"Vera Verto."

The tabby cat sitting on her desk continued to mewl, swishing its tail lazily and staring back at her with large, insolent eyes.

Rose frowned. She readjusted the grip she had on her wand, concentrating hard as she repeated the spell.

"Vera Verto."

Nothing happened. She clenched her teeth, glancing up furtively to ensure that nobody had noticed her failure. Thankfully Professor Millew was preoccupied at the back of the classroom trying to help Peoria, whose cat had leapt onto her lap and was trying to scratch her eyes out, and the rest of the class were for the most part too busy with their own work to pay attention to her. Looking around at them, Rose could see that the majority of the students had affected at least some element of the required transformation. Flora had almost completely succeeded; on her desk, a small puppy ran around in energetic circles, only the bushiness of its tail and its amber eyes belying its original form. Rose cursed inwardly and tried to refocus on her own animal.

"Vera Verto!"

The cat twitched, flicking its tail back and forth. Rose took a deep breath, blinking away the childish tears that had sprung to her eyes. She was Head Girl; she didn't just breakdown over something as stupid as a spell-block. What kind of example did that set to other students? It wasn't really that difficult, she just had to –

"Miss Weasley?"

Rose jumped; she hadn't noticed the Professor swooping in on her, and now the teacher stood above her desk with a heavy frown.

"Is there a problem?"

"N-no ma'am," Rose said in a valiant attempt at composure. "I'm just… " her jaw locked and she couldn't get the words out.

"Just having trouble with the spell?"

Rose gave a stiff nod, praying the rest of the class were too busy with their own work to pay attention to her humiliation.

"Very well," said Professor Millew, her voice stern but kindly. "Let me see you try."

Rose stared at the cat. She flexed her fingers, breathed deeply; concentrated. You can do this. You can do this.

"Vera Verto."

The cat gave a lazy yawn, stretching its front paws before flopping back in disinterest. Rose could feel Professor Millew's eyes burning into her; she stared at her desk and didn't look up.

"I see." Professor Millew sounded disappointed. "Well, there doesn't appear to be a problem with your technique. Keep practising, and we'll see if you've progressed by the end of the lesson."

But by the time the bell rang Rose had done nothing more than tire herself out. Her fingers ached from the tight grip she had held on her wand, and her head felt like it was being squeezed by an elastic band. She avoided her classmates and the eyes of her teacher as she left, swiping her bag off the desk and exiting the room before anyone could talk to her.

"Rose?"

Obviously she had not gone fast enough. Rose ground to a halt a few steps outside the classroom, wondering if she could make a dash for freedom. Perhaps she could claim nature's call and sprint into the nearest bathroom to take refuge with Moaning Myrtle? But that would only be a temporary fix. Far better to get this particular conversation over with.

She fixed a neutral expression on her face and turned around. "Hello, Charlie."

He was gazing at her as though he expected her to explode in his face at any moment. "How are you?" he asked, stepping aside to let a couple of students past him.

"Fine," she answered stiffly.

There was an awkward pause. "That – that's good," Charlie said at last, looking uncomfortable. "I mean, I heard about… you know… "

She stared at him, and said nothing.

"Listen," he went on, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "I just wanted to say… about what happened last year – "

"Last year was a watershed moment in the Rotfang Conspiracy," came a voice behind Rose's right shoulder. She didn't need to look to know it was Lorcan.

Charlie looked nonplussed. He stared at Lorcan as though he was a blast-ended Skrewt that had suddenly appeared from mid-air. "I'm sorry?"

"The Rotfang Conspiracy," repeated Lorcan. When Charlie continued to gape he went on in a patient voice, as though explaining to a young child. "In May, the Head of the Confederacy of South American Warlocks confirmed publicly for the first time that the correlation between dental disease and early presidential retirements from the Wizengamot had been inadequately studied. This is the first time a Witch or Wizard of such high status has publicly announced his faith in the authenticity of Rotfang. Except for the 57th Wizengamot in 1972 when Albus Dumbledore spoke about – "

"I'm sorry," Charlie cut in, his forehead tightening in annoyance. "But I was having a conversation with Rose. Privately," he added pointedly.

