ROSE WEASLEY AND THE MEMORY THIEF
Disclaimer: HP, the Wizarding World, and all those lovely canon names and characters are property of JKR, and we are just lucky enough to get to play in her sandbox. Everything you find here is a work of fiction, similarities to real life are totally unintentional. Additionally any fanart or extras you might find here belong to their creators, and will be credited accordingly.



Welcome to our fic, belatedly being posted (and completed) by me (Tegz) and Ern (Cassirin). This story was first begun back in November 2011 as our joint effort at nanowrimo, which we won, so that gives you an idea of how much reading you have in store for you, over 100,000 words (mind you that's pre-editing). We're exclusively posting this here on SS for right now, so if you see it elsewhere... it shouldn't be. We are hoping to make our fic interactive so once we get things rolling keep an eye out for polls and opportunities to contribute. If you DO want to make any graphics or fan art, we would LOVE to have it. Anyone who does will be linked in this first post, either to individual works, or to shop posts or albums etc. Yeah we're probably too ambitious for our own good! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy! - Tegz

Chapter Guide
PART ONE
Chapter 1 - The Hogwarts Express
1.1 On The Platform (Scorpius)
1.2 Leaving the Station (Rose)
1.3 The Slytherin Carriage (Scorpius)
1.4 The Prefect Compartment (Rose)

Chapter 2 - Back at Hogwarts
2.1 The Welcoming Feast (Scorpius)
2.2 After the Feast (Rose)
2.3 Viridis (Scorpius)

Chapter 3 - Classes and Quidditch
3.1 Potions Class (Rose)
3.2 Everybody Crushes on a Weasley Girl at Least Once (Scorpius)
3.3 There Is Squishing (Rose)
3.4 Slytherin Tryouts (Scorpius)

Chapter 4 - The Hidden Journal
4.1 In The Slytherin Common Room (Scorpius)
4.2 Gryffindors in the Library (Rose)
4.3 Scorpius Discovers the Journal (Scorpius)
4.4 The Hidden Journal (Scorpius/Journal)

PART TWO

Chapter 5 - Hogsmeade and Halloween
5.1 Overthinking Everything. Like Usual. (Rose)
5.2 Hogsmeade Meet-ups (Rose)
5.3 Have Something Orange (Scorpius)

Chapter 6 - Games and Politics
6.1 Easier to Find if You're a Little Lost (Scorpius/Journal)
6.2 Hatstall (Scorpius)
6.3 When Lily Happens (Rose)
6.4 Old and New Rounds (Rose)

Chapter 7 - Christmas
7.1 Jayne Gets a Date (Rose)
7.2 A Date and a Favour (Scorpius)
7.3 I'll See You in Three Weeks (Scorpius/Journal)
7.4 Christmas at the Burrow (Rose)

Chapter 8 - New Years and Nuances
8.1 Hogmanay (Rose)
8.2 The Past is History (Scorpius)
8.3 The Study of Ancient Runes (Rose)
8.4 Like a Fungus (Scorpius)
8.5 Personal History (Rose)

Extras Guide
Book Cover (Tegz)
Nera Zabini (Tegz)
Jayne Wood (Tegz)
Apollo Burke (Tegz)
Rose and Scorpius (Stefan)
Book Cover 2 (Tegz)

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1.1 On The Platform

Oblivious to the usual hustle and bustle of Platform 9 3/4, Scorpius Malfoy abandoned his trunk to the porter who would stack it with the others piled at the end of the platform where the luggage car would soon appear. This year was the first time that Scorpius had seen himself off at Kings Cross. Partly fueled by the fact that his mother's usual goodbye kisses always made him blush and more often than not served as a source of embarrassment in front of his friends, it had seemed like a good idea when he'd thought of it during the summer. He was sixteen, he didn't need his parents to hold his hand and bring him to the station. He could get there on his own, meet up with his friends, and board the express without any unnecessary fuss. It had taken some arguing on his part and his mum had been pretty put out by it but eventually he'd managed to convince his parents to let him go on his own. The trouble was that he'd had to take the floo since he wasn't yet old enough to apparate, and it was a bit of a walk to the station through Muggle London. Really it had become more of a mission than he'd considered when he had first made the argument to be allowed to go alone. Come to think of it that was probably why his father had allowed it. A lesson in there somewhere. Draco Malfoy was big on lessons.

Scorpius didn't have any problem with Muggles, it was just that there were so many of them, and they were always in such a hurry. Even though he'd left early enough that he'd arrive well before the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, Scorpius had still needed to fight the urge to hurry himself. It was as if the sense of urgency from the Muggles had infected him. It was hard to imagine that anyone could be so desperate to get somewhere that they would rush and barely say a word to apologize when they knocked into him, but all any of them did was pepper him with dull-eyed, preoccupied glances before looking away as if it had broken some sort of rule to never make eye contact with a stranger. Maybe wizards only apologized to people they barged into to avoid a hexing but Scorpius still found himself coming to the conclusion that, as a whole, Muggles were a bit rude.

"Malfoy!"

Almost as soon as he had deposited his trunk with the porter he was greeted by one of his dorm mates, a tall and lanky boy with teeth that Scorpius privately considered unfortunate. But, being as Vincent Nott was something resembling a friend, he chose not to comment on the other boy's large bucked teeth. This didn't of course stop others from doing so or stop Scorpius from secretly finding it funny when they did, unless it was a Gryffindor, in which case he was almost obliged to be bothered on Nott's behalf. Scorpius sauntered over casually and clapped Nott on the shoulder.

"Alright, Nott?"

"Alright." It was as if the boy's teeth were talking. Scorpius averted his eyes, glancing around for any of the others. Nott began talking about his summer, and what he'd been doing since he'd last seen Scorpius a few weeks earlier. Scorpius was only half-listening while he kept an eye out for his best friends, Apollo Burke and Takeshi Haneda. Takeshi would be exactly on time and no earlier, but Apollo was likely here somewhere already.

It was almost as if just by thinking about the tall Greek boy he had summoned him. Apollo appeared at his shoulder in that silent way he had, not bothering to say hello, and Nott continued to chatter on oblivious to the fact that he only had a fraction of Scorpius and Apollo's interest. Scorpius relaxed a little now that Apollo was there and continued to distractedly scan the growing crowd. The two boys stood head and shoulders above most of the children milling about, taller again than Nott by a head and a half. Still and watchful, they had none of the nerves exhibited by the overexcited first years about to take their first journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they could afford to feel as if they were above it all. The badges which Scorpius and Apollo wore pinned to their chests further separated them from the masses and picked them out as students who were known by everyone, though perhaps not universally admired. Even the greenest first years would soon know their names. It could be a heady feeling at times. Apollo, Scorpius knew, relished in it. For Scorpius himself there was another level to the strange instant recognition of him in his position as Slytherin's Quidditch Captain, because he carried with him a particularly recognizable family name. Malfoy. It was one which caused whispers even still, even now, a generation on from the Battle of Hogwarts.

It was strange, he reflected, to attend school with the children of the people who had been on the other side of the war from your own family. Even if things were different now, there were some things that couldn't be overcome so easily. Some resentments and old prejudices remained. By this time Liam Pucey and Curtis Flint had joined them too and the boys stood around with their hands thrust in pockets, joking around while Scorpius remained silent and introspective, looking out over the throng and losing himself in his own thoughts.

"You're quiet." Apollo observed near his ear, and Scorpius shot him a small smile and a shrug.

"Everyone else is making plenty of noise."

"They usually do." Apollo agreed, "A quarter of a population of Gryffindors is a quarter of a population too many."

Nott chimed in with a comment about bloody Weasleys being everywhere and Scorp looked back at him, following the other boy's gaze to where a gaggle of them were milling about, laughing with one another and saying their goodbyes. It never failed to amaze Scorpius how many of them there were or how many of them seemed to turn out every year. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a Weasley on its own. Nott made a derisive comment about rabbits and laughed at his own joke, but Scorpius found himself watching them thoughtfully. He almost wished his own mother was there after all to give him hugs and embarrassing kisses goodbye.

He was acutely aware that standing on the platform without his own parents or grandparents seeing him off made him look... well... lonely and unloved, he supposed, which matched up fairly well to what many thought about his family, but they didn't know. His family were close and he didn't much care for the looks he was currently getting, Nott's laughter having caught the attention of a few of the Weasley brood and their various hangers on. James Potter was looking smug and whispering loudly in Fred Weasley's ear. Fred's was nodding and chortling, his freckle dusted grin suggesting that he'd never heard a single thing funnier than whatever James had just said. Both boys stared directly at Scorpius, making it clear enough that he was the topic of conversation. Nott made a few more rude comments, seemingly unaware that he didn't have anyone's full attention, the antipathy of the rabbit-toothed sixth year towards the predominately Gryffindor family was blindingly obvious and entirely expected. Really it'd be stranger to begin the school term without it.

The train arrived and resulted in two things; a cheer going up from those gathered on the platform and a staring match of some intensity between the two groups of boys. Scorpius kept his expression stony, but he was seething quietly. While Fred and James weren't making any secret of their opinions, admittedly Scorp was reading into it a little more than necessary, his imagination filling in the blanks and deciding that the seventh year Gryffindors were obviously whispering horrible things about him and even worse, about his family. Someone pushed past Fred and James. Having said his goodbyes, Albus Potter was making to board the train. The other end of the carriage was closer to his family, and Scorpius focused on Albus in puzzlement, wondering why the younger Potter boy was coming the way that required him to push past himself, Apollo and Nott, when it would be easier to go the other way, towards where the porter was beginning to load the student trunks into the luggage car.

"What does he want, I wonder?" Apollo murmured. Scorpius had no idea.

"Alright, Malfoy?" Albus greeted him loudly and then, without waiting for a response, added, "Good luck with Quidditch this year, we've got a few tricks up our sleeves, you won't win the cup this time!"

It was clear to Scorpius that the other boy had said this intentionally to be heard by his brother and cousin, and Scorp was quietly startled when Albus winked at him. The mention of Quidditch though, that pulled Malfoy out of his little funk and he smirked at the elder Potter. The previous term Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup led by Scorpius as captain, while James Potter, captain for Gryffindor, had to swallow defeat with Gryffindor in last place. The elder Potter's expression grew sulky and one of his younger girl cousins nudged him teasingly but Scorpius didn't see which one it was, only seeing a flash of red hair behind Potter's shoulder. Could have been almost any of them. He made to respond to Albus but the other boy had already boarded the train, apparently not intending to wait around for conversation. Apollo watched this exchange with a heavy-lidded gaze, like a lizard baking in the sun and eyeing up potential prey that was interesting enough to keep an eye on but too far away to expend any effort in catching.

