Chapter 9
Back at Hogwarts, on the other side of Christmas holidays, O.W.L. appeared much closer. The fifth years returned to find an unforgiving avalanche of work awaiting them.
"This is absolute madness," Rose said, sitting in the library with Maren and Albus one evening as they attempted to puzzle through their transfiguration homework. "How does Lyncroft expect us to finish all of this?"
"Maybe she's hoping we fail," Maren suggested, scratching out half her parchment. "And then she doesn't have to worry about us mucking up our exams."
"Do we get out of O.W.L.s if we're failing?" Albus asked, raising his head.
"I dunno," Maren shrugged. "Sure would be nice if we did, though, wouldn't it? I'd gladly fail transfiguration if it meant I didn't have to worry about that O.W.L."
"I'd fail potions," Rose said. "Though," she added after a moment's pause, "I think my mum would actually use an unforgivable on me, so maybe not."
"James said his O.W.L.s weren't too bad," Albus said, tracing his finger along a line of the textbook. "He said we're winding ourselves up too much."
"James is also a git," Rose reminded him.
"True."
"Say," Rose glanced at the clock on the wall and looked to Maren. "What time did Allie say she would be coming?"
"After her meeting with your runes professor is over," Maren answered. "I think she said that was at seven."
"That's what I thought, too." Rose frowned. "It's nearly half past."
"Hm." Maren shrugged. "Maybe she saw someone in the corridor."
"Maybe."
"Rose, what's the correct wand movement for a simple inanimate object vanishment?"
"A jab perpendicular to the object's center...I think."
"I'm here, I'm here! I'm sorry I'm late!" Allie burst into the library in a rush of robes, earning a glare and a sharp "Shh!" from Mrs. Pince.
"Sorry," Allie whispered, though the librarian had already shuffled away.
"What took you so long?" Rose asked, clearing away some of the books and parchment scattered on the table. "I thought you said you'd be done at seven?"
"I was," Allie said breathlessly, dropping into the seat beside Rose and removing her bag. "I went back to the dormitory afterwards because I wanted to try—my mum and dad got me this darling nail set for Christmas. Look!" She brandished her nails at them. They were ice blue, perfectly formed, with painted snowflakes that danced and twirled.
"They're gorgeous," Maren said, eyes wide.
"I can do yours later if you'd like," Allie replied, wiggling her fingers one more time.
"Nah," Maren shook her head. "I bite mine too much. Anyways," she looked at Rose, "I already know that Winkle's cauldron would boil over if I showed up with sparkling nails like that."
Rose chuckled. "Like the time Katrina came to practice with all those bracelets on and he said they would make her a target for the beaters?"
Allie sniffed. "Now that just sounds silly."
"It is," Rose and Maren replied unanimously.
"Anyways," Allie continued, "my parents got me this nail kit and I wanted to try it out. It lets you do the animated designs and matte finish without having to do a drying spell afterwards!"
"How does that work?" Albus asked from across the table, staring at Allie's fingers with a mixture of apprehension and fascination.
"It has powdered doxy eggs and a bit of fairy dust in it, which makes it unusually fast-drying and matte," Allie said, looking down to admire her handiwork again. "I was reading about the reaction that happens when those ingredients mix with the pigment and-"
"Alright, that's enough," Maren interrupted, shaking her head. "I don't need a potions lesson right now."
"Fine." Allie tucked a piece of curly blond hair behind her ear and beamed at the table. "How was everyone else's holidays? Your letters were splendid."
"Mine were good," Maren answered, closing her textbook and shoving her roll of parchment to the side. "Mum and Dad took me and Jay into London for a day and we had a grand time. We saw this show Mum wanted to see at the West End and then Dad and I went to Diagon Alley. And I got tickets to see a Holyhead Harpies game this summer!"
"Oh, you'll have to tell us which one it is," Albus said, grinning. "I'll ask my mum if she'll be going to that one. Maybe she could introduce you to some of the players."
"Merlin, don't tell her that now," Allie mumbled as Maren's face turned pink and her mouth opened.
"I nearly forgot!" Maren cried, slapping an excited hand on the table and receiving a lethal glare from Madam Pince. "Al, you have to write her this evening and ask. Oh, that would be wonderful, d'you think she knows all the players? Could she show me the changing rooms and the practice pitch?"
Albus shrugged. "I dunno. Probably."
