She didn't stay there for very long. Even had she wanted to, the game was about to begin, and her presence would almost certainly be missed. And the very last thing she needed right then was anymore whisperings and rumours surrounding her.
It was surprisingly easy to numb the pain. Rose wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not, but it was certainly the truth. She walked back out into the sunlight in a daze, moving mechanically over to Professor McGonagall and finding Lorcan standing there beside her. She could sense her housemate's quizzical gaze, but stoically refused to meet it. Instead, she stared fixedly at a single puff of cloud making its leisurely way across the sky.
Unfortunately, she couldn't look at nothing forever. There were school anthems to play, oaths of allegiance to be read out, hands to be shaken and ribbons to be cut. Rose stood and smiled through it all. Her jaw began to ache and she wondered if she looked as absurd as she felt. Nobody around her appeared particularly concerned, though, so perhaps her acting skills were better than she gave herself credit for.
She kept the Durmstrang students in her line of sight, but refused to look directly at them. Eventually, they became a blur of maroon in the corner of her eye, each one indistinguishable from the other. The Beauxbatons players she focused on a little more directly, particularly Jean, who kept shooting her inquiring looks as though trying to communicate a question to her with his eyes. Whatever it was, she ignored that too.
At last, the formalities were over, and it was time for everyone save the players and referee to leave the pitch. Rose walked off steadily, making a beeline for the stairs that would take her up to the Gryffindor stands. She felt rather than saw Lorcan fall into step beside her.
They didn't speak as they climbed the stairs. There wasn't much point; the din of the crowd would have drowned it out and besides, Rose couldn't think of anything she wanted to say. She walked numbly through the rows of eager students until she reached Dom, who had left a spare seat for them.
"You made it!" her cousin grinned at her. Dom was wearing a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, and had gone to the trouble of stitching the Beauxbatons coat of arms onto her coat. Rose stared at it curiously, and Dom arched an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing." Rose answered, deciding not to point out the rather obvious show of allegiance. Dom wasn't the only person who had sided with the French team. More than half the stand was noticeably blue; clearly, the home crowd had a favourite.
"Is everything alright?" her cousin asked.
Rose caught the look between Dom and Lorcan, a concerned meeting of gazes over the top of her head that she obviously wasn't supposed to pick up on. She dropped into her seat and folded her arms before replying shortly, "Fine. Everything's fine."
Dom frowned, but there was too much commotion for an interrogation to take place. The players' names were announced and the two captains shook hands, before they all rose into the air and took their places in their respective formations. The match was about to begin.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Witches and Wizards," Malachy McLaggen's voice rang out across the stands, magnified so that it seemed as though he were yelling right into Rose's ear. "Welcome to the most hotly anticipated Quidditch game this side of the World Cup, the opening qualifier of the Tri-Wizard International Quidditch Tournament! Are we all ready for a great match?"
The crowd roared in appreciation. Rose couldn't help her eyes drifting to Scorpius. He was hovering well above the rest of the players, his eyes already scanning the pitch, tight with concentration. Rose felt a pang in her chest at the painful familiarity of it; if she squinted hard enough, she could almost pretend he was playing for Hogwarts. Then, after the match, she could go and find him, throw her arms around his shoulders and kiss him triumphantly; and he would smile and pick her up in his arms and spin her around with that look in his eyes that he used to give her from time to time…
The whistle blew shrilly, and Rose jerked a little in her seat. She flushed as she realised she had been staring at nothing; Scorpius had drifted to the other end of the pitch, and the other players had begun to move as the match began. McLaggen's voice rang out once more.
"And we're off! Pirrot of Beauxbatons to start with possession. What a spectacle we're about to witness today, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen. Not just a trophy, but school pride and international bragging rights on the line here folks! Both teams will be desperate to make a good start to this tournament, so sit back, have a butterbeer, but whatever you do don't go anywhere, Hogwarts, because we're about to witness one of the greatest Quidditch matches of all ti – hang on a minute?"
A flash of red and blonde swam across Rose's vision. She felt the collective gasp of the students around her; saw the streak of maroon come to an abrupt halt at the other end of the pitch; and a moment later, heard McLaggen's shocked voice echoing throughout the now silent stadium.
