protecting from Ben. He's a really nice guy!"

"He's a really endangered species," muttered James under his breath, just loud enough for his sister to hear.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that I think me and Jacobs need to have a little chat about things before I leave here, that's all."

Lily stamped her foot, her face blazing. "Don't you dare James! You leave Ben alone! I swear on Dumbledore that if you ruin this for me I'll never forgive you!"

James looked around at the rest of his family for support. "You don't agree with this, do you?" he demanded of Fred.

"Ugh, keep me out of this mate. I've already got a sister."

"What about you?" said James, pointing at Hugo, who made a face. "Or you, Rose? You know, you should be more like Rose, Lils – she never does anything stupid like this!"

Lily spun around to look at Rose, and for a half a second it seemed as though she was going to speak. Rose stared back, a horrible feeling spreading within her that her younger cousin knew the truth…it was the way Lily was looking at her, as though desperate to say something but biting her tongue at the last second. Her eyes were shining, and she stared at Rose for far too long, before turning away.

"Whatever," she said with a sniff. "Come on Hugo, let's go and play in your room. And you stay away from Ben, you hear me James!"

Together the two of them marched up into the boys' dormitories, and Rose let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Surely, she was just imagining things. Lily couldn't know, there was no way…she swallowed guiltily, and returned her eyes to her book.

Thankfully, none of her family appeared to have noticed the strange exchange they had shared. James was too busy complaining about his little sister and planning all the ways he could intimidate Jacobs into staying away from her. He and Fred put their heads together, discussing which of a predawn dungbomb attack or a Peeves ambush in the corridor would be more effective.

"You guys," said Dom sternly. "Don't do anything to him. You heard what Lily said – you know she'd never forgive you. And Jacobs is a nice guy."

"I've never liked him," said James at once. "Always had that look about him, know what I mean?" Fred nodded in agreement.

"You mean the look that he might one day be attracted to your little sister?" asked Dom sarcastically.

"Exactly."

"Oh I give up, you two are a lost cause!" Dom threw her hands in the air, before her attention was caught by something at the window. "Hey…isn't that Victoire's owl?"

Rose looked over to the window, where there was indeed a snowy white owl tapping on the glass. "Er…"

"It is! Ooh, a letter. I wonder if it's about the wedding?"

Dom hurried over to the window and opened it. Rose watched as she untied the scroll attached to the bird's leg and spread it flat, her eyes scanning quickly down the page.

"They've set a date," she announced excitedly after a moment. "July 15th."

"That's so soon," muttered Rose distractedly. It was hard to believe the much talked about wedding was finally going to be happening for real.

"Tell me about it," groaned Dominique. "And look, they've even sent us our invitations," she gave a squeal and hurried back to the couches, the letter clutched against her chest. "There's one for you, Fred, and for you, James, and…hey there's even one for you Jack."

"Family friends," he said with a shrug, taking it off Dom with a grin. "Thanks."

"There's two for Lily and Hugo, two for Lorcan and Lysander, and…" Dom frowned as she looked down at the names. "Oh wow, I forgot Malfoy was invited."

James' head jerked up. "Huh?"

"To the wedding. See, Vic's sent an invitation for Albus, and one for Malfoy."

"Why would Malfoy be invited?" asked Fred darkly.

"Cause he's Teddy's cousin, silly," said Dom. "It would be rude not to invite him."

"Do you think his parents will come?"

"I dunno. Probably."

"That'd be way too weird," said James, scratching his chin with the end of his quill. "Can you imagine our parents and Malfoy's parents in the same room? The forced conversation, the unmentionable topics…" he trailed off, a far-away look in his eyes.

"I don't think Dad would stay in the same room as Draco Malfoy," said Fred. "He still can barely bring himself to say his name."

His words seemed to cut deep into Rose's insides. She cleared her throat and tried to focus back on her book, but she couldn't block out what he was saying.

"… And I'm amazed Uncle Bill's okay with it. I mean, it's cause of Malfoy that he's, you know…"

"That's not fair," Rose found herself saying. "He was forced to do that by Voldemort. It wasn't his fault."

Fred stared at her. "He still opened the portal that let the Death Eaters in, though."