"How were your holidays, Rose?" Allie asked quickly, turning away from Maren, who had begun to interrogate Albus, who looked like he rather regretted saying anything.
"They were," Rose paused and wrapped a piece of hair around her finger, "they were good."
"It sounded like a lovely time with all your family there," Allie said.
Rose shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, chaotic and loud, as usual. But-" she thought of her conversation with her mother, "It was alright."
Allie gave her a funny look, the corners of her mouth turning down as she scrunched her nose. "Are you sure? You seem-"
"Yeah, yeah," Rose said quickly, releasing the lock of hair and forcing her face into a smile. "Yeah, I just—with Lucy and everything—it was a little—"
"Oh," Allie's face relaxed and she put a hand on Rose's shoulder. "Well, don't worry about that too much. You two will be back to normal soon."
"Mhm." Rose looked down at her parchment, and thought again of her conversation with her mother, how Hermione's breathing had turned ragged and harsh as she recounted her worst war experiences, and how she had found Rose's hand and clung to it, as though Rose were a life raft.
Allie turned to her book bag and fished out an inkpot and roll of parchment. "So," she said loudly enough to catch the attention of Maren and Albus, "What are you all working on right now?"
"Transfiguration," Rose answered quickly, grateful for the change in conversation. She gestured towards the length of parchment in front of her. "This homework set is taking ages."
"Ugh," Allie groaned. "I was hoping it would be quick so we could start on runes. Have you looked at that translation Scribner set us, Rose? It's massive. And I have to do that extra prep for O.W.L.s"
The library door opened again, and when Rose looked up her chest tightened. Nathan and Lucy were walking towards them, hand in hand, with Scorpius Malfoy a step behind. Rose looked down at the table, letting her hair fall around her face. Her neck and cheeks burned, and she could feel a lump steadily rising in her throat.
"Mind if we join you?" Nathan asked when they reached the table.
"Not at all," Albus replied cheerily, motioning towards the empty chairs.
The three newcomers took their seats. Rose kept her gaze on her Transfiguration textbook, not reading any of the words in it. For once, Lucy was not the person Rose most dreaded seeing.
She had not considered the fact she would have to see Scorpius again after holidays, after hearing everything her mother had told her. They barely spoke to each other, and when Rose thought of Hogwarts, of her dormitory and classes and friends, he appeared only as a fuzzy figure sitting on the perimeter. Yet here he was, sitting two seats away from her, undeniably solid, undeniably Malfoy.
She glanced up again, caught sight of his blond hair, his pinched expression as he sifted through his bag and pulled out an eagle feather quill and inkpot. All she could think about was her mother's story, her dad and Uncle Harry trapped in the cellar, Bellatrix Lestrange, that deranged woman she had seen in books-Scorpius's aunt-torturing her mother. The lump grew, and Rose's face burned. A horrible fear struck her that she would begin to cry right there in the library.
With barely another thought she picked up her textbook and shoved it in her bag, followed by her parchment, quill, and inkpot. "I-I have to go," she mumbled in a thick voice as she rose from her seat, not looking at the others. She could feel them all staring at her.
"But why?" Allie asked, eyebrows coming together. "I thought we were going to-"
"I forgot something," Rose invented, throwing her bag over her shoulder and almost falling over as its weight swung around her. "In the dormitory. I-I have to go back-"
She hurried away without another word, furiously twisting a piece of hair around her finger, pulling tight until her finger burned.
Maren called after her, "I thought you wanted to finish this homework before your patrol tonight?"
Rose ignored her.
Rose arrived late for patrol that evening. Scorpius raised an eyebrow as he saw her approaching, but otherwise did not comment on her tardiness.
Rose did not greet him, did not make an excuse or even respond to his obvious judgment of her time management. If Scorpius were confused or concerned by her behavior earlier in the library, he did not show it. Nor did he ask about it. They began their route in silence.
Rose, for the first time, found herself uncomfortably aware of how close she and Scorpius were during these hours. Only a few feet separated them, and she wondered if it would be weird for her to walk on the opposite side of the corridor. If anyone questioned it she could simply say it was an added measure of surveillance, to ensure they were carefully watching every corner. Nobody would-
Beside her, Scorpius coughed.
Did death eaters cough? Did they get ill? It was an odd thought, and Rose turned it over in her mind. She knew Scorpius wasn't a death eater, but she imagined a man who looked very much like him, with a chin even more pointed and eyes that looked like they had never creased when he smiled. Lucius Malfoy, the man she had seen in the newspaper two years ago, Scorpius's grandfather. He had been a death eater. Had he ever gotten ill? Yes he had, she knew he had, that was how he died, wasn't it?
