Chapter Twelve: Not-Brave

Rose wasn't expecting anyone to be at the Potter-Weasley box at the Quidditch stadium. Hell, even she hadn't fully decided on going until that afternoon. She'd stayed up half the night, scribbling furiously until she made some sense of her emotional state, then accidentally slept through the morning.

She sent a sick note into work, but it was late; she had no idea what Scorpius would think of her impromptu mental health day, or how he would read into it. Not to mention that she felt guilty for taking off just days before their deadline, which was not going to go over well. Secretly, she was hoping that Scorpius would go ahead and write the article about Emily and James without her.

Rose wanted to face her problems; she really did. But she could not—would not—write that article.

Instead, she thought the next best option was to go to the Quidditch game. Partially to absolve her guilt—she'd bought a little paper Puddlemere flag, in support of Emily—but also because she hadn't watched a full game since The Accident, and since she'd already broken the ice by going to the pitch a few times, watching the game couldn't hurt, right?

She was immediately proven wrong, for two reasons:

One: the Wasps—her old team, with the majority of her old teammates—were the opposing team.

Two: her dad was already in the box, watching the game.

Rose stood at the entrance, cane and flag in one hand and popcorn in the other, feeling silly for being so apprehensive. She loved her dad, but they hadn't really spoken about her departure from Quidditch or her picture with Scorpius in The Daily Prophet. Besides, he was probably going to steal all her popcorn.

Before she'd made a decision, her dad turned around and spotted her, shooting her a huge grin. "Hey, Rosie! This is a nice surprise."

"Hey, Dad," she said, putting on her best smile as she slid onto the bench beside him and reached over for a side hug.

"Great day for a match, eh?" he asked. "Just a bit overcast and the summer heat has really died down."

Rose nodded in agreement, pulling the ends of her cardigan tighter around her. Ron grabbed a handful of popcorn, mouth still full when he started cheering and clapping for the marching band, doing their bit before the players came out. She couldn't help but smile, despite the grilling that was definitely going to happen about that picture of Scorpius and her.

But after the Puddlemere Keeper blocked the goal, Ron surprised her by asking, "So, what brings you here?"

She shrugged. "No reason, really. Just thought I'd see my old team on the field."

"You haven't wanted to see them for a long time."

A full year. But who was counting? "I've been busy."

"And you're not busy in the middle of the week," he said slowly as she avoided his knowing gaze, "when you're usually working."

"I got a day off?" It came out a question, despite her best efforts.

Ron frowned. "Don't you have deadlines towards the end of every month?"

"Dad," she groaned just as the game began, horns blaring out the starting tune and the crowd cheering and whistling. She was grateful for the distraction, but her father was not deterred.

"I'm just saying," he said loudly into her ear, "that if you want to talk about it…"

Rose was determinedly staring at the pitch, but the Wasps had just marched out, whooping and waving to their fans. She felt a forceful pang as she witnessed her former team, almost knocking the wind from her lungs. Perhaps for the first time since The Accident, she almost missed getting pumped at the beginning of a game, the rush of adrenaline mixed with an unwinding of nerves, the promise of a good challenge.

Almost.

She turned to her father, away from the game. "I'm avoiding work because I work with Scorpius Malfoy and I just found out we're soulmates and he's been keeping it a secret from me for three years and he's upset with me and everything is a huge mess."

The referee blew the whistle and the players whooshed after the Quaffle, but Ron stared at his daughter, slack-jawed, popcorn still in his mouth.

It took several moments for him to close his mouth, swallow, and speak again. "Soulmates? Malfoy?"

She nodded. Her face felt hot, but she supposed it was bound to come out, sooner or later. "Yeah."

Long after Rose turned back to the game, Ron let out a heavy breath. "Honestly, I don't know much about this SoulMates business. I thought there were just some rumours about you two."

"It's just a spell, I suppose. Tells you who you're meant to be with."

"And are you…" He looked green. "Together?"

"Not exactly." Rose shifted in her seat. She knew telling her father was a bad idea, since any mention of the Malfoy family usually resulted in long rants and curses. She'd had a plan, of course, in how to tell her family about Scorpius, the way she would ideally paint the picture.

But it somehow came tumbling out, how Albus and Orion had faked the SoulMate test, how she and Scorpius ended up having feelings for each other (conveniently leaving out certain details) and the truth coming out later. It was obvious she was anxious and miserable about the whole ordeal, effectively ruining her plan.