"Made a new friend over the summer?" He asked in a low voice which brimmed over with the barest hint of curiosity.

"Hardly." Scorpius responded, and was about to say more when they were interrupted by the presence of Nera Zabini at his shoulder wanting his attention. Scorpius turned around only to be swamped by a hug.

"Mother said you were coming on your own and that Aunt Astoria was upset that you didn't want her to see you off." Nera reported, linking her arm with his and giving him a nudge. She fixed him with a look, made more intense by the glasses she wore. Nera's voice encouraging an explanation. Scorpius simply shrugged and resolutely turned away from the Weasleys to focus more completely on Nera.

"I felt like it." He said, trying for nonchalance, wondering if he'd set a precedence for himself and would have to come on his own next year too.

Nott and the other boys seemed impressed but Nera looked skeptical. She wasn't one inclined toward unnecessary adventures, a behaviour which she categorised as 'too Gryffindor', but she miraculously refrained from any sort of accusation of that variety.

"Well you better get on the Express before my mother comes over to give you a proper send off."

Scorpius looked around, a bit worried at that. It was a very real threat since Daphne Zabini, his mother's older sister, did tend to be quite affectionate and would probably embarrass him on purpose just to spite him so she could laugh about it later. His Aunt was nearby talking with her eldest daughter, this year's head girl Acantha Zabini, who was playing up the affectionate farewell to the best of her abilities and drawing quite a bit of attention for her efforts. Scorpius would say hello to his older cousin once they were all safely on the train. He nodded at Nera. She was right.

"We should claim our seats." She suggested and dragged Scorpius along, the other boys following behind like a small procession.

1.2 Leaving the Station

“James has his prat badge on today.” Rose Weasley tapped a staccato beat against the step of the train car with her heel as her gaze raked the crowd on the platform. A million and a half Weasleys and Potters in one place, all crying out greetings over the heads of the youngest children, shouting about misplaced belongings, kissing and hugging each other, and generally keeping anyone else from having a moment of peace. It was kind of wonderful. It was mostly overwhelming.

And it was no wonder her cousin had taken pity on the Slytherins caught in the middle of all that ginger madness. Said cousin was hanging from the railing by his elbow and ostensibly waving at his mother and father, although Rose was certain he was actually scouting out the girls in their year as they returned from two months apart. It was a game he generously pretended not to play around her, but Rose knew Albus and Dane Pitney and Petey Sumner would confer in the common room later to debate who had become ‘quite pretty’ over the summer.

“I always say you,” Al had informed her in imploring tones when she’d caught him at it last year. “I always say you first.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Her voice rose, and Rose hid her blush in a waterfall of red curls. It was demeaning and soul-destroying to have her own cousin be the one presenting her up for their foul masculine game. Rose and Albus didn’t talk about it any more after that.

Although Al gave no appearance of paying attention to her, after a long moment of dangling in space, he righted himself and gave her a lopsided grin. His green eyes sparkled beneath a fall of dark hair. “Prat hat. I think it should be a prat hat. Makes more sense.”

“How does a hat make more sense than a badge?” Rose was pushed aside by a jumble of third years comparing notes on their summer break before she pressed back to the ledge and waved one last time at her parents. Her father waved his car keys at her with a grin, a sure promise he was going to do something horrible and illegal on the way home, and her mother ignored him as she laughed over something with Uncle Harry.

“Rhymes, doesn’t it? He isn’t really wearing a badge.”

“He isn’t wearing a hat either.” There was a lurch from the front of the train indicating they would soon be underway, and the two sixth year Gryffindors made their way to the car Rose had scouted out for them ages ago when she’d arrived. “We're over-thinking this. If you have to explain a joke, it isn't funny, is it?”

“It’s just that I like how you try.” Albus stretched out on one long seat, forcing Rose to take up the one across from him. With their trunks stowed and a bevy of parents overseeing all the youngest children making it onto the train, Rose had a few quiet minutes to gather herself before duty called her away. It hadn't always been like this; before last year and the welcome addition of prefect responsibilities, Rose had quite enjoyed the ride on the Hogwarts Express. It was a slow slide into the school year after those months at home; first with the goodbyes that lasted just a bit too long and made her glad to see King's Cross and London disappear behind them, then with the excited renewing of school-year acquaintances and the reappearance of friends with much more exciting summer holidays, and finally, as darkness crept up on the train in measured steps, they disembarked at Hogwarts. To Rose's mind, the pacing was perfect, so that as soon as she stepped off the train, she felt like she was exactly where she belonged.

Until last year, when she'd spent the first few hours of the ride in the prefect car. It had been so thrilling to be in there with the students she respected most in the school, and her own cousins as Head Boy and Head Girl. Reality was uglier: Louis spent the entire time weaving a carefully crafted web of seduction around Nera Zabini, the fifth year Slytherin prefect, and hadn't seemed remotely put out that she didn't fall into it. Molly handed each of them a thick roll of parchment with her personal Guide to Being a Prefect and then led them through it point by tedious point. And Fred kept belching Rose's name into her ear, perhaps under the misapprehension that she hadn't heard him the first dozen times.

Sometimes, her family could be very upsetting.

And all of that was before she had discovered the unhappy truth that her fellow Gryffindor prefect happened to be the most unbearable person she'd ever known. How it had taken Rose more than three years to realize this fact was beyond her normally excellent skills at logic and reasoning, but the fact remained: Yates Shacklebolt, son of the Minister of Magic and possibly the most well-liked boy in their year, was actually unbearable. Tall, handsome, well-spoken, excellent grades, athletic... it was as if some cruel god had placed him right in Rose's path with the express purpose of crushing her dreams.

"What are you so busy being miserable about over there?" Al began before getting distracted by someone out their carriage. He inched down the bench and kicked at the door with both of his untied shoes. "Oy! Jayne! JAYNE!"

Thump. Thump. THUD. The door flew open outward, and Al's left sneaker followed.

Jayne Wood, resident Gryffindor Quidditch fiend and usual third leg to their weird little triumvirate, appeared moments later, tossing the shoe into Al's lap and seating herself beside Rose on the opposite bench. Her stubby ponytail was coming loose already, and Jayne shoved handfuls of hair out of her face as she fished copies of Quidditch Quarterly from her bag, much to Al's delight. Jayne's father Oliver had once played Quidditch professionally, and although he was well out of that career by the time Jayne was old enough to learn the rules of the game, his second career as a Quidditch commentator and his own obsession with the game had created something of a mini Quidditch monster in his daughter.

"So. What's new?" Jayne thoughtfully provided Rose with a photo spread of the greatest female players in the history of the game, which was quite interesting.

"James is a prat?"

"Shocker." As a player on the Gryffindor team, along with Al, Jayne was long accustomed to the personal foibles of James Potter. Rose could relate; being a Potter and playing Quidditch left huge shoes to fill. Much like being a Wood and playing Quidditch. Much like being a Granger-Weasley and being a prefect. It was a wonder they weren't all in therapy. "Anything else?"

"I have to go to the prefect car soon."

Jayne made a little noise of understanding, a commiseration of sorts, although Rose was sure the girl didn't know the very real agony she was about to face. Fred Weasley was Head Boy. The world as they knew it was likely to end. She was about to comment when Al held up his shoe.

"Why's there blood on here?"

"Oh." Jayne shrugged a shoulder. "I think you broke Gemma Ackerly's nose."

Rose nearly leapt from her seat with a cry of dismay. "Merlin. Why didn't you say something sooner?" Bloodshed and mayhem? Duty called.

I am…speechless. After so long with you guys talking about this…you finally posted it!!! I am SCREAMING (not literally).

A couple things I LOVE:
-Scorpius being a lil bit of an angsty 16 year old (something I know too well)
-Vincent Nott … you guys are GENIUS!!!!
-I'm picking up on slight Albus/Scorpius vibes…just saying.

To quote fanfic commenters of old: PAMS!!!!!!!!

So excited about this!! Love it!

I love this <3

This is awesome guys. I'm loving it so far!

First things first, you guys write so good. T__T

I loved reading this, I really really did. And I can't wait for more.

PAMS!

1.3 The Slytherin Carriage
Once they had boarded the train Nera went on ahead, leading the boys to the middle cars. They'd given up snagging a private car back in third year, generally preferring to take over one of the larger shared spaces. At first it had just been Scorpius, Nera, Apollo and Takeshi Haneda, but soon enough the majority of their Slytherin year mates, and a few others in the years directly above and below, had migrated to the centre of the train too. It was a definite snakes nest now; it didn't take long for younger students from other houses to get uncomfortable and move up the train to look for somewhere a little bit less intimidating. There were definitely more than a few brutish types currently residing in Slytherin after all and besides which, it did get rowdy so anyone looking for a quiet moment before arriving at Hogwarts was entirely out of luck. Scorpius preferred the social side of it all, especially after a summer spent with just his family. It was Nera's job to flush people out of their chosen seats and as usual she managed it with a few words and an acidic flick of her fingers. Nera wasn't intimidating to look at, she appeared to be the bookish type. Liam Pucey had once referred to her as the 'sexy librarian snake' and gotten himself thoroughly hexed for his troubles. Nera did not exude anything resembling a threat unless she spoke and even then only when she wanted to. While she wasn't particularly physical, she was no slouch with a wand, partly because she had no compunctions about being ruthless, and had her own agenda and set of ethics to go along with that. Underestimating her was most unwise but someone inevitably did and the results always amused Scorpius to no end.

Scorpius took his usual seat right in the middle of the long compartment, his back against the window and his legs across a seat wide enough to comfortably seat two. From there he could see the entire car and nobody could sneak up on him. The back of his seat and the one in front of him served as armrests and he relaxed by slow degrees, enjoying the sense of familiarity that came with going back to Hogwarts coupled with a sense of pride over his achievements the previous year. He could bask in the glory of having led the Slytherin team to an admittedly spectacular Quidditch victory in his first year as captain. Even now, just thinking about it made Scorpius smile. It wasn't the stereotypical smug smile of a victorious snake, rather it was the genuine smile of a boy recalling how proud his father had been of him. His grandfather had been proud too, though Lucius Malfoy had been much less vocal about it, and had simply made a deposit in Scorp's account at Gringotts. His mother had fussed of course but she did that no matter what. Astoria Malfoy was very loving and always proud of him, so it was nice to have actually done something that gave her reason to be proud instead of just that whole motherly thing of loving your children just for existing.