"He's – he's caught it."
Scorpius floated near the left-hand goalpost, the struggling golden Snitch grasped in one white-knuckled fist, the Beauxbatons Seeker trailing almost a yard away. The rest of the players, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons alike, still hung half-poised to commence their starting attack, faces uniformly slack with disbelief. The Beauxbatons Captain hadn't even had a chance to pass the Quaffle off.
McLaggen made a quick recovery. "He's caught the Snitch! Ladies and gentlemen, Scorpius Malfoy of Durmstrang Institute has caught the Snitch! Durmstrang win by 150 points!"
A chorus of boos followed this announcement. They came from everywhere, echoing around the stadium. Rose wasn't sure if it was because the game was over so quickly, or because it was Scorpius who had ended it. Either way, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He flew down to where the match referee was, and presented the dumbstruck official with the Snitch as though it was nothing more exciting than winning a non-competitive game of three-a-side. The referee took a minute to respond. But when the Beauxbatons' Captain, Quaffle stuffed under one arm, flew up and began to vigorously protest the result, he quickly raised his whistle and acknowledged the victory.
"Well, that was a bit of an anti-climax," remarked Dom in the silence that followed. She unwrapped the blue scarf from her neck and dropped it in her lap with a sigh. "Malfoy, huh? What a lucky prick."
Nobody had quite yet gathered the energy to move, besides the teachers who had scrambled down onto the pitch to deal with the now thoroughly confused players and coaches. People were still waiting to see what the outcome would be of the Beauxbatons' protests – their own Headmistress had charged out on the grounds, arguing fervently with another match referee, and their team remained hovering in mid-air, as if expecting the game to recommence at any moment. But the Durmstrang students were already celebrating; they had crowded round Scorpius, ruffling his hair and slapping his back, their faces split into jovial grins. Scorpius' smile was barely visible; the merest twitch of his lips and a nod at his fellow compatriots. His eyes roved the crowd, and Rose held her breath, unable to tear her eyes away, waiting for the moment when they would land on her…
Lorcan's hand waved in front of her face. Rose blinked and stared at it as though it had sprouted claws. "We should go down to the pitch," he explained patiently to her blank stare. "In case Professor McGonagall needs any help."
She flushed and nodded. "Right." She stood up, ignoring Lorcan's proferred assistance, and turned her back on the pitch. "Sorry. Let's go."
"What time's the next game?" asked Dom, checking her reflection in the small compact mirror from her purse and giving her hair a flourish.
"Not until after lunch," Lorcan replied. He was frowning down at the pitch, where the Beauxbatons students were dismounting glumly from their brooms. Rose followed his gaze, her heart thudding when she saw Jean staring straight back at them. As soon as their eyes met he turned away abruptly. Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and told herself she was being silly; it was just a stupid coincidence, people met each other's eyes all the time, it didn't mean anything…
Dom, oblivious to the strange connection taking place beside her, slipped her mirror and wand back into her bag and stood up. "Well, I'm off," she said blithely. Something about her tone made Rose pause, and she turned to give her cousin a better look, taking in her nicely done hair and make-up. On closer inspection, there was definitely a familiar gleam in her cousin's eye.
"Off where?"
Dom's smile was just a little tight to be entirely genuine. "Studying, of course. What else would I be doing?" Rose lifted an eyebrow sceptically, and Dom gave a trill of laughter. "Don't look at me like that," she said, waving her hand in front of her face and tossing her hair to one side. "Gosh Rose, you're frowning like an old woman!"
"You're imagining things," Rose replid dryly, her lips twitching in what felt like her first smile in years. "So who is it?"
To Rose's surprise, Dom's eyes flicked briefly to Lorcan, before darting away again. Rose stared between the two of them, convinced she was missing something; but Lorcan looked just as confused as she did. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Dom answered, and this time there was no imagining the nervous pitch to her voice, nor the pink that stained her cheeks. "Anyway, I'm going. Enjoy doing whatever it is the two of you do these days. See you at lunch!" She flounced off before either Rose or Lorcan could speak. Rose watched her disappear down the stairs with the rest of the crowd.