"Yeah," agreed James. "There's no way I'd ever side with Death Eaters, no matter what I was threatened with. I'd rather die."

"It's not always that easy," said Rose quietly, staring into the flames of the common room fire. "There's so much pressure. The expectation…you have no idea what it's like…." she realised she was drawing attention to herself and coughed. "Besides, it was so long ago. Surely that should all be forgiven now."

"You've changed your tune," remarked James, sounding distinctly unimpressed. "Since when do you defend the Malfoys?"

"I still don't think he should come," said Fred adamantly. "Doesn't matter how long ago it was, some things are too terrible to be forgiven. My dad's twin doesn't get a second chance, why should Malfoy?"

They were silent for a while before Dom crinkled her nose. "Well, the invitations are here anyway, and it's Teddy and Victoire's decision so I think we should try and support it." She looked at Rose imploringly. "Would you be able to give Al and Malfoy theirs?"

"Can't you?" she asked desperately. The thought of even confronting either of them made her feel sick, let alone with something as sensitive as a wedding invitation. Let alone with Fred's words echoing in her head.

"You're heaps closer with them than me," Dom brushed her off. "And you guys all have Potions together, just give it to them then. Here's yours, by the way."

She handed Rose her invitation. It was a prettily designed card that showed far more of Victoire's influence than Teddy's. Butterflies flitted across the paper and the elegant script unfurled then disappeared on endless repeat. The bottom half of the invitation was dedicated to a smiling, waving picture of Teddy and Victoire. Rose had to admit they made a very cute couple. But she couldn't muster any excitement for the upcoming event, especially not after listening to her cousins' talk about the Malfoys.

"The bridesmaid gowns are going to be lavender," continued Dom, still reading the letter. "I don't know about that. What do you think Rose? I don't think lavender suits me at all."

The boys groaned at the change in topic and returned to their study, and Rose was left to assuage her cousin's insecurities by herself, all the while secretly trying to squash her own.

She pushed the invitations tentatively onto Albus' desk the next Monday afternoon as soon as they had taken their seats for double Potions. She hadn't said more than a few words to him since their conversation on the Quidditch pitch a fortnight ago, and though he remained frosty and hostile outwardly, for some reason she sensed that he had forgiven her. There wasn't anything specific that he had done to make her feel that way; it was more just a feeling she got that his anger had decreased to something more akin to mild resentment. She couldn't say the same for his attitude toward Scorpius however. Despite the fact that they still sat next to each other in class, Rose didn't think she had ever seen more hostility radiating between two people as she did between them. She longed to get Scorpius alone and talk to him about it, but at the same time she didn't want to make things worse between him and Albus; she had no doubt her cousin was keeping an eye on the Marauders' Map to make sure they weren't sneaking off together anymore.

"What's this?" he asked suspiciously when she nudged the two cards in his direction, before taking note of the writing on the front. "Oh, the wedding. I forgot all about it. Thanks."

"It's in July," she said, rather superfluously since the dates were on the invitations. "There's – there's one for Scorpius as well, if you could – "

Without a word and keeping his eyes fixed on the blackboard, Al slid one of the invitations over to his left. Scorpius picked up the card, glanced at it impassively, then slipped it into his bag, also without saying anything.

Rose sighed, but didn't attempt to intervene. What could she say? She was fairly certain she wasn't the person to mend things between them, and she had done more than enough damage already.

By the end of class her head was so full of potion fumes and teenage angst that she desperately needed fresh air and solitude to clear her head. She was out the door as soon as the bell rang, ignoring both Albus and Scorpius, and had raced up the stairs to the Entrance Hall before half the class were even out of their seats. Normally, she would have gone to the library and immersed herself in a good book to relieve her worries, but it was a Monday and the library still felt uncomfortable on those afternoons. Instead she opted for a quick, brisk stroll around the Hogwarts grounds – it was a beautiful day out and the good air was exactly what she needed. She spotted Hagrid dragging large bundles of kindling between his hut and the Forbidden Forest, and waved to him. He had indeed lost weight. Rose vowed to go and talk to him when he wasn't so busy working.