To get his father to be proud enough to brag about him and arrange a special father-son celebration was something out of the ordinary, and Scorp suspected it might even be Patronus worthy since the passing thought alone made him warm and happy. They'd gone to see the Quidditch World Cup final in Japan during the summer and Scorpius had been lucky enough to see the English victory over the Peruvian team, a glorious repeat of the clash during the 2002 World Cup, which his father had reminisced over with boyish enthusiasm. To Scorp it seemed like all the adult witches and wizards knew where they were and what they had been doing during the 2002 victory. It had been the first World Cup since the Second Wizarding War, and England had throttled the Peruvian host team. It had been a narrower victory over Peru this year, but Scorpius had found it all the more exciting because of it and he and his father had both gone half mad with the excitement of it. Joyous Malfoys weren't a common sight, but Scorpius was pretty sure he'd even seen his father hug a Muggleborn in the heat of the moment. That's how amazing it was to have been there.

Nera was carrying on a conversation with Nott, and Scorpius looked up at the arrival of Takeshi. He'd seen last seen the Japanese boy at the World Cup, since the Hanedas had gone along too and shared a box with the Malfoys. After Japan had been knocked out of the competition by Peru, Takeshi had been cheering for England just as loudly as Scorpius and Draco. More reserved by nature than Scorpius, as Slytherin's Keeper Takeshi clearly held the same pride in the Slytherin cup win as Scorp did, and the English victory in the World Cup was just icing on the cauldron cake. By contrast, Apollo thought Quidditch was a waste of time except as a tool for controlling the masses, something for which he'd gravely thanked Scorpius's 'contribution to the cause'. He'd come along and watch, just to support those of his friends that did play, but Apollo Burke had never shown any interest in playing for himself. He could barely fly a broom but maintained that was because he didn't want to rather than because he wasn't capable.

"Greetings, Malfoy." Takeshi sat down in the seat across from Scorp, and Apollo, who returned at that moment after taking a detour to the food trolley to get some snacks, clambered over Takeshi to claim the window seat. Scorpius tried not to laugh at the uncharacteristic scowl Takeshi directed at the prefect..

"Do you not have a meeting to get to?" Takeshi addressed Apollo in a tone that would have been acidic coming from any other Slytherin, but from Takeshi was excruciatingly and measuredly polite.

Someone tossed a chocolate frog which arced over Scorp's head. Peripherally he saw Nera catch it and wave it at whoever had thrown it but he was more interested in Takeshi and Apollo's antics.

"I don't have to go yet. A minute more. Nera will probably want to go soon though." Apollo answered, and bit into a cauldron cake. That hadn't been Takeshi's point and Apollo knew it. He grinned at the other boy. "You could of course choose to stand up when I decide its time to leave."

"You mean when I decide." Nera corrected, leaning over Vincent and discarding the chocolate frog wrapper in his lap. "We'll move when the train does." She extracted the chocolate frog, eyed the famous witch and wizard card in distaste and then frisbeed it over at Takeshi. Scorp knew it was probably meant to be a consolation, since the Japanese boy collected them religiously, but to a casual observer it would appear almost violent. Takeshi caught it neatly and turned it over to take a look.

"Ron Weasley."

In a move that appeared practiced, Apollo obligingly stretched up to open the window even as Takeshi stood up and spun the card neatly through the gap. Both boys and several other Slytherins on that side of the train laughed when the five pointed card hit a younger student in the eye and Scorpius, who had leaned forward enough that he could just glimpse what had happened exchanged a smile with Nera, who rolled her eyes and bit the head off her chocolate frog.

"You know," Apollo observed as they sat down again, "I think that kid's name is actually Patch, and now he's gonna need one." Poor kid. Scorpius watched out the window from across the aisle as one of the Hufflepuff prefects rushed to the boy's aid.

"Hey Scorpius." A dulcet voice came from the seat behind him and the blond turned his head warily, Patch forgotten.

"Hi, Madeleine." He addressed the fifth year and took immediate note of the shiny new prefect badge she sported on her uniform. He also took note that she'd grown her hair longer and styled it in attractive waves, a style that was remarkably similar to that which this year's head girl wore as a trademark though Madeleine's hair was the same yellow as straw and not the dark glossy looks which Acantha sported. Still Scorpius took note that Madeleine had gotten a bit pretty over the summer. She was currently smiling at him with a noticeable sort of intensity, a smile which widened when he'd answered.

"How was your summer?" Madeleine asked. She leaned against the back of his seat, her arms folded and very carefully just touching Scorp's own arm. She was doing rather well at pretending like she hadn't noticed, he reflected.

"Great, went to the World Cup got to see the final." Scorpius answered, and at that, Takeshi leaned across the aisle for a high five, which Scorpius obligingly returned before lounging back against the window again.

"Oh I didn't go. I only follow Quidditch when you are playing, Scorpius." She said, all fluttering eyelashes and heaving breath. She pressed her arm against his with more insistance, being sure that the prefect badge on her chest was still visible. His friends were sniggering. Scorp didn't need to turn his head to know that one snort had come from Nott or that Apollo was probably doing a simpering physical reinactment of the dialogue Scorp and Madeleine were exchanging right about now.

"Well I'll be playing this year so I expect you to keep track of my stats." He was kidding but he said it with complete sincerity of both expression and voice. He certainly wasn't prepared for the response.

"Oh I do. You scored fourteen times with six assists last year, and in each game you scored within sixty seconds of gaining possession of the quaffle. Its so impressive Scorpius, especially that time when the bludger hit you and you scored anyway." Madeleine was all avid eyes and gushing speech and while she was pretty, Scorpius decided he liked her better when she wasn't talking. "I always cheer for you." She added. He was more worried about the fact that someone who didn't play could sum him up so easily. If she had made the observation that he was quick to score, chances were that someone else had too.

"For the Slytherin team you mean." Scorpius eased his arm off the back of the seat, reclaiming it for himself and tried to look nonchalant but he was distinctly aware of the gagging noises coming from Nera and the mockery his friends were exhibiting in general. It was always funnier, he reflected, when it was someone else. He disliked having an audience.

"Oh yes. For them too." Madeleine shot a dismissive look at the nearest Quidditch players and returned her focus to Scorpius.

"So. Prefect." He tried to change the subject, aware that she clearly wanted him to notice the prefect badge anyway and the sooner he did so, the sooner the conversation would be done. "Congratulations."

"Oh I know right? Its so fantastic. I'm so pleased." And now the girl was gushing over herself. Nera's gagging grew more pointed and finally Madeleine deigned to take notice, doing so with a glare that actually went further in her obvious quest to impress Scorpius than all the flirting had. It took a lot of guts to face down a Zabini, he knew. Probably that was part of why she actually did get prefect this year. Who was her co-prefect? He wondered this idly but had no interest in voicing the inquiry. He'd find out at some point.

The train lurched and began to move.

Takeshi eyed Apollo and stood up, gesturing imperiously for the prefect to get a move on. Apparently he didn't much like being climbed all over. Who knew? Nera managed to control herself and stood up too.

"See you later Scorpius." She smiled at him and ignored Madeleine. The sixth year turned on her heel and marched towards the prefect compartment. Apollo wasn't far behind, still eating his cauldron cake. Montague and Urquhart followed too. Ah. Scorp nodded to himself. Urquhart. There you go. The other new prefect, obviously.

"You better go." He told Madeleine, giving her an encouraging smile. He could flirt a little too, it wouldn't hurt anyone. She did stand up and made quite the show of it before giving him an entirely unnecessary wave goodbye.

"I'll see you later, Scorpius." Her words echoed Nera's but her tone was loaded with innuendo. He absently noted Madeleine's very short skirt as she left the carriage and wondered idly how long it would be until their head of house, Professor Atra, would call her up on it. With the train moving and half their group gone, Scorpius took out a book and began to read, losing himself in the pages and ignoring the general hubbub in the carriage. As long as he was pointedly reading, nobody would disturb him for the duration of the journey.

*chanting* scorBUS scorBUS scorBUS.

Honestly, I am so impressed by the fluidity of your language and diction. It's lovely, Tegategz.

Poor Nera. She's doing her BEST, Scorpius.

lol jk I love this and I'm so glad you guys are finally posting.

SPOILER!!: Comments

Quote:

Originally Posted by Casey O

*chanting* scorBUS scorBUS scorBUS.

Honestly, I am so impressed by the fluidity of your language and diction. It's lovely, Tegategz.

I feel weird commenting on Tegan's comments but I BET SHE SAYS THANK YOU. Also... I guess keep your fingers crossed for your ship? Yes?

Quote:

Originally Posted by pundantic

Poor Nera. She's doing her BEST, Scorpius.

lol jk I love this and I'm so glad you guys are finally posting.

Nera is my faveeeeee, so keep your eye on her. And I love you and I'm glad you're reading <3.

1.4 The Prefect Compartment

Gemma's nose wasn't broken, although the little Ravenclaw required a chocolate frog, reassurance that her slightly swollen nose wasn't hideously disfiguring, and a hug. Rose was good with all of it except for the hug, mostly because she wasn't willing to get blood on her school robes minutes before seeing Yates and the other prefects. And because anyone who was more concerned about whether she was still pretty than over a possible deviated septum really didn't deserve any hugs. In an inspired move, Rose encouraged the line waiting for the food trolley to hug Gemma en masse, and she escaped toward the front of the train.

Because they had only recently departed from King's Cross, the corridor was still crowded with students swapping compartments and looking for the perfect seat for the journey to Hogwarts. Most students didn't have the foresight to mark out a car well ahead of time, or else they didn't have a mother who checked traffic patterns and planned multiple contingency routes to the train station. Rose was both a planner and the daughter of a planner. And really, the granddaughter of a planner. She was doomed to checklists and flowcharts from birth, it seemed. There was comfort in order, in spite of those git-faced people who insisted stupid things like 'routine is the last refuge of the unimaginative mind.'

She was imaginative. One had to be when one wrote three versions of the same potions essay.