But maybe the entire idea—that he was almost perfect—was never real, anyway.

Her father watched a Puddlemere Chaser (not Emily) score a goal before speaking again. "Rose… soulmates or not, does he make you happy?"

She was surprised when she let out a chuckle. "I don't know how to answer that."

Ron had another few kernels of popcorn, waiting.

"If I'm being honest," she said slowly, attempting to unravel what she'd scribbled in her journal the night before, "we may not have had the chance to figure that out yet. I guess all this SoulMates stuff came in between."

"I'd say so."

"All I really know is that I care for him," she admitted. And was unbearably attracted to Scorpius, not that she would say that to her father. "And I know I hurt him, too, by running away. I should've gone to work, but I don't know how to fix things anymore. I don't know how to go back."

Her father nodded. "I've made that mistake before. But what ended up mattering was that I did go back, again and again. That at least I tried."

That hit Rose in the gut.

When she didn't reply, he nudged her arm gently. "Of course, if it turns out that I need to chat with him…"

"Dad, no," she said immediately, laughing. "This is my mess. I know I have to figure it out."

"Just let me know," he said innocently. His eyes slid down to Rose's cane. "Are you going back to work?"

"I'm going to finish the game."

Ron cleared his throat. "I understand there's this whole SoulMates issue, but you haven't said anything about Quidditch."

Her eyes went back to the players; Emily had learned a new move with her new Chasers, some sort of looping pattern as they passed the Quaffle to each other, and it sent another pang through her. "I guess there's not much to say. I've moved on."

"Did you ever try that physical therapy Hugo recommended?" he asked. "I would try it. Since the heart attack, I've focused on improving my health, and his suggestions were very helpful."

"I didn't, no." Rose ate another handful of popcorn, feeling guilty; she'd meant to go, she really had, but it had slipped her mind over the past year. Just as her doctor's appointments had. "I did see Hugo at the Healer's office recently."

"He mentioned that things hadn't gotten better with your leg."

She shrugged.

Her father nudged her arm again. "Rosie, why don't you want to try therapy?"

"I can walk," she said, wishing he would stop looking between her outstretched leg and her cane. "I go to work, I do groceries, I see friends."

"But you don't play Quidditch anymore."

"I don't want to play anymore." She felt defensive, but she couldn't help it. "I know that sucks to hear, but I'm never going back. I don't even want to write about Quidditch anymore."

Ron seemed taken aback. "Rosie, I want what you want. And you love the game, I know you do. You used to cry when we told you to stop flying to come in for supper."

"That was a long time ago. Before all the fame and pressure messed everything up."

Her vision blurred, and until she blinked, the players seemed fuzzy and far away. There was a moment of silence between her and her father, filled with cheers around them as the Wasps scored a goal.

"Does it still bother you?" Ron asked finally, long after the clapping stopped. "Even seeing the game… does it remind you of The Accident?"

All the time, Rose wanted to scream. "Yeah."

"You never talk about it."

Until recently, she really hadn't; it was too painful. Even there in the stands, she was attempting to put aside her old habits of micro-analyzing every play, and just watch as an outsider. Someone who didn't turn every move inside out, who didn't anticipate every strategy known to man, that the Wasps Keeper would be bricking it until she blocked her first goal, and what a win would mean for the Captain. Someone who didn't know what it was like to play through thunderstorms, blizzards and a father in the hospital.

She was failing quite spectacularly.

"If my leg gets better," she mumbled, "then that means there's nothing stopping me from going back to Quidditch." Until she said the words aloud, she didn't realize how true it felt.

"Who said that?"

Rose threw up her hands, nearly knocking popcorn everywhere. "Emily? James? Albus? Everyone, Dad. I officially retired, but everyone keeps asking me when I'm going to play again."

"That isn't fair." He put an arm around her shoulders, and it was the first time she felt the tension ease in them. "Don't let people's expectations bother you. You need to make your own decisions."

She leaned into him and closed her eyes. She wondered if he knew how afraid she was to disappoint him. "Do you really mean that?"

"Absolutely. Don't go back to Quidditch," Ron said definitively, squeezing her tightly. "But don't let it stop you from the parts of it you loved. And don't let it stop you from trying physical therapy or healing your leg, if you can."

Rose took a deep breath, taking in those words, and something calmed inside herself. The thing that had been trying to make everyone else happy, pretend nothing was different, when it was obvious everything had changed. When she looked back up at the players—at Emily, hurling the Quaffle at the goalpost, scoring a goal—the twisting in her stomach was still there, but it told her something important.