"Rose understands the importance of Rotfang," said Lorcan, either oblivious to the hostility radiating from his housemate or choosing to ignore it.

"I don't think – "

"No," Rose interrupted before Charlie could say anything else. "Lorcan's right. I do understand. Anyway, I'm late for meeting Dom. Excuse me," and she brushed past both boys without a second glance.

It was surprisingly easy, as Rose discovered in the following weeks, to become the sort of person nobody wanted to spend time with. All she had to do was avoid eye contact, and answer any question directed her way with as little interest and enthusiasm as possible; and soon enough the questions stopped coming, and she found herself unbothered by most people beyond her Head Girl duties. There were only two real exceptions to that rule. The first was Dom, who seemed to have decided that the best way of making up for a summer of fighting was to stick by her side whenever she could. The second was Lorcan.

"What do you think about Rwanda?"

She looked up from the book she had been pretending to read, regarding her Ravenclaw friend with a blank expression.

"Er…"

"They have amazing mountain gorilla colonies there," he explained. "Did you know some Hominidae have actually displayed signs of rudimentary magic?"

She shook her head.

"Father thinks it would be a worthy study for my post-Hogwarts research project," he went on.

Rose blinked. She could see the excitement shining in Lorcan's eyes at the prospect of his future, and wondered dully where her own enthusiasm had gone. "That's great," she forced out.

"Do you have any idea what you want to do after school?"

His question was casual, but Rose felt the pressure of an answer weighing on her shoulders like a tonne of bricks. She took a long sip of water to avoid responding. As she drank she tried to picture herself in five years time, where she would be, and what she wanted to do with her life. Her mind drew a blank. The future after Hogwarts was black, just a dark nothingness filled with uncertainty. She blinked as her vision threatened to blur. This was supposed to be the year when she made those decisions, decisions that would shape the rest of her life. Once, it would have seemed exciting, thinking of all the possibilities that lay before her; now, the very thought of it terrified her.

"Rose?"

"I don't know," she answered, resisting the urge to be defensive and opting instead for feigned nonchalance. "My first plan is to finish this book, and then my Charms essay. After that who knows?"

She went back to reading, but for a long time she could feel Lorcan's eyes on her, and his concern was like a blanket wrapped too tight around her shoulders, half-comforting, half-strangling.

Dom's approach to cheering her up was vastly different. "We're going to Hogsmeade," she announced loudly one Sunday morning, bursting in to Rose's bedroom without bothering to knock.

Rose groaned, rolling over and trying to ignore the interruption. She had only dropped off a few hours earlier, just as dawn was beginning to lighten the sky, and her whole body ached with exhaustion.

Dom clapped her hands. "Come on beautiful," she said crisply. "Time to rise and shine!"

"Go away."

"Tut tut," Dom lectured, flinging the curtain's open and letting in a flood of blinding light. Rose threw the pillow over her face with a hiss. "You're being silly, my darling."

Rose let out a string of profanities, her mutterings growing louder when Dom vanished her pillow with a flick of her wand. She sat up and glared as fiercely as possible, but her cousin only laughed.

"Don't look at me like that!" she admonished, wagging a finger at her. "I'm only trying to help you."

"How did you even get in here?"

"Lorcan let me in."

Rose sighed, scraping a hand across her face and trying to think of an excuse. "I feel sick," she offered after a moment's consideration.

Dom bounced onto the end of the bed, looking irritatingly happy for such an early hour. "Well, I know exactly what you need to make you feel better."

Somehow she highly doubted that, particularly if it didn't begin in bed and end in sleep. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes. Shopping therapy," Dom replied, tossing her blonde hair behind one shoulder. "We need to get away from this stuffy old castle for a while, breathe some fresh air! And let me do your hair. I reckon I can see your split ends from here!"