The student numbers thinned out as Rose reached the middle of the train, and it wasn't hard to see why. Slytherins. Everywhere. For reasons known only to them, they enjoyed sitting together as a form of mass intimidation. It was a fortunate thing that the trolley lady traveled the length of the train with her wares, because most non-Slytherins wouldn't be able to brave this nest of vipers just for a pumpkin pasty. Nest of vipers. Rose raised her head, shaking back her tidy auburn curls and chortling inwardly at her own punniness as she stepped carefully over extended legs and bags tossed into the aisle. She was a Gryffindor, and a Weasley, and certainly had what it took to make it past a snake or thirty. Not quite brave enough to inform the older Slytherins that they were creating a fire hazard by blocking the aisle, perhaps, but she did manage a prim 'pardon me' when she stepped over Rigel Cadwallader's feet and nearly fell into someone's lap. Her eyes didn't shift from center until she cleared the car.

Can’t ignore any rule violations if they go unnoticed, after all, and sometimes discretion really was the better part of valor.

She hadn't needed to look around to realize something important, though. None of the Slytherin prefects were present, which meant they were already on their way to the prefect car. Waiting for her. As soon as the door slammed behind her, Rose broke into a most unladylike jog. The few remaining students who hadn't managed to find a seat dodged out of her way, and Rose actually cleared a trunk left in the corridor by several inches. She tossed a hurried, "Get that trunk out of the corridor before someone falls," over her shoulder, but she didn't bother waiting to see if her directions were followed.

"Late, Weasley." Against her own better judgement, Rose's head jerked up at the cool drawl from the Head Girl, and she fish-faced for a moment. What was that Muggle sporting expression her mother used? Strike one. So much for starting off the school year on a high note with the highly intimidating Acantha Zabini. Her expression was almost lazy, but there was a coiled energy in Zabini's posture as she leaned against the windows. The girl gestured Rose into a seat with the barest flick of her fingers.

Rose lifted her chin, but she obediently strode to the bench and squished in next to Adlai Thomas. "I'm not actually late. Fred isn't even here yet." The lazy expression disappeared from Acantha's eyes, but Rose continued to stuff words into the silence in hopes that finding the right ones. She wasn't intimidated by the scary Snake. "Plus, I got distracted on the way. Gemma Ackerly may have broken her nose. And there was blood everywhere. All over. She was... really upset..."

The low chatting around her continued unabated, a clear indication that no one was moved by her story. Or perhaps that they refused to show undue interest and be perceived as taking sides against their Head Girl. Acantha's gaze swept back to the door and the lazy look reappeared. Rose, realizing she was not the intended prey, gave a sigh of relief and sank back into her seat. Fred was in hot water.

"You fixed her up, though? Gemma?" Gracie Egerton, Ravenclaw prefect and Gemma's classmate, asked under her breath as she leaned around Adlai to see Rose more easily. A single blond curl fell into her eyes, and Gracie pushed it impatiently out of her face. "She's a bit..."

"Hysterical?" Rose guessed, dropping her own voice to match Gracie's. Adlai leaned in as well, completing the tiny circle of conspiracy right there in the prefect car. "She's fine. I doubt anything is broken, plus she got to be the center of attention since she was hit right in front of the trolley. She might view it as a positive experience. The Girl Who Bled From Her Face."

Adlai snorted and Gracie sighed, and all three of them earned a flicker of attention from Acantha. It shut down Gracie right away, but Adlai was made of sterner qualities. "Did you see Fred out there? I'd lay money on the fact that he's doing this just to drive her 'round the bend. He'll manage to waltz in here seconds before she melts down. Nothing she can do about it, either."

"She won't melt. If this is a power thing..." Rose screwed up her nose. Of all the crazy things that were true about her cousin, he wasn't really an idiot, no matter how he played it. Vying for power with a Slytherin, especially Acantha Zabini, was like debating politics with a jarvey. Pointless. "He's just playing. Messing with her. Seeing how far he can push her."

"Before she has him put down?" Gracie gulped, clearly taken in by any one of the stories that passed by word of mouth about the family of their Head Girl. "I heard..."

"She isn't..." Rose began, but they all went silent as Fred finally graced them with his presence. He was all cheerful grin and cocky swagger, letting the door slam shut behind him as he entered the carriage. If he was sorry for being late, he didn't look it. In fact, he simply looked amused to find them all watching him, some with open disdain and more with genuine worry. It felt as if there wasn't quite enough air for all of them to share, and Rose took a gulping breath.

"Acantha, pet. You look tense." The collective inhalation acted as punctuation, and Fred somehow interpreted that as approval. In truth, Rose definitely did not approve. He was late. He wasn't sorry. And he called Acantha Zabini PET. Like she was a little crup puppy or something. If he tousled her hair, someone was likely to lose a hand, and Rose had no confidence that Fred had the skills to stop it from happening.

"Fred. Meeting?" Rose raised a finger to get his attention. Nothing yet from Acantha, but Rose suspected the girl was working hard to keep from ripping Fred in half or letting her head spin fully around on her neck. Perhaps if they could somehow stumble their way into the actual prefecting part of all this pain, some of them would be lucky enough to escape the inevitable bloodbath with their lives intact. Probably not all of them, but the ones closest to the door.

Acantha shoved off the window and stalked across the carriage on graceful cat feet, which Fred took as invitation to begin talking again. "So first thing, that whole big list that Molly handed out last year. Do you lot still have that?" A few prefects, including Rose, pulled the thick roll of parchment from their robes. Across the carriage, Yates waved his high above his head, but Rose was more hesitant. Something bad was going to happen.

Fred snatched the roll from Yates' hands and tried unsuccessfully to tear it in two, although the sheer bulk of Molly Weasley's treatise on prefecting kept him from doing more than severely mangling it. Grunting in effort, Fred tugged out his wand and lit the roll on fire before handing the small blaze back to Yates. "Yeah. It's all rubbish. Toss it out."

Rose slipped her parchment back into her robes. Boring and long-winded as Molly may have been, her instructions on how to do the job were invaluable. And Fred was a prat.

"Weasley..." Miraculously, Acantha's voice didn't drip with rancor, although there was something dangerous in her stillness. Didn't panthers freeze up like that just before they took down their prey? Fred raised an eyebrow at her, and everyone else in the carriage seemed caught up in this weird drama.

Everyone but Rose, who wondered why no one else seemed to care that Yates Shacklebolt was pretty much on FIRE. The boy stared at the flaming bits of parchment flaking to the floor around his highly polished shoes, and at the last moment, Yates dropped the whole flaming bundle and stomped out the fire himself. His expression was clear; he wondered how that had just happened to him of all people. He'd been set on fire by the Head Boy, and no one had noticed or cared.

Was anyone else having an amazingly good time?

"Hey, Fred?" Yates kicked the smoldering bits to the center of the car as he scooted forward in his seat. Tired of being ignored, Shacklebolt was back in the spotlight. Tiresome of him. "I don't know if it helps, but I took the liberty of sketching out some suggestions for patrol schedules. There's a brief clarification of the curfew rules and expectations on the top. You're welcome to it if you'd like. I thought I'd just put it together as practice." The 'for next year' bit was unstated and unnecessary, as was the grin that spread across Yates' face, very broad and very white and very annoying.

"Yeah? Brilliant. Get a copy to everyone here. And... meeting adjourned. Get out of here." He aimed a low kick at the Hufflepuff nearest the door, and the prefects scattered.

"WEASLEY." Acantha's voice rose sharply, and Rose ran with all the rest. Live to fight another day.

This thread is MAGICAL.

"She was imaginative. One had to be when one wrote three versions of the same potions essay." POOR ROSE. ;__; And her laughing at her own "nest of vipers" pun. ROSE PLS.

Ugh ugh UGH. I love Fred. Way too much. A+ FOR HIM. MY FAVE.

Keep it comin', babes. Can't wait for more to come.

1. Nera Zabini is the best
2. Madeleine...if I knew her in high school I probably would have given her an unflattering nickname (that I only thought to myself then immediately regretted thinking about it...you know because unicorn & butterfly filled brain over here)
3. Fred & Acantha
4. Rose is amazing
5. Socorpius is great...I love how subtle his wit is most of the time

*ships ALL the Slytherins together*

*not all at once but like....already has secret ships*

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love this whole fanfic Both of you write amazingly and i'm so jealous. Rose is a little nerd but at the same time I want to be her best friend because like, she's a mini Hermione but doesn't rub you the wrong way that Hermione does sometimes?

I can't wait to read more about the Weasley/Potter family dynamic and even more about how Scorpius and his place in the school.

OH I also love how everyone actively dislikes James

2.1 The Welcoming Feast

Acantha Zabini was livid. Scorpius had only needed the slightest glance at his cousin to figure that out. As the sorting continued and some of his house mates placed their bets on which scared little first years would end up where, Scorpius kept one ear out but there were no explosions; Acantha just sat there and simmered quietly. Perhaps she didn't want to scare any of the newly sorted Slytherin first years?

There were no hatstalls this term either, Scorp noted. Sorting time still gave him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach and he was happy when all the new students were safely ensconced at their new tables and the feast itself began. Apollo and Nera were carrying on a discussion in low voices, Scorp couldn't make out what they were saying but then he was busy with his own thoughts.

A Quidditch discussion broke out nearby and he heard his name and excited discussion from some of the younger students. Who would make the team this year? Slytherin would win again, right? And just when were try-outs going to be anyway? Scorpius sighed to himself and buttered a roll. Really? He'd been here all of an hour and people wanted a schedule? He looked up, his grey eyes meeting the bright blue of Eurydice Hightower. The fourth year had been the youngest that made the team the previous year and she was a very talented chaser. He had no doubts that she'd make the team again if she decided to try out. She had a mocking smile on her face, clearly reacting to the excited Quidditch discussion loud enough to carry from half way down the table. Leaning over the table pointedly, she spoke loud enough to be heard by most everyone, actually asking Scorp rather than just speculating on it.

"So when's try-outs then?" She eyed him expectantly. She'd just been another skinny little girl the previous school year, but summer had been quite good to her. He hadn't noticed until now; it was sometimes easier to notice the girls that weren't in his own year or house, since he wasn't confronted with them nearly as often and any changes tended to be more remarkable by default. The beginning of the school year would soon have Scorpius and his dormmates assessing everyone anew, and the opening feast was the perfect time to look around in preparation for comparing notes with the other boys later, at least once he was done eating.

"Next week." He answered in a drawl. Obviously that was the usual time for try-outs to open. "I'm not sure which day yet, that depends on the other teams." Scorpius preferred to watch the other try-outs. The previous year, James Potter had tried to make the Gryffindor try-outs closed just to spite him but Madame Hooch hadn't stood for it and had allowed anyone to attend as long as they would stay quiet and behave in the stands. Of course he had behaved; he was there to scope out the competition, not to interfere with the try-outs themselves. Scorp shot a cursory glance down the table where most of the younger students were congregated. "I'll put a notice up tomorrow." He said with a note of finality, returning his attention to the food.