There was something almost funny about a death eater dying from something as mundane as dragon pox. Anyone could die from that. And here was this man, with his pale face and blond hair, who had killed and hurt and terrorized so many people to make himself more, and he had died all the same from the same thing thousands of other people died from.
And so what was it for?
The lump came to her throat again, but this time Rose did not want to cry. She swallowed and felt her face grow warm, though now it was something else. Anger, thick, hot, crackling anger spread from her throat into her face and down to her stomach, as though someone had doused her in it.
Lucius Malfoy and his family had tortured her mother, locked her dad and uncle in a cellar, killed her dad's brother, and for what? The question bounced around Rose's brain, and each reverberation intensified the burning anger roiling in her stomach. They had hurt her mum, the very strongest and smartest person, hurt her so much that she could barely tell the story, and for what? For this small man to die of dragon pox years later, no different from anyone else?
The words echoed in her brain over and over, rattling from one side of her skull to the other. All at once, they came together and seemed to smack her right on the forehead.
"Ow!" Rose cried, putting a hand to her head and looking up furiously to find a suit of armor clattering in front of her.
"Weasley? Are you all right? I told you to look out."
Rose looked over her shoulder to see Scorpius watching her with a strange expression, one arm extended as if to steady her. Rose bit her lip, dropped her hand from her forehead, and brushed the hair from her face. "I'm fine," she muttered, looking over at the wall. "Didn't see it that's all."
Scorpius retracted his arm, shoving his hand in his pocket as his face returned to neutral. He didn't answer, and for that Rose was grateful. She crossed her arms around her middle and continued walking, though this time keeping careful watch of what lay ahead of her.
They finished the patrol in silence. When it ended, Rose stalked into the heads' office to fill out the report alone without asking if Scorpius wanted to help.
The week dragged by. Rose trudged through class and practice as though in a nasty dream, fighting to reach the end of each day. Her distraction had become noticeable. She spilled three different ingredients in potions class, missed an unprecedented twenty-six goals at quidditch practice, and dropped conversations halfway through. She even walked straight past Alec Davies in the corridor one morning without so much as a stammered hello or red face.
When anyone asked, she insisted she was just overwhelmed by the mountain of homework and quidditch and prefect duties.
She had taken to studying Scorpius Malfoy whenever possible, the back of his head, the profile of his face with its pointed nose and sharp chin. She cataloged each feature, trying to puzzle out how much he resembled Lucius, to what extent his features resembled those of Bellatrix. With this, she tried to answer a bigger, more impossible question: if he resembled these people physically, how much did he resemble them internally? Would Scorpius be capable of torturing someone, she muses. She wonders how much he knows, if he's aware of all that happened in his home. She has an image of Scorpius and two other pale, pointed blonds sitting in a great room sipping tea on top of a blood stained floor.
Rose wished fervently she could talk to Lucy about it all. Of everyone, Lucy would have understood, would have helped her sort everything out. But Lucy remained impenetrable, unresponsive. Rose might as well have tried talking to a wall.
Thursday night found the fifth year Ravenclaw girls in their dormitory, all absorbed in their own activity. Rose and Maren lay on Rose's bed, Rose curled around a pillow re-reading Pride and Prejudice and desperately wishing she could inhabit Elizabeth Bennett's life, even for a day. Maren lay sprawled out at the foot of the bed, trying to charm a muggle football to fly to the Slytherin dormitory and startle Albus. Allie sat at the edge of her bed, nail kit open in front of her, painting intricate designs on each finger. Lucy lay on the floor, poring over a pamphlet entitled Magical Careers and Occupational Pathways within the Ministry of Magic.
Maren looked over from her spot on the bed and frowned. "Lucy, why are you reading through that again? You almost know it by heart."
"I want to make sure I haven't missed anything," Lucy retorted, flipping a page. "There's a lot of information here."
"Yeah, it lets you know how many ministry jobs are an absolute bore."
Rose glanced up from her book and then slowly lowered her gaze again, knowing better than to involve herself in the conversation.
Lucy scowled and flicked another page. "They're not bores, they're reliable-"
"Just say they're bores," Maren grinned. "What happened to the other pamphlet you got? The one on international trade? That one looked much more interesting."