By the time the last class of the day was finished, Rose had done four peaceful, refreshing rounds of the Lake. She had worked up a light sheen of sweat, her cheeks were red, and her rather frizzy hair was pulled back from her face into a chaotic bun on the top of her head. And she felt better than she had in weeks.

With a sigh, she plonked down beneath the shade of a tree (specifically not the oak tree) and took several deep, calming breaths. Outside in the sunshine, with the Giant Squid swimming laps in front of her and a lazy hum in the air, it was hard to dwell too much on the negative aspects of the last few months. If only everyone could sit beside the lake together on a summer's day, she thought dreamily. Then no one would argue and everything would be fine…

Rose lay back against the grass and closed her eyes, comforted by the thought that if she could just get her family to have a picnic at Hogwarts then she would end up with Scorpius after all. She began to hum a tune, feeling the tension and stresses of the year begin to seep out of her. Merlin had she needed this.

"Hey stranger."

She smiled at the familiar voice, before sitting up slowly. Of all the people that could have come and found her, Lorcan had to be the only one she actually felt like tolerating right now.

"Hi."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Course not," she patted the grass beside her. "Come, sit."

He sat and stretched his long legs out with a sound of relief. He was as tall and gangly as ever, his legs and arms still seeming too long for his body. His dark blonde hair had grown out somewhat now, to almost fall into his eyes, and his face had lost most of its youthful chubbiness to give him a more mature, grown up look. Rose gave him a grin as he settled himself beside her.

"Where have you come from?" She asked, lying down again and feeling the sun warm the lower half of her body where the shade from the tree's branches ended. It was an incredibly comfortable feeling.

"Divination."

"Ah, always my favourite subject," she joked. In truth she had found Divination to be a mildly frustrating, at times somewhat amusing and often downright boring subject. It was one of the few classes she hadn't regretted having to drop at the end of third year.

"Yeah," said Lorcan, lying back as well and stretching his arms above his head. "Firenze told me I have an unexpected challenge awaiting me. He says next year may define me but that 'impressions can be deceiving.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Lorcan shrugged. "He also said 'absence can create many things."

"What absence?"

"Dunno."

"You didn't ask?"

He gave her a patronizing look. "You can't just ask a Centaur, Rose. He either tells you or he doesn't."

"Oh. I guess that's why I was never any good at Divination."

He cracked a smile, the motion transforming his features and making him seem a lot younger. "Mum says Divination's something that you've either got or you haven't. It's not something you can learn. Unless your brain gets infested with wriggling gnackspurs, that is – they can cause temporary visions and hallucinations that many people mistake for the Inner Eye. Before they kill you."

Rose raised her eyebrows at him. "Uh…so how is your mother?"

"Great, actually. Have you read the latest edition of The Quibbler?"

"Umm, no." The Quibbler was not something that was in common circulation around the Gryffindor common room, and she had never subscribed herself. Not that she would ever admit that to Lorcan. "Why?"

"Mum had a feature article in it on South African Zigamees."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she went there for three months on a study tour earlier this year, and made some really fascinating discoveries regarding their nocturnal migration patterns and matriarchal family structure…"

It was nice to sit and listen to Lorcan talk animatedly about his mother's discoveries concerning South African Ziggamees. Rose was conscious of the fact that he hadn't asked her to explain about Charlie or Hogsmeade or Scorpius, even though she knew he was probably burning with curiosity about it all. His tactfulness was a welcome relief, especially given how judgmental most of her fellow students had been. Rose wanted to show her appreciation to him for not asking, but she also knew she would embarrass him if she brought it up. She couldn't help but think that Lorcan knew she was looking for a distraction, and had deliberately started a discussion about The Quibbler to provide it for her.

"…And the alpha female lays over one thousand eggs a week during breeding season," continued Lorcan conversationally. "But the survival rate is less than a quarter. Firstly, because the alpha female examines each offspring as they're born, and eats all those that she considers undesirable, which is about half…"

Rose twisted her head to look at him. He had his eyes closed, and didn't seem to think there was anything particularly unusual about what he had just said.

"…and the other quarter die of natural causes, like the cold or competition for food or being attacked by Luggerknockers."

"Luggerknockers?"