"What on earth was that about?" she asked at last.
Lorcan didn't appear to be listening. He had moved to the edge of the stands, and was still peering down at the pitch, where the Durmstrang students were finally dismounting. Rose moved up next to him, drawn involuntarily to Scorpius. He floated almost lazily to the ground, looking as comfortable upon a broomstick as she did on her own two feet.
Just relax. You know I won't let you fall.
She blinked in surprise at the sudden memory. It had been a long time since she'd revisited that particular night, when Scorpius had taken her flying around the Quidditch pitch. She'd barely touched a broom since then.
You know I won't let you fall.
"Let's go," she said, shaking her head and scolding herself for her mental lapse. Lorcan nodded, and they set off back down the stairs. When they got to the pitch they stood together for a moment, staring out at the two respective teams and their position on opposite sides of the pitch.
"I guess I'll see you at lunch," Lorcan said at last. He stared down at her, and Rose wondered for a moment if he might be about to kiss her. But in the end he only smiled and strode off towards the Beauxbatons players, leaving her with her stomach churning guiltily.
Dragic, the Durmstrang Captain, was looking altogether too pleased with himself. He puffed his chest upon seeing Rose approach, and was very quick to point out their victory to her, as though she hadn't seen it firsthand just moments ago.
"The French Captain, he is not even passing the Quaffle," he announced proudly, to Rose's horror dragging a reluctant looking Scorpius closer so he could pat him on the shoulder. "And our Seeker is catching the Snitch. This is good, no?"
"Very good, I'm sure," Rose answered stoically, keeping her gaze fixed on Dragic and ignoring the tall blonde at his side.
"Now ve get break," Dragic continued. "And to watch Hogwarts play." He suddenly looked very interested in her. "The Potter boy, he plays, no? The son of the famous – "
"Yes, son of the famous Harry Potter," she snapped. "And his daughter too. Now, you have some free time before lunch, so I would suggest – "
"My Uncle," interrupted Dragic with a large grin, "he is cousin ov Viktor Krum. You know who zis is?"
Rose frowned, very close to losing the thin grasp she had on her temper. She was acutely aware of Scorpius standing in front of her, silent and mute as a statue. Why couldn't he leave her in peace? Why did he have to stand there, a living reminder of everything she was trying to forget, and as silent as though he were as bored of her presence as she was of the Quidditch? "Yes," she said wearily. "He's actually an old family friend."
"Ah, that is right." Dragic cut a sideways glance at Scorpius that was impossible to miss. "You also are part of the Potter family, no?"
Rose felt herself stiffen. "That's right."
"So Harry Potter, he is your…?"
"Uncle. Now, there are a number of activities which might interest you in the hour or so you have to occupy yourselves before lunch. If I can kindly remind you that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds, as is the Lake which has a resident squid not all that friendly to strangers…"
Dragic barely appeared to be listening. He was staring hard at his compatriot, as though something had just occurred to him that he couldn't quite put his finger on. His gaze switched between her and Scorpius in a way that made Rose feel distinctly uncomfortable.
"Your name is Rose, yes?" he asked eventually.
Rose opened her mouth to press on with her diversionary tactics, before a burst of foreign language cut her off and caught Dragic's attention. The Durmstrang Headmaster was gesturing for him to make his way over, his expression urgent.
Dragic inclined his head apologetically, but Rose waved away his apologies, watching with muted relief as he excused himself from their presence to attend the call.
Of course, that left her alone with Scorpius. She waited for him to follow his companion and leave her alone, but he continued to stand there, his expression bored and impassive. The silence stretched awkwardly, before Rose decided to be the bigger person and rise above it.
"Congratulations," she said quietly, keeping her gaze fixed on a spot in the distance but speaking as genuinely as she could manage.
"Thanks."
"I've never seen anyone catch the Snitch that fast," she admitted begrudgingly.
"I got lucky."
"Maybe," she said, watching him closely out of the corner of her eye. "Or maybe you made your own luck."
Scorpius shrugged, but otherwise made no reply. His expressionless, unwavering gaze was making her squirm in discomfort. She wished he would look away, or storm off in anger, or do something to show her what he was thinking. Anything had to be better than the stoic mask he was wearing now.