Playing Quidditch professionally hadn't made her happy. And finally, she could let go of the idea that it should have.

It still took another hour for The Wasps to catch the Snitch, which gave Rose a bit of time to work up some courage. Not much, but it would do.

Her heart was pounding as she waited for the Puddlemere team to come out near the change rooms. She didn't know if this whole thing was going to blow up in her face, but some part of her just wanted to know. That even if their friendship was over after this article, having that understanding was at least more definitive. At least, that's what she was telling herself.

Rose wasn't sure how long she stood there, but finally, the team trailed out, looking grumpy and exhausted from losing the game. Emily and James came out last, and though their hands weren't intertwined, their shoulders bumped together as they walked. Emily's already downcast expression soured further as she saw Rose, stopping short in front of her.

James—still putting on an act, as though she didn't know everything—broke out in a grin. "Caught the game, Rosie?"

She nodded. "You put up a good fight, Player of the Year."

"The Wasps' Keeper is excellent," James admitted begrudgingly.

"Any chance we could chat?" Rose asked, directing the question towards Emily. She had hoped she imagined it, but Emily confirmed her true feelings towards Rose as she gave a sharp nod, unsmiling.

James seemed unconcerned. "I guess I'll just wait by the entrance, yeah?"

If it was possible to feel a deeper dread building in her, Rose felt it as she walked over to the change room entrance where Emily was waiting, somehow having crossed her arms even with a broom in one hand. Her hair was damp and down, and Rose realized she'd nearly forgotten what Emily had looked like without her usual braids.

"So," Emily said, jaw clenched hard. "What's up? It's been a tiring game, and we've got to work on play strategies tonight."

"This is important."

"On with it, then."

Rose shifted to her good leg and crossed her arms. "It's about your soulmate situation."

She scoffed. "Seriously? That's what you want?"

"Quidditch World is going to publish that it's James. In the issue that's coming out next week."

All signs of irritation were instantly replaced with shock.

Nevertheless, Emily's voice was calm. "How did you find out?"

"We were spying," Rose said, and instantly backtracked. "I mean, Scorpius was spying on your practices, and I happened to be at the Pitch last night—"

"You were spying?" she demanded. "Fucking spying, after all we've been through with the press—"

"—it wasn't my choice, I was trying to stop him, and—"

"—and I thought you were just questioning people, which was bad enough!"

This made Rose stop. "You—you knew?"

"Of course I knew!" she spat. She was gripping her broom so tightly her fingers had gone purple. "Adam told James weeks ago—they're best mates—and he told me right away! You were really fucking obvious about questioning me, anyway."

If Rose gave a shit about her job anymore, even a little bit, that would've stung.

"Why are you even doing this?" Emily continued angrily. "I thought we were friends."

"We haven't been proper friends for a long time," she blurted out. She hadn't told Emily that before; to be honest, she'd never admit it to herself before. But it was true. "You didn't seem to be interested after I left Quidditch."

"I didn't seem to be interested?"

"I tried to see you. I owled you plenty of times—"

"I never got any owls."

Rose paused. "None of them?"

"Not after the brunch we had, ages ago. I tried to owl you a couple of times after that, but the letters returned unopened. I thought you were angry with me."

"I moved to Muggle London to get away from all the reporters," she said, resisting the urge to press her palm against her forehead. "Maybe your owl couldn't find me."

"And I moved, too." Emily seemed to be having the same revelation, and a look of dismay crossed over her face. "Godric's Hollow, to be away from the paps, but also closer to James. "Maybe your owl couldn't find me, either."

They stared at each other for a long moment, the loss passing in between them.

Rose couldn't stand anymore; she sat down on the freshly cut grass, stretching her legs out in front of her. Emily plopped down across from her, tossing her broom aside. "I can't believe this," she said in a small voice.

"Me neither."

"We haven't really owled each other since summer hols back at Hogwarts," Emily pointed out. "We practically lived on the Pitch when you were playing Quidditch. Before, whenever I had to tell you something, I'd just wait 'til practice."

Rose let out a long breath. "I think I did the same thing." It was strange to think that after a year of feeling hurt and blindsided, their loss of friendship was because of a simple misunderstanding.

"Can I admit something completely horrible?" Emily was looking at Rose's outstretched leg, which was still throbbing.

"Okay."

"I pretended your leg injury was fake. After your accident."

That one did sting. Even though Rose already sort of knew it. "You did?"