"The Luggerknockers and the Ziggamees are each other's mortal enemy," explained Lorcan. "They occupy different territory normally, but Mum reckons she identified three serious wars that were ongoing between them while she was over in South Africa."

Rose wasn't sure whether to laugh or simply nod. "Who's winning?" she asked at last.

"Ah, it's hard to say…"

They lay in companionable silence for a while, before Lorcan turned on his side to face her. "What lesson did you have?"

She blinked, her thoughts returning belatedly to the emotionally troubled Potions classroom that she had escaped from an hour or so earlier. "Potions."

"Ah, fun."

This was it, she thought. She could tell from his tone that the questions were coming. He would ask her about Albus, then Scorpius, and then she would be forced to go through the whole sorry saga all over again. She waited reluctantly for him to begin his questions, but nothing was forthcoming.

"You know, I've always wondered what Professor Cauldrish would make of the Rotfang Conspiracy," mused Lorcan idly.

She turned such a dazzling smile on him at that moment that he looked genuinely surprised.

"What?"

"Nothing. What's the Rotfang Conspiracy again? I've forgotten."

They lazed away another half hour, before Rose decided that she had better go back and get at least some studying done before dinner. Reluctantly, she pulled herself up, and she and Lorcan meandered slowly back up to the castle. The pleasant lightness of the afternoon grew dimmer and dimmer as she got closer to the Entrance Hall, as though the dark shadow that Hogwarts cast was somehow swallowing her soul. She shook her head, annoyed at her own thoughts, but the feeling was inescapable.

"I have to go down to the kitchens," said Lorcan once they were inside. He had stopped talking halfway up the grassy slope and now seemed rather pensive.

She looked at him curiously. "What for? Dinner's only an hour or so away."

"Yeah…" he fidgeted, looking uncomfortable. "But I promised Lysander I'd pick him up something when I came back."

"You shouldn't break the rules for him you know," she said sternly. "And he shouldn't be asking you to break them. Can't he come and get them himself if he wants them that badly?"

Lorcan shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"Whatever," she said, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation on the twins' troubled relationship. A sudden thought struck her. "Are you going to the Quidditch this weekend?"

He hesitated. "Nah…who would I go with?"

"Well I'll probably be going," she said. There'd be no way her brother or cousins would forgive her if she missed the game in which they won the Cup. "And Louis will be there."

He looked at her blankly.

"Louis Weasley," she said. "My cousin. He's in Ravenclaw, two years below you."

His expression cleared. "Oh, yeah I know him. I've never spoken to him."

"You've never spoken to him?" she gaped at him incredulously. "But you've been in the same dormitories for four years. Surely you must have said hello a few times at least."

"Mmm…nope," he shook his head. "Not a single word."

"Why not?"

Lorcan gave her one of those painfully honest stares that made her squirm. "He's too cool for me."

"What? No he's not."

"Yes he is," said Lorcan, his voice holding no judgment, almost as if he were expressing an opinion on the weather. "Far too cool."

"That's ridiculous."

"I'd better go," said Lorcan, his eyes drifting to the huge magical clock hanging high above their heads. "Before it gets too busy in the kitchens for the House Elves to make extra food."

"Right," she said, still too flustered about Louis to really pay attention.

"Nice to see you again Rose." Lorcan leant forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek, a friendly, platonic kiss, before his attention was caught by something behind her. "Hi, Scorpius." He waved briefly over her shoulder, then turned and ambled away.

His last words took a moment to register in her brain. When they did, Rose spun around, almost slipping on the smooth marble floor in her haste. Sure enough, Scorpius was standing at the top of the stairs that led down to the Slytherin common rooms, dressed in his quidditch robes. His expression was passive and remote, and she couldn't help but squirm in response. She wanted to run to him, to shake him and tell him he was stupid, then snog him senseless and afterwards curl up in his arms for hours on end. She wanted to talk to him about Albus, and about them…if there ever had been a 'them' to start with, that was. Instead she just stood there, staring at him.

Finally, she forced herself to speak. "Scorpius, I – "

But he shook his head, silencing her instantly. Then, without saying anything, he turned and walked back down the stairs.