"We need at least four new players, don't we? Assuming everyone who played last year gets a spot." Eurydice wasn't done talking apparently and Scorpius bit into his buttered roll rather than answer. He was hungry.

Takeshi, who was sitting next to him, saved Scorpius from needing to respond. "Five, counting reserves. Flint is not allowed to play this year. His father has forbidden it until he betters his grades." The Japanese boy was loading up his plate as he spoke. He was always one to have a prodigious appetite and yet always ate with the most precise and impressive of table manners. Scorpius had never seen his dormmate with even a speck of food on his robes. He played Quidditch with the same precision. A good thing too since a keeper could not afford to be sloppy. As for Flint, he had played chaser the previous term, and played well. It would be a shame not to have him. Scorpius made a mental note as the chatter continued around him to see if Liam Pucey would try out for the position. Pucey had been a reserve the previous year, only playing in one game as a substitute, but he'd been a good fit on the field with himself and Hightower and they had all practiced together enough that it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to put Pucey in to start. He chewed on his roll and poured himself a pumpkin juice. Quidditch was like a giant Wizard's chessboard to him and he was picturing the playing pieces and how they moved together to form a strong and united front. You couldn't play chess without a few pawns in the right place. He finished his mouthful and considered the shiniest chess piece of them all.

"We need a new seeker." That started an explosive reaction of whispers. Seeker was the position that everyone seemed to think of as the star of the show. Scorpius knew better. Ravenclaw would need a new seeker too, Scorp kept track of the other teams like it was his religion. It kind of was. When he thought about it, Hightower wouldn't be half bad in as seeker. Takeshi, who subbed in as seeker when necessary could obviously play the position too, but he was more valuable as a keeper.

"You could do it." Eurydice suggested, eyeing him over the top of her goblet as she sipped her own pumpkin juice.

He probably could, Scorpius reflected, answering only with a casually dismissive shrug, but it wasn't like it was a particular talent of his and he wouldn't put himself in as seeker in an attempt to get all the glory or something of that nature. He didn't have a trumped up idea of his abilities, unlike some people he could name. His eyes trailed over the Gryffindor table. Weasley. Weasley. Weasley. Potter. Yeah, James Potter was, in Scorp's eyes, a perfect example of that.

"I can keep a closer eye on you lot as a chaser." Scorpius said, rather than badmouthing the seventh year Quidditch captain. He didn't need to say anything about Potter out loud, his antipathy was no secret. "Besides," He added, a half-way grin curving his lips, "I'm a crack shot."

Alright, so a little bit of glory didn't hurt.

"Prove it." Apollo leaned over with a grin, his expression daring. He reached out across Nera and indicated Scorp's half-eaten buttered roll.

Scorpius couldn't help his own answering grin. He hefted the roll, stood up and took aim, the bread spun through the air and, in the kind of perfect moment that would set Scorpius to happily reminiscing in future years, beaned James Potter right in the forehead. A cheer went up from the Slytherins and Scorpius essayed a modest bow before sitting down again. It was even worth attracting Professor Atra's attention. The Slytherin Head of House was suddenly right there, and just in time to stop Gryffindor needing to retaliate by providing a punishment before a food fight could ensue.

"Detention, Malfoy." That was all that was said before the man ghosted off again. While he wasn't actually a ghost, he bloody well moved like one and sometimes when Scorpius was younger he had wondered if under his floor length robes the professor sported wheels rather than legs and actually got around by rolling here and there instead of walking like a normal person. While it would have explained the smoothness of gait, this theory did nothing to illuminate why and how Atra seemed able to practically appear out of nowhere, usually at the most inopportune of moments. The students had, collectively, straightened up and gone quiet in an attempt to be respectful and not catch the man's attention. Best not to make eye contact.

Detention wasn't so bad though, really. Apollo maintained that it was necessary for Scorpius to earn a certain number of them a year, both to add to his reputation and to make up for the fact that Apollo and Nera had to, in theory, be on their best behaviour at all times.

"Well at least you didn't get us in negative points." Acantha was still a simmering cauldron of acid and her voice cut through the remaining Slytherin amusement just as effectively as Professor Atra's presence had. But Scorpius didn't miss the expression she directed over at the Gryffindor table herself, more triumphant than smug. Scorp knew he'd probably hear an earful later, but it was still worth it for the point he'd proved, and for murderous looks being sent his way by Gryffindors, none of whom could do anything about it right then.

"If you'd hit Fred Weasley, she'd have congratulated you and probably erected a statue." Nera whispered, careful not to let her voice carry too far.

"If you'd hit Yates Shacklebolt, Rose Weasley would have thrown you a parade." Apollo chimed in, which made Scorpius throw a slightly curious look at the prefects in question. Oh? Was there something going on there? Apollo didn't elaborate but Nera was clearly on the same page, judging by her expression and the sharp nod in punctuation of Apollo's rejoinder. Some prefect thing, Scorpius surmised, dismissing it out of hand.

"I would throw him a parade if he hit Shacklebolt." Takeshi remarked. Probably a lot of people would. They were all watching the Gryffindors now, and wasn't it nice to have these little untouchable moments? Slytherin bonding at its finest.

"I am not following any schedule he plans out." Nera directed this at her sister. Acantha assured Nera that nobody would have to follow Shacklebolt and Scorp went ahead and stopped paying attention. When the conversation focused on Shacklebolt for too long, he tended to get bored of it. That Gryffindor, like many of them in Scorp's experience, was all flash and no substance. He didn't like him and made a mental note that he would throw the next buttered roll at his head. Change things up a bit. For now though, he had a feast to enjoy.

something tells me that I'm going to be in the "lets hit Yates Shacklebolt with buttered rolls" boat soon enough.

Scorpius x Rose slow burn is fine.............but can we have them together NOW?!

2.2 After the Feast

"Do you suppose they'll toss me out of the house if I say I'm currently a fan of Scorpius Malfoy?" Rose clung to Al's arm, dragging him along corridors and up staircases as they followed the first years being guided toward the common room for the first time. The task fell to the fifth year prefects, and Rose was merely keeping an eye out for stragglers as they walked. Albus had been drafted so she wouldn't have to walk alone, and he was, as always, perfectly willing to fall into step with whatever her plans may be.

"For pegging James with baked goods?" Al shoved his hair out of his eyes, giving Rose a waggle of one shaggy eyebrow. "Or because you appreciate his bum or something? Because I'll talk to you about the first, but I'm out on the second. We have a gentleman's agreement, Rose Weasley, that we never do any girl talk."

True, although Rose would never characterize anything she participated in as a 'gentleman's agreement'. Al had long ago drawn a firm line dividing their friendship into what was and was not acceptable conversational topics. No talking about boys. No talking about 'girl issues'. Rose found his rules acceptable, mostly because she could throw down the rules any time Al started wandering into 'disgusting boy talk' territory. No bodily functions. No talking about girls in a derogatory way. Perhaps it was the reason they were able to maintain a friendship; neither had expectations that the other was unable to fulfill. If Rose wanted to talk about her feelings, she sought out Jayne. If Al wanted to behave like a Neanderthal, he spent time with Dane or Petey.

"Because he hit James," Rose agreed. She didn't look at anyone's bum. It was demeaning. And embarrassing, especially if someone caught you doing it. "Who's been looking at Malfoy's bum? You sound like Lily."

Al scowled. Of all the things that could ruin his perpetual silver lining, his boy-crazy sister was high on the list. Far higher even than girl talk. Al had the bad luck to have a sister who had cast herself as the starring role in every romantic scenario she knew, and she moved as steadily through the vivid stories in her head as she did through the boys of Gryffindor house. It wasn't that Lily was wild or unmanageable; she was just a very determined flirt. Rose wouldn't be a bit shocked if they found, upon entering the common room, that Lily was spinning a tale of conquest and eternal bliss for her little group of addlepated followers. Now that Lily was a fourth year and very nearly through all the interesting Gryffindors, she would have to look to the rest of the school for amusement.

"You suppose James deserved it?" In spite of the fact that the brothers had personalities as different as kneazles and crups, Al still tended toward idolizing his brother on occasion. It was one of those long term terminal diseases that couldn't be cured by the most prat-like behavior.

"It's James, isn't it?" Rose, on the other hand, saw her cousins clearly. Al was her best friend, and Lily and James could be great fun, but they were also the people most able to make her crazy. "You saw him at the train station, giving Malfoy the eye. And Fred was just abysmal to Acantha Zabini on the train. If it was me, I would have buttered the roll first. Extra points if it sticks a bit before falling off."

"You're right. They're going to kick you out of Gryffindor. Just don't say anything to James about it. Please?" They'd both seen James nearly leap over the table to get at Malfoy, held in check only by the presence of Professor Atra at the Slytherin table and a calming hand from Adlai Thomas on James' arm. It was lucky Fred was last getting off the train and hadn't managed to get up to the castle in time to sit with James. With whispered encouragement in his ear from the Head Boy, James may have burned the whole place down in reckless pleasure.

The group of first years hit a landing ahead of Rose and Albus, and the children tittered at the appearance of Peeves through a suit of armor at the top of the stairs. Admittedly, his bright bow tie and jingling hat were quite the spectacle, although Rose preferred the stately dignity of Sir Nicholas, even with his head wobbling atop his prodigious ruff. Although those with older siblings or cousins cowered at the sight of the poltergeist, a few of the first years clapped as Peeves pulled himself free of the armor and did a spinning flip in the air. He came to a stop in the air above the first years, a wide grin spreading across his ugly face.

"Oh, Merlin." Rose and Albus took a few steps back, and Rose wondered what exactly fifth year prefects Cassandra Blue and Drew Kirke were waiting for - staring blankly at the poltergeist had never kept him from doing his worst as far as she knew. It was only prolonging the inevitable.

Almost on cue, water balloons appeared as if from nowhere, dropping onto the heads of the now shrieking first years and drenching them. For having a reputation as the bravest of the newly sorted students, the firsties weren't displaying much of anything but shock. Three steps above them, the prefects weren't doing much better, and the entire group just kept screaming and growing more damp. Peeves continued to cackle weakly, although even his sense of fun was hindered by the absolute slaughter occurring in the group below.