There was no real sense in arguing. Rose dragged herself out of bed and let Dom do as she wanted, knowing it was easier to agree than trying to fight her, and that no matter what she would get no more rest that day. And her hair was getting too long, stretching almost to the small of her back; Dom cut it to her waist, which she had to admit felt better.

Rose soon discovered that her inability to perform complicated magic was not confined to Transfiguration. In Charms, where they were practising non-verbal conjuring spells, she found herself at as much of a stand still as she had been trying to cast Vera Verto. The storm in a teacup she was supposed to be conjuring failed to materialise, even when she finally resorted to speaking the words of enchantment aloud.

"Not to worry," said Professor Spitflick kindly, although he watched her with growing concern as she struggled. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it eventually. You've never failed to before!"

Dom, who took Charms with her, leaned across the table; her own tea cup had a healthy storm cloud over it, and heavy rain, although no thunder and lightning as the spell required.

"What's wrong?" she asked Rose in an undertone as Professor Spitflick bounced off elsewhere. "I don't think I've ever mastered a spell faster than you before."

Rose shrugged. She fingered her wand, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. "I guess… I'm out of practise," she suggested miserably.

Dom continued to frown, clearly sceptical. After a while she wet her lips and began in a tentative voice, "My dad says, sometimes after a big shock – "

"I haven't had a big shock," she snapped, and Dom's eyes widened at the rebuke.

"Rose – "

"I'm fine," she said again, turning away from her cousin and putting an abrupt end to the conversation.

Later, she sought refuge in the silence of the Head common rooms, trying again and again to perform the spells required of her. But for all her effort she made no progress, succeeding only in exhausting herself, until her wand arm ached and even the simplest magic was beyond her. Then she went into her bedroom, curling up with the curtains drawn, and slept.

When she woke it was dark outside. Rose sat up and cast a time spell, hating that she had to consciously think about what she was doing when it should have been second nature. The clock showed eleven thirty. Well past dinner, and well past her rostered Prefect patrols.

She wandered out of her bedroom seeking water, and found Lorcan half-dozing on the couch, a book titled The Rwandan Great Apes open on his lap. He jerked awake when the steps creaked, and stared at her blearily.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"What's the time?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and blinking owlishly at her.

"Half-past eleven."

He got up and stretched, dislodging the book to the floor. "You missed dinner."

"I fell asleep," she offered lamely.

"I organised for Simoly to take your Prefect rounds," he said.

She smiled at him in genuine relief. "Thanks."

They stared at each other for a moment. Rose could see the concern in Lorcan's eyes, but she knew he would never press her further about her issues. Not unless she offered. That was one of the things she liked so much about him.

"I've been… " she swallowed, struggling to find the words. Her gaze drifted to the fire and she stared into the flames until her eyes hurt. "Having trouble with my magic," she said at last.

Out of the corner of her vision she saw him nod.

"I think – I think… maybe I've got –" she dropped her gaze to the floor, feeling the colour rise to her cheeks. "Maybe there's a problem."

"It happens to my mother sometimes," said Lorcan.

Her head snapped up in surprise. "Really?" She studied his reaction, trying to determine whether he was being serious, because with Lorcan you never really knew. It seemed very hard to believe. She had met Luna Scamander multiple times and the witch had never seemed the least bit hampered in her magic.

"Sure," said Lorcan. "She saw some pretty terrible things in the war, you know?" His tone was so matter-of-fact Rose almost didn't comprehend what he was saying. "Every now and then she has flashbacks to it, and when that happens sometimes she struggles to do magic. Dad calls it Luna's Lightness, because he says magic is a burden and not having it for a while can be a good thing."

Rose huffed a laugh, because it was such a Lorcan thing to say and now she knew where he got it from. But at the same time the tender lovingness of such a statement threatened to bring tears to her eyes. "What does she do to get it back?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Waits, mostly," he said. "Dad says stress only makes it worse. Sometimes, if it gets really bad, they go on trips together, away from England. That helps."