"Remember when you crashed into the stand in second year?" she said, surprising herself with the memory. Her eyes flicked to Scorpius to find him looking as confused as she felt. "At Quidditch try-outs," she went on, unable to stop herself from finishing the reminiscence. "You dislocated your arm."
"I remember."
"But you still caught the Snitch," she added. "You still got made Seeker."
Scorpius was looking at her warily. Not that she could really blame him; she didn't know what her point was either. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. "Even back then, you did whatever it took to win. You've always done that. That's why you always get everything you want."
His expression was inscrutable, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes fixed on her unwaveringly.
"I guess that's why you're in Slytherin," she went on hurriedly. "I mean, were. Were in Slytherin." Rose closed her eyes momentarily, cursing her sudden tongue-tiedness. It didn't help when Scorpius took a step toward her, close enough that she could catch the scent of him, a mix of broomstick and fresh air and citrus. She tried not to breathe it in too deeply.
"Not everything," he said.
It took a moment for his words to make sense. When they did, Rose felt her heart give a painful thud against her ribcage. Surely he didn't mean what her heart ached for him to mean? Abandoning her attempts at avoiding his gaze, Rose stared up at him, searching his face desperately for any truth she might find there. It was impossible to tell herself she didn't care, that she felt nothing. Not when he was staring at her as though – when he was acting like –
"You – "
Her words were cut off by a shout from the other side of the pitch. Cursing silently, Rose span to see an irate Albus striding towards her. Her cousin's blazing eyes were fixed on the boy beside her.
"I should go," said Scorpius before she could speak. He shouldered his broom, and made to step away.
"Wait!" she called quickly, and he halted mid-stride, his features pinched.
"For what?" he asked bitterly.
Her breath caught in her chest. There were a thousand things she could answer to that question, but she knew none of them would come out the way she wanted. "Will I – Will I see you later?" she asked instead, then winced at how eager her words sounded. Wasn't she supposed to be acting calm and collected? When exactly had that plan gone so completely to water?
But Scorpius only cocked his head to the side, his gaze fixed on Albus where he approached, as if he barely heard her words. Before her cousin could reach them, he nodded once and turned in the opposite direction, striding away with his broom propped over his shoulder. Rose watched him go, then tore her eyes away to greet her cousin.
Albus looked furious. His green eyes flashed, and he barely spared her a glance, too busy scowling at Scorpius' retreating back. "Why the hell are you talking to that git?" he demanded loudly, clearly intending for Scorpius to catch his words. Rose frowned.
"Because I'm Head Girl, that's why. And McGonagall put me in charge of the Durmstrang students."
"You could've wriggled out of that if you'd wanted to," said Albus, still glaring in Scorpius' direction.
She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "I am not wriggling out of anything, thank you!"
Albus shot her a cynical look. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I thought you'd be avoiding him at all costs, after everything."
His words stung, but she tried not to show it. "I'm being mature, Al," she replied superciliously. "You should try it some time."
Her cousin grimaced as though he had swallowed a poorly mixed potion. "What were you talking about?"
Her eyes narrowed at the question, and she turned up her nose. "It's really none of your business. But if you must know, I was congratulating him on his victory." Yes, that's what they had been talking about. Just a nice, polite victory chat.
"You shouldn't have to do that," Albus scowled, kicking at a clod of dirt with his shoe. "He doesn't deserve it."
"This isn't about me," she insisted, pushing down the emotions welling up inside her in favour of a brusque, business-like manner. "Or Scorpius. It's an international exchange and I am Hogwarts' ambassador. I'm not going to let some silly school drama get in the way of that."
Albus had the grace to look a little chagrined. "Sorry," he said mutely. "I'm just trying to look out for you."
Her features softened as his expression pulled on her heart strings. "It's okay. I know that, and I appreciate it."
"If he says anything – I mean, I know he's on his best behaviour, but I want you to know I've got your back, if you need it."
A sudden rush of fondness for her cousin made Rose lean in and embrace him. "Thanks, Al. You're the best almost-brother I could ask for."
He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. "Don't let Hugo hear you say that. Poor guy's miserable enough as it is."