"Sweet Circe," Rose muttered, pushing past the dripping first years until she stood in the middle of the group. Al waited below, grinning hugely at the entire event. He was such a help. "It's water, you great babies. If you don't like getting wet, then keep moving, but for the love of all things red and gold, please stop screaming as if you're being murdered." She made a shooing motion at the prefects, and they scurried up the rest of the flight, turning at the top and disappearing through a tapestry. The first years had to run to keep up, but they were soon clear of the attack area. Peeves gave Rose and Albus a salute punctuated by a loud raspberry before turning a flip and disappearing through the floor. Hopefully, he was off to cause mental anguish for another group of first years, spread the horror around a bit. If they were lucky, no one other than those present would ever know about the embarrassment that had just occurred, but it was unlikely their luck would hold. By morning, the whole school would have heard about it, and she'd have to listen to jokes about 'brave ickle Gryffindors' for the rest of the week.

"What were we talking about?"

Rose started through the tapestry at the top of the stairs, although she paused to give Al a look. There was no sign of any dawdling first years in the passage ahead of them, and she was unwilling to run at this point. Let Merlin take the whole bloody group of them. "We were discussing the fact that your brother is a git and that I'm about to be kicked out of Gryffindor."

"Naw," Al waved it off. "Not after the way you just screamed at the first years."

"I didn't scream at them. I politely informed them that they had more options than standing around waiting to get wet." Rose was a bit damp herself, although most of the damage was to her hair. The water was making the curls do strange and unusual things, but without a mirror, she was resigned to enter the common room looking like a drowned poodle. Hopefully, her shirt would be mostly dry by then, as it was sticking to her body in unflattering ways. Al was generous enough not to notice.

"You informed them of their options at the top of your lungs."

"They were very noisy," Rose responded in a prim tone. They had nearly reached the common room by this point, and she patted her hair fretfully before stepping through the portrait hole. It was no use, though... it was possible she could see her own hair in her peripheral vision. Never a good sign.

Inside the common room, the calculated chaos of Gryffindor house had swung into gear. First years ignored the prefects trying to shoo them onward and gaped at the room in a way that actually brought a fond smile to Rose's face, reminding her of her first glimpse of the common room all those years ago. Near the fire, the sixth and seventh year girls had sprawled out to swap notes about the summer, and they were doing a valiant job ignoring the antics of James, Fred, and their ilk, who were playing a rules-on-the-fly version of Destroy the Common Room.

Rose wasn't about to tell them off for it, considering the Head Boy was currently clinging to the fireplace mantle by his bare knuckles and screaming, "I'm the monkey mambo mama." She really did not understand the rules to this game, although there was a good chance that no real rules existed. Some of the younger boys were trying to tag in to the game, but James and Fred would disqualify them for a new reason each time. Eyes-Too-Blue and Eyes-Not-Blue-Enough blinked at each other in dejection before making their way back to an abandoned Wizarding chess game.

A small pocket of third and fourth year girls, and even a fifth year girl, sat with Lily, who was undoubtedly regaling them with her latest conquest. Rose tried hard not to think about what their subject matter might be, but she suspected that at some time during the school year, she'd owe her cousin a firm talk about taking her studies seriously and leaving the boys alone.

One of the squashy ottomans contained Dane and Petey, and Al gave Rose an anxious look. She knew he wouldn't dare suggest that he join them, if only to avoid reopening the unresolved argument from last term, but she also knew he wanted to go. "I don't care," Rose wagged a finger at the boys, and Al scampered off in their direction like a pleased crup puppy. "Just don't bring up my name. And... and tell me if someone else does."

Eh. A moment of weakness, and Rose wasn't even sure that Al had heard her. She hoped he hadn't, although it didn't keep her from turning a bit pink at the idea that anyone in the common room had just overheard her being exceptionally vain. Who cared if any of the nitwits in her year didn't find her pretty? A girl was more than her face. And if she wasn't, then she ended up being someone like Delaney Baird who had actually managed to lose her own wand last year. It was missing for an entire day before she remembered that she'd put it under her pillow to encourage prophetic dreaming. The girl was lucky she hadn't caught her damned head on fire.

"D'you suppose the other common rooms are like this?" Jayne had acquired her own couch, and Rose didn't inquire how she'd managed it. Probably a story best left untold. She paused as Cassandra and Drew finally managed to get all the first years up the stairs toward their respective dormitories to change clothes, and then she glanced back at her friend.

"I suppose they all have their quirks, yeah. Perhaps not so loud, but if we were really out of bounds, Professor Longbottom would come shut us down." Their Head of House might appear lenient compared to someone like Atra, but the Herbology professor took his role very seriously. He'd shut down their celebration following last year's Quidditch final when someone set off red and gold rockets from every tower in the castle. Rose still wasn't sure how they'd managed Ravenclaw tower, but perhaps there were Gryffindor sympathizers in the Eagle's nest.

A cheer rippled through the rowdy mass of students when the food arrived: someone had managed to steal a collection of pastries and a whole chest of icy butterbeers from the kitchens. Rose ignored the rules being broken and let someone press a drink into her hand. It might have been Yates, but if she pretended she hadn't seen who gave it to her, she would enjoy the drink in peace and relative happiness.

"But none of them have Destroy the Common Room," Jayne finished. Was that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?

"I'm not sure we do either. Last year, the point of the game might have been to steal the quill from the other team. This year, the point is to beat the tar out of each other."

Jayne laughed and shrugged, tipping her bottle against Rose's with a satisfying click. "Well, then. Here's to us. Here's to another year at Hogwarts. Here's to... the House Cup. Here's to Quidditch."

Rose cheered as she took a long sip from the bottle. It tickled all the way to her stomach, and she sneezed. Twice. She would drink to Hogwarts and the House Cup and to Quidditch as well, but her plans for the year were bigger than earning another trophy. Rose was drinking to her mission to be Head Girl. It was going to be a big year.

BEAUTIFUL, you lovelies. As always. *mwah*

Also:


I'm making LOADS of predictions, though. Bets that Rose will date Yates to make Scorpius jealous, anyone???

The clinging to the fireplace mantle game is hilarious. Especially with the Head Boy being a part of it XD

And look at Rose being ambitious

It is awesome as always guys!

It's so wonderful, I'm in actual tears. So so so very amazing, and the language is so vivid. The way you two tell it is nothing short of beautiful.

You're so talented, Tegz and Ernie.

PAMS.

2.3 Viridis
The only reason Scorpius was currently accompanying a gaggle of tiny first years down to the dungeons was because Apollo and Nera had to, and he was going that way anyway of course. Besides, accompanying was in itself a loosely applied term. Madeleine Vaisey and Jason Urquhart led the way, with Montague a hulking presence in the midst of the newly sorted Slytherins. Scorpius and his fellow sixth years were bring up the rear, quite far behind them all. Nera explained they were supposed to make sure there weren't any stragglers, but so far none were stupid enough to get left behind. Every now and then, Madeleine looked over her shoulder at them and slowed their walking pace as Urquhart lectured the children on what it really meant to be a Slytherin. Supposedly at least. Scorp wasn't entirely sure Urquhart knew.

"She got pretty over the summer." Apollo commented, with a glance at Madeleine and then a pointed one at Scorpius, just in case Scorp hadn't noticed the looking and hadn't figured which 'she' his friend was referring to.

"Vaisey is such a joke." Nera commented, complete with eye roll. "She's so transparent. Did she keep hassling you on the train, Scorpius?"

Scorp trailed one hand against the cold stone walls as they descended the main staircase into the dungeons and grinned at Nera's sudden dislike. She got a touch protective of him sometimes and selectively seemed to want to give her stamp of approval over girls who looked Scorp's way before he was allowed to look back. But she'd been laughing about it earlier, so she was changing her tune a bit. Maybe it was because Apollo was commenting on the girl's appearance? Nera could be a bit of a feminist at times and wasn't generally approving when people focused on shallow things like looks, but she was being downright moody by her standards. He thought it might have something to do with the time of the month and knew better than to voice that suspicion around any female, let alone a Zabini one.

"For a while. It wasn't so bad." Scorpius wasn't currently seeing anyone else and a date was a surefire way to figure out if you might potentially get along with a person but he wasn't sure he wanted to take Madeleine out yet, even if he could.

"But you can relax, Nera. I don't think she's my type so you don't have to put up with her more than you do with the whole prefect bit."

"What does a girl have to do to impress you?" Apollo asked Scorpius. "Apparently rattling off your Quidditch stats and fluffing her hair at you isn't enough."

Nera just kept walking.

"I don't even know how she made prefect."

Scorpius shrugged again and Apollo laughed quietly, and Scorp didn't miss the little sideways look that his friend shot at Nera, though he wasn't sure what it meant.

"You're too picky, man. Do you know how many girls you could have? You're a Quidditch captain. Keep your galleons: status is currency!"

"I'm not that picky. You're just impressed by any pretty girl that can walk and talk."

"She doesn't have to talk."

Nera gave Apollo a distinctly unimpressed and borderline murderous glare at that and stalked ahead, muttering something about 'sexist prats' under her breath.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Apollo added in a quieter voice. "But Vaisey isn't your type, Scorpius, you're right about that."

"She isn't your type either."

"No." Apollo agreed, looking pleased with himself. Scorpius rather thought that Apollo was going to elaborate on that, when suddenly the castle's resident poltergeist sped past, cackling and singing a nonsense song about upending cauldrons over people's heads and said cauldrons permanently gluing themselves in place. Nonsense the song may have been but it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities. Right now thought, the risk was water balloons.

"Watch out!" Scorpius called out a warning and Nera half turned as if she were about to berate him for something, but instead she saw the water balloons and ducked. The newly sorted Slytherins were all wizardborn, most had heard of Peeves and those that hadn't were distrustful enough that they all scrambled madly to get out of the way. It was everyone for themselves in Slytherin house. There were squeals and curses. Montague was having none of it though and whipped his wand out, a pulsating blue and green light shot out of the tip and hit the Poltergeist who shrieked and turned tail, disappearing through the ceiling, presumably in search of easier prey. Probably Hufflepuffs, Scorpius suspected. The magic impressed the firsties more than the poltergeist had, and they chattered excitedly about that for the rest of the walk to the common room.

The password was 'Viridis', which was a nice, fitting way to begin the year, when everything was supposed to be a fresh, new start. Green should be easy enough for the first years to remember; even if they forgot which blank stretch of wall hid the Slytherin Common room, they should at least know the password for when they found it again.