"Your parents are lucky to have one another," she commented.

Lorcan grinned, the action lighting up his face and making him seem more grown up than usual. "Yeah."

"It's a pity I can't go somewhere else," she went on, edging closer to the fire and away from the night's chill.

"You could," said Lorcan.

She looked at him askance. "What, leave Hogwarts?" she asked incredulously. "And go where?"

"Anywhere," he said with a crooked smile, as though he found her amazement amusing. "If you really wanted to you could. You're seventeen now, aren't you? You can do whatever you want."

"I – " she ran a hand through her hair, an irrational picture forming in her mind; of running off to Norway, tracking down Durmstrang, finding Scorpius and… and… her imagination came to an abrupt, painful halt. "I want to stay at Hogwarts," she said firmly.

Lorcan smiled again, but his features weren't as bright as before. "I'll help you, if you want," he said mildly. "With your magic."

She was loath to accept the offer, generous as she knew it was. She didn't want to admit she had a problem. But there was no judgment in Lorcan's gaze, and if his mother had the same issues…

"Maybe," she said at last.

He nodded, before gesturing to a small bundle lying on the coffee table. "I brought you some food," he said. "From dinner. I thought you might be hungry."

Warmth flooded her and she grinned broadly. "You shouldn't have," she said, even as she shuffled forward and collapsed onto the couch, her stomach groaning in expectation of its missed meal.

Lorcan unwrapped the napkin with a chuckle. "Pumpkin pastries," he said, handing them to Rose as he spoke. "And an asparagus pie. I know that's your favourite."

She bit into the pastry and only just stifled a moan of pleasure. "Merlin, that's good," she said. Without thinking she leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, then kissed him quickly on the cheek. Lorcan's face flamed and he jumped away from the couch as though she had burned him.

"Well, goodnight," he said, fleeing before she could get another word out.

Rose leaned back in the couch, finding her friend's awkwardness slightly endearing. She curled her toes and basked in the warmth of the fire and the heartiness of the good food. Perhaps things weren't so bad after all….

The year rolled on, so quickly Rose sometimes wondered whether time was playing tricks on her. She spent most of her time in the Head common rooms, practising magic over and over again until her fingers burned and her wand practically hummed with energy. It didn't appear to make much difference; she still struggled to perform to her normal standard in class. The only subject she really excelled in was Potions, where she could prepare ingredients and monitor her concoctions in a sort of self-imposed solitude. Professor Cauldrish never treated her any differently from anyone else, and indeed her difficulties didn't seem to follow her into that particular branch of magic. Having Albus' presence at her side, one of the few times they could spend time alone together, was an added bonus. And so in its own way Potions became a kind of retreat, where once it had been a torture.

They didn't talk about Scorpius. She knew her cousin was itching to, but after one or two failed attempts to draw her out of her shell he respected her wishes, and for that she was grateful. Nonetheless, she could see the anger that tightened Albus' features whenever Scorpius' memory came to mind –talking about Quidditch, and the search for a new Slytherin seeker, or the empty seat beside him that Flora had filled – and she knew exactly how he was feeling.

Her contact with Flora was limited. Although she sat on Albus' other side in Potions, Rose hardly spoke to her, and she gathered this arrangement suited Flora as well. Rose could never quite work out how she felt about the Slytherin girl. On one hand, she would gladly never speak to her again; on the other, she felt a strange sort of solidarity with her. After all, hadn't they both loved Scorpius, in their own way? Maybe of everyone Flora knew best how she was feeling…

As it turned out, her Head Girl duties necessitated a certain amount of contact between them. One night, when Flora had lingered in the Prefect meeting room to organise a change of patrol shift with another student, Rose seized the opportunity to talk to her.

"Um, Flora," she called softly as the blonde started to leave. Flora paused, turning back with an unreadable expression on her face. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" Rose asked.