"It was stupid," she whispered, shaking her head. "I took your retirement so personally. I felt like you were abandoning me."

"I wasn't," Rose insisted, but her mind was reeling. "I know we were a duo, but it wasn't about you at all. Maybe it didn't seem like that way, but it's true."

"I thought you would've quit when your dad went to St. Mungo's, and our captain wouldn't let you go see him until the game ended."

"That didn't help."

Emily moved her hair over her shoulder, fiddling with the ends awkwardly.

"I can't go back to Quidditch, Em," Rose told her, perhaps telling Emily this for the first time—properly, anyway. "Maybe at first it was because of my injury. I still can't throw and I'm still limping, all the time. But now it's because I can admit that I wasn't happy going pro, not for a long time."

"I didn't know that."

She picked a glade of grass off the ground and twisted it into a knot. "With the press, the travelling, the loneliness… Quidditch sort of makes me sad, now. And it reminds me of failure."

That was probably the most difficult thing to admit, considering how in denial she'd been about it.

Emily looked surprised. "You're still writing about Quidditch, though. For that magazine."

"For a while, I couldn't imagine doing anything not involving Quidditch." She'd been forced to think through that decision—to work at a magazine—thanks to all the spying nonsense. "But I think it's time to move on."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to quit my job," Rose admitted. Her stomach loosened just thinking about it.

There was a long silence.

"I thought you were going to write a story on James and I," Emily said, clearly trying not to sound nervous, but she was. "Isn't that why you came here?"

"I came here because I felt terrible about it," she explained, flicking the blade of grass away. "It's not even going to be me who's going to report on you, that's all Scorpius. He's the one who has to keep his job. He doesn't have Quidditch league money saved up in Gringotts."

Emily was struggling to understand. "But… don't you two work together? Davis said…"

"Yes. Well." Rose shrugged. "Until the end of the week, probably."

"But you're together." She leaned in, clearly confused. "Aren't you?"

"No."

"But at the gala, you were," she persisted, "weren't you? I saw the way he looked at you. And the way you looked at him."

A lump formed in Rose's throat that she immediately swallowed. "We've never been together. And I'm not sure it's going to work out, because he lied to me."

Emily waited, but Rose didn't want to explain further. One day, but not yet.

"I still considered you my best friend this past year," Rose disclosed instead, which instantly sounded silly. But it was the truth. "And maybe things have changed, but you'll always be my friend, at least in my mind."

She snorted. "You're still my best friend, too. This past year can't erase everything like that."

"I'm sorry. I really am."

"And as your best friend," Emily said, sitting up straight, "there's something I have to say."

Rose looked at her questioningly.

"You," she said, reaching over and poking Rose in the shoulder, "are being a fucking chicken."

"Huh?"

"You should've retired like the Quidditch queen you were," she said, holding up her palm and ticking off a finger, "and you didn't. You ran away when you had an excuse. You couldn't even tell me, your supposed best friend, that you didn't love being a Chaser anymore."

"My injury wasn't an excuse," Rose argued, but it felt weak after what she had admitted to her father. She didn't need an injury to retire, but she sure as hell had jumped at the opportunity. The other day, she'd felt downright relieved when her leg started to ache again. Should she have retired years before, when she had actually wanted to?

"And you love the idea of soulmates," Emily continued, ticking off another finger. "Remember us lying in our four-posters in the dormitories, dreaming about who our soulmates could be? We were obsessed. And now you're telling me you've found him, and you're not even going to fight for it?"

"He lied to me."

"Everyone lies!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "I lied to you. James was totally freaked out about us being soulmates, he only did the test as a joke. He was completely intending on continuing his bachelor life, even after I showed up."

"What—are you serious?" Rose yelped, indignant. Her eyes drew to the gates, where James was scrolling on his phone, not-so-subtly stealing glances at her and Emily. "I'm going to kill him."

Emily laughed. "Don't worry, Rosie. There's a reason we're soulmates. We got stuck doing this non-profit campaign together, and the rest fell into place."

Her heart warmed from the familiar nickname. "But then—why did you lie? At the Gala?"

Emily looked guilty. "To make you jealous. I know you wanted to do the SoulMates thing, and I was pissed you joined the press and were so obviously questioning into my story. It was stupid."

"It's not." Rose looked down at her hands, feeling equally guilty. "I didn't want to work on your story or expose you. But Scorpius' job is on the line, and I need to help him."

"You love him." It was very matter-of-fact, but her tone was also gentle.