Within the common room it was about as boisterous as it ever got. There were louder conversations than usual, but most of the students were simply sitting around chatting and it was sheer numbers that accounted for the noise rather than any other sort of carry on. While the fifth year prefects got the new Slytherins settled, everyone else ignored them entirely and spent their time catching up with friends they hadn't seen over the summer. Scorp picked out some of his yearmates, gathered in one of the most cushy spots in front of the fire. Liam was carrying on a fairly enthusiastic political discussion with Takeshi while Selina Evercreech and Ruby Winickus were sitting nearby whispering to one another. He went over and smooshed in between the two girls, his arms around their shoulders, making himself comfortable and earning another Nera glare from across the room. Best to ignore whatever was getting her all worked up for now. He had catching up to do.

"So how was everyone's summer?"

Have I ever told you that I love Scorpius' chill?

I do.

Well done, guys, I am so proud to know you wonderful authors.

3.1 Potions Class

Rose was nearly late to class. She’d never been nearly late before, let alone late; Rose preferred showing up early to guarantee the best seat in each classroom. For Potions, she liked a seat near the front within easy access of the ingredients cupboard. Halfway to the classroom, however, she'd stopped to help a first year with a nasty spellburn find the infirmary, and, even though she'd run the rest of the way, Rose now found herself the next to last to arrive.

"Rosie." Of course, Yates had chosen the best seat in the entire room, the very one Rose would have chosen for herself. And of course, it was next to one of the two empty chairs. Yates gestured to the seat, inviting her to sit beside him. He must have been a glutton for punishment with a side penchant for mental anguish, or else he'd been blind to her signals for the past few years. There was no way in Hades she would subject herself to his company voluntarily. Especially not when he draped an arm casually across the empty stool as if her bum was already planted there. It made the hair on her arms stand up. Gross. Totally gross. Groping ghost butt.

The other empty seat was less ideal in location, and the lab partner was Malfoy, but there wasn't even a contest. Rose marched past Yates with a little shake to the tidy knot holding her copper curls, head up and chin set stubbornly. Without a glance for anyone's reaction, she slid onto the stool beside Malfoy.

"Scorpius." His name felt strange in her mouth, and Rose wondered if she'd ever called him something other than 'Malfoy' even in her own head. It was a bit intimate considering their lack of existing acquaintanceship, but she had already taken the first few dangerous steps down this road. It was too late to turn back now. She could feel Yates staring at the back of her head, at her upswept hair, a style Rose favored because it kept her from looking like a child, although now she wished she had her hair to use as a barrier against all the eyes in the room that were turning in her direction. "I hope you don't mind having me as your partner today. It was the only available seat."

Not precisely true, but she dared him to contradict the claim and send her back to Yates. It was a gamble that Malfoy disliked Yates more than a Weasley, but it was one Rose was willing to take.

Malfoy drew it out, lingering over the sentences in his textbook just long enough to send a mild jolt through Rose. Was she late enough that they'd already been given class work? Her eyes flicked to the front of the room, where Professor Sato had posted an introduction to the lesson: 'Which potions require the use of honeywater as a primary ingredient?' She itched to dive headfirst into her textbook to research the question, in spite of the fact that she still didn't have even a nod from Malfoy that she could stay. If the professor entered the room in the next few seconds and she hadn't had an opportunity to prepare herself...

At last, Malfoy came to a stopping point in the text, and he raised one of his pale eyebrows in her direction. "Why, that's because I saved this seat for you, Rosie." The nickname made her nose wrinkle in disgust, mostly because she didn't even like it from her family, let alone from someone who was less than a passing acquaintance. His expression gave her even greater pause, however, because he seemed sincere. Perhaps too sincere for belief, since Slytherins didn't exactly ooze genuineness. She looked at his long-fingered hands clasped casually across the textbook and measured out the meaning in his words. Malfoy was willing to play along.

Surprised, Rose schooled her features with effort, hoping that none of her classmates noticed her bemusement. The fact that Scorpius Malfoy was willing to lie on her behalf, for whatever reasons he might have, was unexpected. It put Rose in mind of her first lessons in Wizarding chess from her father. Ron Weasley set up all the pieces and told her how they moved, and then he'd beaten her three times in a row. It wasn't until her mother had explained the concept of strategy and looking ahead by several moves that Rose understood the complexities of the game for the first time. This was similar - she was playing a game without really knowing the rules.

Rose unpacked her bag swiftly, each movement purposeful and precise, and gave herself a few moments of silence to determine her next move. It was a delicate dance, saying something friendly and innocuous that might help Malfoy to respond in kind without any forced familiarity. Finally... "Thank you. Are you coming to watch the Gryffindor tryouts tomorrow?"

Quidditch was good. Boys always wanted to discuss the sport, and Malfoy was the Slytherin captain. Odds were good that he'd pick up that conversational Quaffle and run it all the way to the hoop.

He did. "Of course." His voice was quietly amused, subtle enough perhaps that no one else in the room would realize that he recognized the ridiculous in their circumstances. The fact that every eye was on them and every ear was straining to listen to their conversation just seemed to highlight the disparity of the scene. One table up and seated next to Dane Pitney, Al sat with his back to them, his shoulders shaking from what Rose suspected was repressed laughter. So that made two people in the room who were amused by the turn of events - Al and Malfoy. Yates, on the other hand, sat stiffly at his bench, hands clenched in his lap. Rose couldn't be sure if it was because she'd snubbed him coming into the room or because she was sitting with Malfoy. Maybe both.

Malfoy noticed Yates as well, and he turned a genuine smile in Rose's direction, almost as if they were sharing in the pleasure of Yates' disapproval. Malfoy probably didn't know it, but he was a bit breathtaking when he smiled like that. Rose hadn't realized he could do more than smirk at a girl, like she was lucky to get attention at all, and she preferred this expression. Or she did until he opened his stupid mouth, adding in a disarmingly earnest tone, "You're still going to sit with me during tryouts, right? Like you said you would? I'd just feel better about it if you were there."

Rose set her quill down too hard, and the nib snapped off. She [i]hadn't]/i] asked him to sit with her. Watching James lord his captaincy over other students was unpleasant under normal circumstances, and Rose had hoped to avoid a potentially excruciating experience. Al and Jayne would forgive her.

After too long a pause, she sighed softly, hearing in that sigh the sound of a trap closing in around her. "Of course. I like having company in the stands." She didn't suppose Al would fret much, but James was going to be livid. To him, it wouldn't just be that Malfoy was there, but it would look as if she had invited him.

The death of her quill amused Malfoy, and he slid one of his across the table as Professor Sato strode into the classroom, making any retort from her or response from Malfoy impossible. Sato ran his classes at a grueling pace, leading them quickly through the various potions they might be attempting that day based upon his prompt. His gaze lingered on Rose for a moment as other students threw up their hands around her, although she liked to believe it was out of shock that she didn't offer up an answer rather than at seeing her seated beside Malfoy. Surely Sato was above petty house feuds, even if he was the Ravenclaw Head of House. When the professor finally announced they'd be working on the Volubilis Potion in class, Malfoy shoved his book into the gap between them and tapped the potion in question. Great big show-off already had it open to the correct page.

Rose ignored his book and flipped open her own, her gestures exaggerated. Even as she knew she was being childish, considering Malfoy was saving her from sitting with Yates, she was put out with the Slytherin boy. Rose needed the time to unpack her cauldron and began gathering the supplies for their potion to relax into the routine of the class. Professor Sato was demanding, and she would do badly if she was distracted by thoughts of the wrath of James, the machinations of Malfoy, or really anything other than the task at hand.

"I'll chop, if you prepare the honeywater," Rose directed without sparing him a glance. She had no clue how proficient Malfoy was at potions, but experience taught her that doing the hard bits herself was the surest way to succeed. His eyes lingered on her briefly, but Malfoy went to work carefully measuring and re-measuring the honeywater into a graduated cylinder. From there, he moved on to measuring out the stewed mandrake and syrup of hellebore, each ingredient checked multiple times. The way his long fingered hands moved gracefully through each task caught and held Rose, and her chopping slowed over time, especially when he fussed over the cleanliness of the cauldron and opted to scour it again before putting it on the heat. She'd never had a more meticulous lab partner. In truth, she wasn't that meticulous herself.

"You know, you'll get it finer if you use a better knife." She tried not to jump at his words, although Rose had been entire unaware that he'd been watching her at work, or that he'd noticed how long it was taking. At his suggestion, Rose lifted her knife and examined the edge. She'd sharpened it in preparation for the school year, but apparently it wasn't sharp enough for Malfoy standards.

"It's the only knife I've got. Maybe you should give me yours." Rose turned her honey brown eyes on him, letting her words drip with saccharine sweetness. There was nothing overt for him to object to in her tone, but the mockery was clear. Malfoy slid his own blade across the table with an amused expression. The blade was well made, with an ornate hilt that had been shaped into a serpent coiled to strike.

"Careful, Weasley." His own turned to condescension, as Malfoy tapped the hilt of his knife with careful fingers, lingering as if he was loathe to part with it. "It's sharp."

His hand still covered the hilt when Rose turned back to him, expression thoughtful and her own knife gesturing lazily in his direction. "You really should have said."

"I should have said what? That you need a better knife? I believe I did say." Malfoy inched out of her personal space, giving both Rose and her gesticulating knife some room. With concentrated effort, he returned to his work station, although Malfoy's eyes drifted back to the knife. Rose didn't think anything of it; she was preoccupied with her own thoughts.

At his work station, Al made a stabbing gesture, grinned, and shook his head at her. What did... Oh. With a flash of realization, she dropped her knife onto the bench beside Malfoy's, hoping Sato hadn't noticed. Nothing like detention for drawing a blade on someone in the first week to ruin her chances at Head Girl. "You should have said that you're good at Potions. And that I was being pushy," she edged over until her shoulder touched his, close enough so no one would hear their hushed discussion. "I'm usually partnered with some idiot that doesn't even know which end of the knife to hold. I tend to have to take charge."

Their exchange was obviously loud enough for Al to catch the meaning, and his face reflected mock outrage. More often than not, Al was her preferred lab partner, and while he wasn't an idiot, Rose assigned him to manageable tasks as they worked so that she could oversee the potion as a whole. It was simply easier to ensure quality by taking responsibility, especially as Potions wasn't a class that came easily to Rose, and she needed extreme focus in order to earn top marks. Laziness in a lab partner simply wasn't acceptable. Just from their brief interaction in class, however, Malfoy wasn't someone that required her management, and she looked like a little fool for bossing around someone that very well might be more capable than she was.