Flora didn't move, neither a refusal nor acceptance. The other Prefect scurried out and Lorcan, who was tidying up the paperwork on the desk, glanced up in surprise at the pregnant silence.

"I'll see you back in the Common Room," he said to Rose, displaying an uncharacteristic awareness of the situation before following the other student out and shutting the door behind him.

The silence descended upon them like a blanket. Rose shifted her weight, telling herself not to be nervous. She had known Flora for seven years, for Merlin's sake! How difficult could it be to have a simple conversation?

She cleared her throat. "Look, I just wanted to say," she paused, vaguely recognising that she had, in fact, no idea what she wanted to say. "Umm…"

Flora stared at her. Her eyes were hard; not unfriendly, exactly, but certainly not warm either.

"Listen, I… " Rose bit her lip. "I guess you know why I want to talk to you," she forced out at last.

Flora's expression didn't change. "I can guess, yeah," she said flatly.

"I was just wondering… when – um, when you found out that Scorpius would be going to Durmstrang?" she asked, deciding to cut to the chase and not beat around the bush with pointless niceties.

The question hung in the air, heavy and stifling.

For a while Flora chewed her tongue, as though considering her answer. Finally, she shrugged and said, "When he enrolled."

Rose bit her tongue, resisting the urge to snap back as she normally would have done with such a non-committal answer. "And when was that exactly?" she asked.

Flora's look was very direct now. "I believe it was shortly after he was accused of trying to rape you, actually."

Rose choked, unpleasant memories rising to the surface of her mind and her stomach twisting at the poison in the other girl's tone. "You heard about that?" she found herself saying.

Flora smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant expression and didn't reach her eyes, which remained cool. "News travels fast amongst the old families," she said.

"Oh." Rose resisted the urge to rise to the bait. She would be the bigger person. She hadn't done anything wrong, no matter how much Flora stared at her as though she was something she had found crushed under her boot. "Well…"

"Is that all?" Flora demanded icily.

No. "How did he react?" she asked, against her better judgement.

Flora raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

"Scorpius?" she clarified, already wishing she hadn't started this conversation. It was obvious that Flora wasn't interested in being friendly. Her eyes said it all; that she blamed Rose for Scorpius' absence, that she didn't think her worthy of him. "When he found out that he was going to Durmstrang, how did he – how did he seem?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

There was too much sting in that particular question. Rose took a deep breath and switched her gaze to the window.

"He likes it there," Flora went on when Rose didn't reply. "It suits him. People at Durmstrang don't judge him for who his father is, like they did here."

The acidity in her tone was unmistakable now. Rose swallowed the bitterness that rose up in her throat. "So – so you still talk to him?" she asked.

"Why shouldn't I?" demanded Flora, sounding defensive. "We've been friends since we were babies."

"Uh-huh."

"It's not like I just used him as some stupid way to get back at my father."

Rose flinched, her eyes snapping back to the other girl. That one had definitely hurt. "What exactly are you trying to say?" she demanded, not raising her voice but lacing it with warning. She was willing to put up with a lot from this snooty Slytherin bitch, but she had certainly crossed a line. And Scorpius or no Scorpius Rose was tired of putting up with it.

Flora sighed, and her expression relented slightly as though she regretted her previous harsh words. "Nothing," she said wearily. "I just think everyone's better off this way. Especially Scorpius. But if you want I can tell him you say hi – "

"No!" Rose shook her head. She strode toward the door, her hands clenched into trembling fists inside the pockets of her gown. "No, don't do that. I can talk to him myself if I – if I want. Just… forget I said anything. I'll see you later," and she hurried out the door before Flora could see the first of her tears fall.

Weeks passed, and before Rose knew it the winter holidays were upon them. As usual, the plan was for the entire family to gather at the Burrow, just as they had every Christmas since before Rose could remember.