Rose nodded, cheeks feeling warm. "After The Accident, I just wanted to get on with my life. And I like writing, so…"

"Quidditch World. Got it."

"Not my best decision." Not that she would have changed it for the world.

"But if you're quitting your job, it's not because Quidditch makes you sad," she said, ticking off the third finger. "You've been there for a year, you can handle it. It's not because of me, either—I've been a shit friend. It's because you're running away from Malfoy."

Rose met her fierce gaze. "So what if I run away? What's so wrong with that?"

"Seriously?" Emily chuckled, almost sarcastically. "Listen, if you want to back down and live a miserable, cowardly life, you can do that. But that's not the Rose I know."

"I'm not the Rose you knew," she corrected, jaw clenching, "and I don't want to be her anymore."

"Maybe not," Emily replied coolly, "but in not being her, are you purposefully trying to be the opposite? Because I don't think that's going to work out for you."

This struck Rose harder than she was prepared for.

Because there was something about the way she said it that made her stop and think for a moment. Like something that had been missing for a while, and something had clicked. That somehow, in the midst of leaving Quidditch, dealing with a debilitating injury, and working a job she didn't really care for beyond paying her bills?

Rose had lost her goddamn nerve.

And if she was going to get it back, she was going to have to do the hard things. Like speaking honestly with her dad, with Emily. Fixing things with Scorpius, telling him how she felt. Being truly honest about her writing, and who she was.

It took a while for her to answer. "I'm not really sure who I am anymore," she confessed, hands sinking into the grass beside her. She seemed to be saying that a lot lately. "Sometimes I think I've grasped onto it, but then… nothing really feels right."

But some things did feel right, didn't they?

Leaving Quidditch and not having to anxiously think about how she would win her next game. Writing her stories again. Hanging out with Laila. Relaxing at a pub with Albus and Orion. Passing notes with Scorpius. Giving him that journal and seeing his eyes light up.

And becoming close with Emily again. That felt right, too.

Having the courage to confront her best friend really would've served her well, come to think of it. If only she'd realized it before.

"It's not really about who we think we are," Emily pondered aloud, "but I think it's who we choose to be. And Rose, if you quit your job, you're choosing to run away from him."

She wasn't so sure that was true. "But I'm not leaving my job because of Scorpius. This job wasn't right for me."

"Are you sure about that?"

The disagreement clearly showed on Rose's face because Emily shrugged and stood up, dusting off her hands. "Listen, I actually need to give an interview about this, because the whole rumour with Davis is getting out of hand. And I want you to publish it, not Malfoy."

Rose scrambled to stand up. "Wait—why?"

"I only joined Puddlemere because when James and I started dating, we were on different teams," Emily explained, picking up her broom. "It was bad, but James convinced Davis to let me try out for Puddlemere. You know how it is: the only thing worse than dating someone on your own team…"

"...is dating someone from a rival team," Rose finished, stunned.

"And then that stupid rumour started, because Witch Weekly sucks," she complained. "And James, my dearest soulmate but also complete idiot, thought it was way better to tell you that I was dating our captain than to tell you our secret and ruin his bachelor image. I was never in favour of that."

This made sense—why James had told Rose at the gala that Emily was dating Davis, but she had insisted she wasn't. It also made sense why she'd told Rose about meeting her soulmate, if she wanted it to come out eventually.

"You really want me to interview you?" Rose pressed, uncertain. "It'll be out on Monday. James' bachelor status will be dead and gone."

"Yeah." Emily snorted. "James wants to elope, anyway—might as well happen sooner rather than later, right?"

Rose wasn't sure that was a good decision, but Emily clearly wasn't looking for feedback. She slung her broom over her shoulder and started walking towards the change rooms.

"Wait—Em?" she called, making Emily turn around again. Rose wasn't sure if she had any right to say it, but maybe Emily was right: she had to fight for what she wanted. "I—I want to be there when you get married. Even if you elope."

Emily grinned at Rose, looking truly happy for the first time since The Accident. Like how she looked before a game, or Christmas morning, or—as she witnessed the day before—with James. "There's no one else I'd rather have there."

And that, somehow, made everything okay again.

It was getting late, but it wasn't a difficult decision; of course she was going to Scorpius' flat to tell him about the interview. There was zero chance she would fall asleep anyway, being so wired, and besides, Emily was right: Rose was done running away. It wasn't going to solve anything between them to avoid him.