"I'm good at a lot of things." Malfoy lowered his voice and searched her face with grey eyes that glinted like the broken shards of a mirror. "So, you're bossy, then, and apparently not all that observant." It was hard to be angry at his words when he was smiling that strange, affecting smile again.

"Spotted you, didn't I?" Rose tossed over her shoulder as she returned to her chopping. To her chagrin, the balance of the knife was much better and the blade noticeably sharper, and Rose found she was able to get a much finer final product. It was also hard to be mad at Malfoy when she'd actually learned something new. The 'I'm good at a lot of things' wasn't going to get any consideration, though, since it made her feel like she was back in the game with shifting rules. Just... not touching it. He had a reputation for being good at any number of things that had nothing to do with Potions class.

"Only took you, oh, going on six years," the comment was muttered under his breath, but Rose heard Malfoy plainly. Rose couldn't help but glance at him, her expression clearly one of disbelief. Why should she notice his skill level in Potions when they'd never been partnered before? Why would she even be paying attention to him today if they weren't partners? Bold, wasn't he? Louder, he added, "Of course, I don't blame you. It's hard to spot real talent when you're distracted by how very good looking I am."

Good looking? Granted, Malfoy was easy on the eyes, but Rose wasn't driven entirely by hormones the way some people were. Surely she was capable of finishing a potion without swooning into the cauldron. She felt herself blush at his words, although the terrible dungeon lighting helped to hide it. The flame from the cauldron made her freckles dance a bit, but it did nothing to give away her confusion.

Her silence stretched between them before Rose added a fierce, "Regardless, I like things to be done right. If that makes me bossy, well... I'd rather be right and bossy than wrong."

It was the wrong tact, and Malfoy took Rose's intended end to the discussion as an invitation to continue speaking. Rose wished he'd stop, not because he was flustering her or anything so silly, but because she needed to concentrate. Malfoy had no trouble chatting and working; he let the standard ingredient base warm and watched for colour changes as he spoke to her. Under his supervision, the contents of the cauldron turned red and then green, and Malfoy carefully added the pre-measured honeywater until the liquid turned pink. "Being bossy doesn't immediately equal being right."

The knife slowed, and Rose concentrated on making sure the mint sprigs were tiny and consistently perfect. "Being right gives license to being bossy, though. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings by not paying attention to you in class before. I didn't realize how much validation from a Weasley meant to you." And now if they could stop with all the chatting? She'd humbled herself in the concession that she had misjudged him, she'd called herself bossy, and he was intent on rubbing it in her face. Supposing that was a Malfoy in action, it was no wonder she hadn't bothered to spend time with him before.

Malfoy laughed without malice, untying some of the knots working their way through her stomach. He didn't press on with the discussion, either, and when their potion turned orange, Malfoy simply said, "Mint sprigs."

With exaggerated precision, Rose measured out a portion of the chopped mint and slid it across the table to him. Malfoy's expression had a momentary flicker of annoyance, and Rose realized she had misjudged him again. If Rose was in charge, she'd want to personally add all the ingredients. Malfoy, however, had no interest in doing the lion's share of the work. They clearly were not suited as partners personality-wise.

Not that she cared, really. Not when they were unlikely to be paired again by choice. Rose's attention returned to the knife in her hands, not because Malfoy wasn't worth her time or attention, although she wasn't particularly generous with either, but because she, unlike some people, had her priorities in order and cared about doing well in class. Rose already worked so hard in Potions just to keep up her grade. Imagine if having better equipment would reduce that effort.

The knife balanced across her fingertips, and she ignored the fact that Malfoy re-measured her mint twice before putting it into the cauldron. "Where did you get this?"

His attention flitted very briefly to her before he turned back to the cauldron in time for the potion to turn green. "Family heirloom. But you can find similar knives at Borgin and Burkes. That's where I got my spare." As in, he had more than one of these knives? Rose flipped it back and forth, weighing the balance against her hands and knowing that she was going to have to be content with a lesser knife. Her parents would never let her visit Knockturn Alley, especially not to buy a knife that costs more than she'd ever received in birthday money. Ever, in all her birthdays put together.

"More mint sprigs, Weasley." This time, after Rose carefully measured out the chopped mint and held it up for Malfoy's approval, she leaned over to check the temperature and color of the potion, although she had just seen Malfoy do it. No reason not to be over-zealous just because he happened to be that way too. She could be just as obnoxious and fastidious if necessary. Without waiting for Malfoy's nod, she carefully added the mint to the cauldron. The potion simmered for a long, agonizing moment, and Rose chewed at her lip until the concoction turned pink.

"Stewed mandrake. Malfoy." His glance in her direction was withering, but Malfoy added the mandrake without additional comment. They both paused, watching for changes, and then Malfoy indicated she should continue. With the Syrup of Hellebore. Ugh. It wasn't a hard material to work with under most circumstances, but the quantity was measured out in viscous droplets and adding too much could have pretty dramatic effects.

"Maybe I can find a better sharpening charm for my knife," Rose mused as she returned the pretty little knife to Malfoy and reached across the bench for the syrup. Her hand shook slightly, some stupid reaction to the stress of a new partner and a new potion in their first week of NEWT level work, probably, but Rose immediately put aside the idea of simply dripping the syrup into the cauldron. Especially not with Malfoy watching every move with his pale-as-water eyes.

"Maybe, but it isn't just about being sharp is it?" Malfoy put the knife carefully aside and pretended to ignore her actions. It didn't work. She could feel his attention on her, like an extra pair of robes adding weight to her every movement.

Impatiently, Rose shoved an errant curl out of her eyes as she leaned over the cauldron. The potion was still pink now, although it was slowly darkening and would soon be orange. Just as soon as it changed color, she should add the syrup. In preparation, she dripped several careful drops into another phial. It was a clumsy way to add an ingredient that tended to cling to surfaces, and Rose burned bright with embarrassment, but it was far better to look a little inept than to blow up the dungeons and look incredibly inept. The potion turned orange, and Rose watched the syrup ooze from the phial into the cauldron.

It turned blue again almost immediately, and Rose gave Malfoy a delighted look before she could catch herself. Well. Since when was it so uncool to care about academics, hmm? "We may want to lower the heat. It's progressing quickly." Her voice was steadier than she felt, and Rose resolved to ensure that she always had a non-Malfoy lab partner for the rest of the term, even if she had to pay a Hufflepuff to hold her seat. The boy might be better, but he made her worse.

Scorpius adjusted the heat and watched the color progression of the potion, first red, then yellow, and the potion was complete. It was a nice deep mustard-color, without a hint of murkiness to it, sparks chasing across the surface. Rose fished for a phial to fill at Professor Sato's instruction, although the phial nearly slipped from her fingers to disappear into the cauldron forever when Malfoy leaned in, his smooth voice brushing against her ear like a brush of doxy wings. "Poor Shacklebolt seems to be struggling on his own."

Rose finished decanting their potion and waited until it was fully stoppered before peeking at Yates. There was nothing poor about him, really, although his posture was oddly stiff and he seemed distracted. Perhaps by the sight of a Malfoy head and a Weasley head tipped in close over a shared cauldron? It made every awkward, embarrassing moment of this class period worth it.

She couldn't look for long, though, not if she hoped to maintain any semblance of control over her expression, and Rose flipped open her notebook to jot notes about the lesson. "Good." The stubborn chin came out again, and she tilted her head away from Malfoy to give him a sidelong peek. "Tell me if he sets himself on fire. I don't want to miss that."

"Violence, Weasley?" Scorpius was amused, and he returned to her side so they wouldn't be overheard. "You two have a lovers' tiff?"

She gave Malfoy a brief, heated look before continuing with her notes. "Nothing of the sort. Just my standard Gryffindor love for unwarranted violence and bloody mayhem."

"And yet somehow, we got the Baron. Go figure." Malfoy was doing that thing where he talked to himself again.

Without a pause, she changed the subject to one that was more comfortable. "I think the issue was with the hellebore, although I tried to compensate for the loss in the initial pour. The potion is likely functional, but if he wants us to test it, I'll do it. The mistake was mine."

He didn't seem to mind the subject change. To the contrary, there was mild approval in his tone. "Oh, you caught that? I hadn't thought you noticed. It's a consistency thing. You lose around half a drop with a syrup like that one, and when you're talking only a few drops in the first place, it counts for a lot. You can charm it out of course, but sometimes Tergeo can mess with the potion, especially with one like this where its a no-stir philtre." Pedantic, condescending approval.

Rose was determined not to get agitated that he was speaking to her like a second year Potions novice, although her expression was bland when she finally raised her face to look at him. Fortunately, Sato's instructions for submitting their phials prevented any desire for a snippy response, and Rose labelled theirs before scurrying off to hand it in at the Potions Master's desk.

Yates opened his mouth to address her when she passed his table on the way back, but Rose ducked her head and slid back onto her stool. Malfoy had his things packed already, looking nearly as ready to bolt for the door as Rose did. "Mal... Scorpius. Thanks." For all of it, but mostly for playing along.

He glanced thoughtfully at Yates as Sato dismissed them but spared her a scornful response. "I'll see you at tryouts."

"I think everyone will," Rose responded, a bit weakly. Her bag was quickly packed and shouldered, and Rose stood. It took a bit of ducking and weaving to get to the door, but she wanted to catch Al in order to nag his ears off over not saving her a seat. Clearly, his priorities were lacking, if he preferred to sit with Dane instead of his own cousin and best friend. Dane wasn't even very good at Potions, and Rose didn't know how he'd made it into NEWT levels.

She hadn't been watching for Yates, however, and he caught up with her right outside the door. "We need to talk."

He stepped and Rose shifted, again and again, until Yates finally grabbed hold of Rose's arm at the elbow. "I'm very busy," she tried to shake him off. "I have to go."

"Don't be stupid, Rosie," Yates had on a very big smile for the benefit of those passing them in the corridor, and Rose desperately wanted to smack it off his face. Why was this happening here? In front of people? In front of people who assumed that Yates had a right to grab her simply because his smile was so-very-charming?

"Rose. It's just... Rose." She jerked her arm free and swung her heavy satchel in his direction, forcing Yates back a few steps. "I don't want to talk. I don't want you to touch me. I'm leaving." She shouldered the bag again and stepped between people to where Al waited for her at end of the corridor.

As you all know, I am a huge HUGE fan. I am also the best fan. AHEM. And this chapter just slays. UGH.

Thank you, Ern, for that wonderful chapter. Who needs actual published books when we have the two of you writing fanfiction?

I hope someone actually sets fire to Yates Shacklebolt. It would make my day.