"It'll be good to see everyone again," said Dom casually as they sat about in the Gryffindor common room one night, pouring over their Defence essays. "Although Vic will probably be intolerable. She's spent half of the last six months in Monaco, for Merlin's sake. I don't know if I can listen to how everything in her life is absolutely wonderful and perfect compared to mine."

Rose stared out the window, only half listening. The first flakes of snow were just beginning to fall, swirling in the breeze and glowing faintly in the refracted firelight.

"I can't wait to see James and Fred again," continued Dom. Rose could see her cousin's reflection in the glass pane of the window, her concerned expression belying the lightness of her speech. "I think they'll have some amazing stories to tell about India, don't you?"

Rose titled her head, contemplating. She hadn't seen either James of Fred since the wedding. The memory of their faces on that night made her stomach clench with anxiety.

"Rose?"

"I don't think I'm going to come."

Dom sighed, as though she had been expecting such a response. "I thought you might say that," she said, closing the thick tomb on her lap and tucking her feet beneath herself. "Why not?"

Rose turned back to face the room. "I need to practise my magic," she said without quite meeting Dom's gaze. "I'm far enough behind as it is and, well… " the rest of her words hung unspoken. And I can't face them. Not yet.

"No one blames you, you know," said Dom softly.

"How do you know that?" Rose glanced down at her lap, her mind full of the memory of her father's words at Hagrid's funeral. She hadn't written to her parents since then, though her mother had sent her a letter wishing her well. Her father's handwriting had been conspicuously absent from that note.

Dom sighed again. "None of this is your fault."

"Mmm."

"Seriously – "

Rose turned back to the window. "I just have a lot of catching up to do," she repeated, too tired to try and argue.

There was a long silence. Outside, the wind was rattling against the castle walls. There were only a few Gryffindors besides themselves in the common room; it was nearing midnight and most students had well and truly gone to bed. Rose knew she should get up and go back to her own room, but her legs refused to obey the suggestion.

"Are you still having trouble?" asked Dom in a tentative voice. "With your magic?"

Rose nodded, unwilling to meet her friend's gaze.

"Maybe… maybe going home will help," suggested Dom. "You know, see your mum again, and – and your dad. Or… " she faltered at the lack of response. "Or I mean if you really want to stay here, I guess there's nothing wrong with that either…"

The portrait hole swung open, sparing Rose from having to reply. She blinked in surprise as she recognised the tumble of copper hair coming towards them.

Lily pulled up short as she caught sight of them. A guilty expression flashed across her face before she shrugged and shot a grin at them.

"Oh hi guys," she idled over and stood before the fire, wriggling her fingers out of her mittens. "What's up?"

"Where have you been?" asked Dom, sharing an amused look with Rose.

Lily's grin widened. "Nowhere much."

"Oh really?" Dom gave her younger cousin a penetrating look. "And this 'nowhere much' wouldn't have anything to do with Benny Jacobs, would it?"

"Dom!" Lily hissed, her eyes flicking to the other students in the room to make sure they weren't listening. "How did you know?" she continued in a murmur.

"Oh please," Dom flicked a page in her book with a roll of her eyes. "Do you think I was born yesterday? You two are so obvious."

Lily huffed, but Rose thought she looked rather pleased with herself. "Well, don't tell anyone," she said, flopping into one of the spare armchairs. "We're trying to keep a low profile."

Dom snorted. "You mean, you don't want Albus to know?"

"It's not just Albus," said Lily. "It's the whole family drama thing. It's so much easier when they're not involved. Rose understands, don't you Rose?"

She certainly did. Rose clenched her teeth, remembering the internal arguments she had had with herself for most of last year, debating whether or not to tell her family about Scorpius. If only she hadn't listened to her conscience, and had kept it all a secret… Yet Scorpius had wanted her to tell them. Had he known, even then, that he wouldn't be around for the fall out?

"Rose?"

They were both staring at her. She cleared her throat. "Er… yeah."

"Albus doesn't have a leg to stand on, anyway," continued Lily as though not noticing Rose's vagueness. "You should've seen what he and Flora were getting up to the other day."