"Hugo knows how much I love him," she answered flippantly. "Speaking of which, where is my little brother?"
"Banned from the games." Albus was already looking back over the pitch, towards where the rest of the Hogwarts Quidditch team huddled. "Knowing him he's probably moping around trying to catch a glimpse from one of the towers."
"Well, he certainly didn't miss much," Rose frowned. "Tell Lily I'll never forgive her if she lets Scorpius catch the Snitch that easily again."
A wry grin graced Albus' features. Rose was glad to see it. "As if," he said, before his amusement faded. He hesitated for a second, before asking quietly, "You're sure Scorpius isn't bothering you?"
She thought about the pain on Scorpius' face as he turned away from her, of the harshness in his voice when he asked, What for? Of the way her heart raced whenever he was close to her. Of the itch she had to sink into his arms once more. "No, he's not bothering me," she lied. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be. I think… you know, I think I might finally be getting over him."
"Good." Al's grin stretched and he gave her shoulder another squeeze. "Well, I'd better run. Tactics to plan and all that. See you later Rosie."
She watched him walk away, before calling out, "Hey, you haven't seen Dom around anywhere have you?"
He turned and walked backwards for a few steps, shaking his head. "Nope. Last I saw she was heading back to the castle. She's probably getting lunch."
"Yeah, but with who?" Rose muttered to herself, as Albus walked back to rejoin his teammates. Her curiosity was piqued, but she knew Dom wouldn't appreciate her nosiness. Her cousin would tell her when she was ready, and besides, Merlin knew she owed Dom a secret or two.
The mention of lunch made Rose realise how hungry she was. Glad to have something to do with herself, she wandered back to the castle, relishing the warm spring sunshine and blue sky above her; Scotland had certainly put on a show for her visitors. No doubt as soon as the tournament was over it would be back to overcast and drizzle. Idly, she wondered what the weather was like at Durmstrang. They certainly dressed like they came from a cooler climate – perhaps she could ask Scorpius. Maybe he could even tell her –
She stopped short at the sight of a shivering first year at the bottom of the castle steps, clutching an open, empty school bag to his chest. He looked ruffled, his robe hanging off one shoulder and his glasses askew. There were grimy tear tracks streaked across his cheek.
Frowning, Rose walked up to him and crouched down to his level. She only vaguely recognised him; from memory, she thought he might have been a Slytherin. "Are you alright?" she asked softly, attempting to catch his eye.
The boy flinched as though she had struck him. He sniffed, dragging a sleeve across his face, then looked forlornly down at his empty bag. "They stole my homework," he said in a miserable voice.
Her frown deepened and she asked a little curtly, "Who stole your homework?"
The boy's eyes flickered to her and away again. Bottom lip poking out slightly, he pointed around the corner of the castle to the owlery tower. "They ran that way," he said. "Cauldrish is going to kill me."
Rose straightened without another word and marched in the direction he had pointed, righteous anger simmering beneath her skin. She rounded the tower, feet sinking slightly in the soft earth, and stopped with her arms folded, ready to deliver a serve to the bullies she was expecting to find.
There was noone there.
Rose opened her mouth, then closed it again and shook her head. She walked a little further on, rounding the tower to the shadowed stretch of grass that ran away to the Forbidden Forest. From this angle, her view of the Quidditch pitch and the main thoroughfare was obscured, and the sounds of the students muffled. It made for a strange, somewhat unnverving sense of quiet after the din of the game.
She skirted the edge of the tower, her eyes roving the edge of the treeline for signs of movement. But there was noone there that she could see. The wind blew and she shivered, rubbing her arms; in the shadow of the castle, the sun seemed far less bright than it had down on the pitch. Her neck prickled and she turned back the way she had come, deciding that it was easier simply to take the first-year to Professor Cauldrish herself to explain.
It was as she turned, that her eyes caught the subtle ripple in the air, the not-quite-right texture of the wall to her left. Her hand dove in her pocket, but an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back before she could reach her wand. Hot breath washed over her neck and a terrifyingly familiar voice echoed in her ear, "Sorry about this, Weasley."
She barely had time to fill her lungs for a scream before there was a flash of blinding light, and the world went dark.