And maybe, if she hadn't been running away all year, she would have resolved things with Emily a long time ago. Or even her father, who as it turned out, just wanted her to be happy.

Her leg had forgotten to ache as she'd climbed up the three flights of stairs, but she could feel the consequence of not levitating herself by the time she knocked on the door. The sandwich she'd inhaled for dinner felt rumbly in her stomach as she heard footsteps approach the door, unlock it and swing open.

Rose probably should have rehearsed what she was going to say, because she could only stare up at Scorpius, unable to get her mouth to form any words at all.

Off to a great start.

"Hi," he said, looking just as uncomfortable, and also, for some reason, slightly sweaty. He was in joggers and she could see stacks of boxes hovering magically behind him, along with the faint sound of (probably) Orion packing things away, somewhere deep in their flat.

Scorpius wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "You weren't at work today."

"I was technically working." She wrapped her arms around herself; now that she was paying attention, the instinct to run away or make an excuse was tempting, and even though she'd felt confident in her decision just a minute before, standing in front of him changed things. "I mean, I hadn't exactly planned to, but…"

"You were working?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you left," he admitted quietly. "For good."

The look on his face felt as though it was grabbing her around the throat.

"But I came back." It came out croaky. And a little hopeful, especially when something softened in his eyes. It was reluctant, but there was definitely something there.

Rose began to rummage through her bag. "Listen, I don't know if you wrote the article yet. But I was at the Puddlemere game, and I got—well, maybe you should just see—" She handed her notebook to him, opening to the transcript of the conversation she'd just finished with Emily and James.

"This is…" His head snapped up. "You got an interview?"

"An exclusive, Scorpius. Emily wants the truth out there, and she chose us." Rose felt the excitement building again as Scorpius turned a page, scanning the contents. "Barnes is going to shit himself."

The next seconds that passed were excruciatingly slow.

"Right," Scorpius finally said, handing her book back to her. "I guess we can figure this out tomorrow morning. Good work."

Her heart sank. Good work? Were they back to being co-workers?

"You don't even want to read it through?"

"I got the gist. It's fine." When she didn't reply, he added, "Honestly, it is."

She shoved the notebook back onto his chest, and he stumbled back a step.

"Why are you being like this?" she demanded. "We've been working on this all month, we finally got exactly what we need—I bought you time, you might get your promotion now!"

"And I appreciate that."

"You appreciate—you're the one who's been lying to me!" She could feel her voice rising, which was exactly how she didn't want this to go. "I thought this might… I don't know, get us closer—"

"You're only here because of this," he burst out, jabbing himself in the chest, where her name was tattooed under his t-shirt.

Rose stopped, because even as his voice had matched her volume, the way he said the words was so definitive.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" he reiterated when she didn't reply. "Because of SoulMates?"

"Are you being serious right now?"

"You know we're soulmates now," Scorpius said slowly, and though his voice was hard, she sensed the sadness underneath them. The sadness that was familiar, if she thought about it. "That's why you're here. You wouldn't be here if we weren't."

It took a moment to gather herself.

"I have been here," she stated, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "This entire time, I thought we weren't soulmates, but I've still been here, at the gala, at the fucking Quidditch pitch—"

"That was different, it's for your job."

"—because I care about you."

He was insistent, shaking his head, likely unaware that he was bending the pages of her notebook in his hands.

Why didn't he believe her? Why wasn't he apologizing?

But before Rose could try to defend herself again—how, what else she could say, what else she could do, she had no idea—she saw Orion emerge from his bedroom, coming up behind Scorpius and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Mate," he said gently, "I think you should just tell her."

"Tell her what?" Rose was surprised to find that she and Scorpius had spoken in unison.

"What you've always suspected."

Scorpius was staring at Orion like he was seeing him for the first time, speaking carefully. "You're going to have to be very specific here."

Orion turned to Rose, giving her a gloomy smile that was loaded with something she couldn't put her finger on. "That SoulMates isn't really… well, soulmates."

A/N: *peeks out meekly* Hiiiii all... if anyone is still there lol!

I really do apologize for the hiatus I ended up taking last year and leaving this story unfinished. I always wanted to finish it, but I got stuck with the ending and suddenly, a year had passed? Towards the end of last year, I decided I wanted to bring back some of the joy into my life, so I've been working on this story again and a couple of others. I received some lovely comments that really helped me start writing again 3

I hope you liked this chapter, and I'm nearly finished with the next one, so hoping to update very soon. Thank you for reading :)