"What?" Rose stared at her younger cousin, unable to believe her ears. Her shocked expression was mirrored on Dom's face.

"Mm-hmm," said Lily, sitting up straighter to relate the gossip. "Last Thursday I was taking that shortcut between the seventh floor and the Astronomy Tower, you know the one behind the tapestry of that one-eyed hag and the troll? Yeah, well who should I see but Albus and Flora snogging right there in front of me!" Her nose crinkled and she made a face. "I mean seriously, you're both in Slytherin, why on earth would you need to snog in the corridors? Get a room!"

Rose put a hand to her stomach, which had begun to churn with nausea at Lily's words. She stood up, barely noticing the concern of her companions.

"Where are you going?" asked Dom.

"I – " Albus and Flora? Albus and Flora? It was like the world had been tilted upside down and everything that had used to make sense was now wrong. "It's late," she mumbled at last.

"I forgot you don't sleep here anymore," said Lily casually.

"I'll see you guys later."

"Rose – "

"Night."

As she walked slowly back from the Gryffindor common room to her own bedroom. Rose tried to digest what she had just learnt. A part of her wanted to storm to the Slytherin common rooms, burst into Albus' dormitory and demand an explanation from her cousin. But the sensible part of her brain reminded her that it was really none of her business who Albus dated. Just because she and Flora didn't get along… just because Flora and Scorpius had – had –

She stormed into the Head room so abruptly she startled Lorcan, causing him to knock the carefully aligned planetary system he was constructing to the floor.

"Oh, hi Rose," he said, scrambling to pick the condensed galaxy back up. "How was your – "

"I've decided," she announced dramatically, cutting him off.

He blinked at her for several seconds before asking, "Um… decided what, exactly?"

She strode over to him and helped him to reposition his Jupiter, which had wobbled way off of its orbit. "I've decided that I don't care," she told him in a fierce whisper.

He gave her a somewhat anxious glance. "Care about what?"

"Anything!" she declared triumphantly.

"Anything?"

"Anything!" She paced over to the steps of her room, unable to keep still. "Albus is snogging Flora and I don't care. I don't care! I don't care about anything anymore. Except myself," she added as an afterthought, pulling up short as though to think about this for a moment.

"Are you sure you haven't been exposed to any gnackspurs?" Lorcan inquired, peering at her as though studying her for signs of an infestation. "Or beesle spray? It comes in on Christmas trees at this time of year, you know, and – "

"Nope!" She laughed. "Not a drop! I'm just so tired of caring. Don't you think life's so much easier when you don't care about anything?"

Lorcan scratched his head, a perfectly proportioned Neptune still suspended on the end of his wand. "In some ways," he mused. "I suppose. But if you don't care there's no motivation in life, and that makes things difficult, doesn't it?"

"I still have motivation for myself," she countered, having gone past the point of reasoning to being thoroughly convinced in the rightness of her argument. "But this is what I love about you, Lorcan! You always tell the truth. With you, I know exactly what I'm getting."

"I think that's a compliment," Lorcan said as he carefully drew Neptune back to its rightful place.

"It is!"

"Well good. But… " he trailed off with a thoughtful expression.

"But what?" she pressed.

He fiddled with the ring of his miniature Saturn. "Well, caring is good," he said at last, not quite meeting her gaze. "It's important."

"It's really not," she retorted, annoyed that he hadn't allowed her to continue in her happy oblivion for a while longer. "All if means is that you inevitably become upset when other people do things to hurt you. And when…" her vision blurred and suddenly she wasn't in the Head common room with Lorcan Scamander anymore; she was in a very different room, with a very different boy.

"Scorpius!" she laughed as she swatted his hand away from her hair.

"Sorry," he mumbled, sounding not the least bit sorry at all. His hand drifted from her hair to her neck, and her eyelids fluttered traitorously at the touch. "It's just so… red."

"I'm aware of that."

"When it catches the sun you look like you're on fire," he said, an intensity to his voice that made her easy smile slip.

She curled up closer to him on the sofa, moving out of the direct rays of sun slanting in through the high window. "We're supposed to be studying," she said, trailing a finger across his jaw.

He smirked. "Fuck studying."

"We've got a test."

"Fuck the test."

She giggled, before clapping a hand over her mouth. His hands had been slowly creeping towards her waist, and she yelped when he suddenly tugged her closer to him, his arm wrapping around her hips to keep her from wriggling away.

"Scorpius!"

"Who cares about the test?" he murmured, his lips kissing her hairline down to her ear.

She gaped at him in mock horror. "Who cares about the test?" she repeated incredulously. "Who cares about the test? Are we talking about the same thing here? You know, the test that's going to make up one quarter of our final grade?"

Scorpius cocked his head to the side. "You're right," he said, leaning away from her and slapping the back of his hand to his forehead in dramatic fashion. "What am I saying? The test," he grabbed her again and pulled her back for another kiss, one hand reaching out to curl in her hair. "Merlin you're so distracting…"

She concurred with a moan, clinging to the front of his shirt. Why was he so addictive? And what was so important about that stupid test anyway?

"Scorpius!" she pulled back and tried to disentangle her hand from his. "The test!"

"Fuck the test."

"Merlin – you – are – impossible!"

He drew back marginally, an impish look on his face. "You know when you get mad your cheeks flash all red. Right here," he pinched her right cheek and she scowled. "You're just so red Rose." He laughed as she tackled him back into the sofa, cursing spectacularly.

"At least I've got colour you albino – "

"Hey!" he rolled over so that he was pinning her instead, trying to get a good grip on her hands but failing when she tickled his ribs. "That's – that's too far!" He buckled a little as she tickled him in earnest. "No – no s-stop!"

She grinned wickedly, taking the advantage while she had it. Sure enough, within a few moments Scorpius had recovered enough to tug her hands away from his midriff, shifting them above her head and giving her a reproachful look.

"That was below the belt," he scolded.

"All's fair in love and war."

"Is it now?" Without warning, he leaned in and kissed her, and Rose had to stop herself from melting into a puddle of warmth as pleasure trickled down her spine. When he pulled back his eyes were a little glazed, but he smirked as he said, "I might just have to remember that."

They were close enough that she could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Once more he bent to claim her lips, but this time his kiss was whisper soft, the gentlest of touches that nonetheless made her toes curl and her breath catch.

"Now," he grinned, lifting himself off of her and picking up the textbook that lay discarded at their feet. "About that test, Rose…"

"Rose? Rose?"

She blinked, vaguely aware that there were tears streaming down her face, sticking her eyelashes together and leaving the tang of salt on her lips. Through her blurred vision she thought she could see Lorcan standing in front of her, his face creased with concern.

"Are you alright? Rose?"

Who was she kidding? Of course she cared. She cared more than anything and that was why it hurt, why it felt like her insides were burning and screaming and she just couldn't breathe without him anymore.

Lorcan muttered something under his breath, and all of a sudden Rose found herself swinging sideways as he took her legs out from under her and picked her up, carrying her in his arms up the stairs to her room. He kicked the door open and laid her down on her bed, and still she couldn't speak, couldn't even lift her eyes to acknowledge him.

"Try and get some sleep Rose," he whispered, bending over her to press a kiss to her forehead. She shivered, tucking her head into her arms and giving in to the first wracking sob that bubbled up within her.

"I – I'm sorry," she tried to say, knowing how pathetic she was acting and wishing she had the strength to pretend she was alright.

"Shh," Lorcan smoothed her hair away from her face, then drew a blanket over her with such gentle tenderness it only made her cry harder. "It'll be okay."

He shut the door behind him with a click, but his words remained, echoing in her head like a half-remembered lullaby. It'll be okay… It'll be okay… It'll be okay…

She wished she could believe him.