Lucy mumbled something indistinct that began with "My dad thinks…"
Maren rolled her eyes. "I'm glad I know what I want to do after school."
"Yeah?" Allie looked up from her nails, a smile playing at her mouth. "Let me guess, professional quidditch fan?"
Maren threw a pillow at her, and Allie shrieked as she jumped out of the way. "Maren, my nails!"
"They'll be fine!" Maren cried. "And no, I would never be a professional fan, I'm going to play professionally, of course."
"Of course," Allie drawled, still grinning.
"Mhm," Maren nodded, sitting up. "Right, Rose? I told you my whole plan!"
"She did," Rose said, closing her book and sitting up as well. "What was it, play in one of the minor league teams for a few years, play for one of the England teams for as long as you can, and then go work for the Department of Magical Games and Sports?"
"Exactly," Maren nodded fervently. "The perfect plan. So Lucy," she turned and raised an eyebrow at the pamphlet, "you should look at the international trade business again."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "Some of us have to find serious jobs, Maren."
Maren frowned and turned away, visibly stung. "Quidditch can be a serious job," she murmured, biting her lip. "Just because I don't want to sit at an office discussing cauldron thickness all day-"
"Would you give it a bloody rest?" Lucy cried, jumping to her feet. She tugged at the end of her ponytail and glared at Maren and Rose. Rose shrank back, moving to pick up her book again. She wished Maren and Allie would leave, that she could sit down and talk to Lucy without Lucy getting angry with her. The lump returned to her throat, and the back of her eyes burned.
"Some of us don't get to just go through school thinking about quidditch and not caring if we're late to class or spill crushed beetles three times during class—"
"Hey," Rose said, "Luce, why don't you just sit—nobody meant anything-"
"I'm sick of all of you," Lucy muttered. She snatched her pamphlet from the floor and stomped out of the dormitory.
Rose watched her cousin leave, heard the door jump and shiver closed, and saw Maren's face fall. The burning behind her eyes intensified. She hadn't even said anything, and still Lucy was angry with her. Her face grew warmer, and it wasn't until she tasted salt that she realized tears had begun to fall from her eyes.
"I'm sorry," Maren muttered, crawling closer and wrapping an arm around Rose's shoulder. "I didn't think she'd be angry with you too."
"It's not—not that-" Rose blubbered, trying to get control of her tears. "It's just—everything is too much right now and I just want—I want Lucy to talk to me—"
"We know," Allie crooned, having set down her nail kit and moved to sit on Rose's bed. She reached out and smoothed the back of Rose's hair. "What's going on, Rose? You've been strange all week."
"Is it Winkle yelling at you?" Maren asked. "Because, you know, we all have off days and he was a bit of a prat the way he yelled at you the other day."
"Is it O.W.L.s?" Allie asked. "I know we're all pretty tired-"
"No, no," Rose cried. "It's— my mum—"
The whole story came tumbling out. Her parents and Uncle Harry, Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix Lestrange, the cellar, torture.
Rose gulped as Maren and Allie gaped at her.
"Tortured?" Maren asked, her arm tightening around Rose's shoulder. "As in like death eaters and pain and terrible?"
"Like cruciatus?" Allie whispered, moving to sit fully on the bed, her hand stroking Rose's hair.
Rose nodded, looking down at the duvet, and twisted a piece of hair around her finger.
"And Scorpius's family...I can't believe it," Allie whispered, her brown eyes wide.
"What do you mean you can't believe it? His whole bloody family was in with Voldemort," Rose snapped, twisting to glare.
"I know that," Allie retorted, still stroking Rose's hair. She returned Rose's gaze and sighed. "I just-it's weird, I mean. Scorpius is so gentle."
"I don't-"Rose breathed in and sank back against the pillows, covering her face. "I know that. I didn't-I mean-how do you just-"
"Merlin," Maren breathed, sinking down beside Rose. "Circe, Merlin, and Dumbledore."
They sat silent for a second.
Beside Rose, Maren took a breath. "Y'know, Rose, it's weird. I know-I know that your family-your parents-were in the war and all that, but I didn't-I don't-"
"You don't always think about what it means," Rose supplied, uncovering her face and turning to look at her friends. Allie watched her carefully, her eyes creased with concern, her fingers still running through Rose's mass of curls. Maren simply sat beside her, mouth slack, looking as though she were working through a particularly difficult homework question.
Rose took a deep breath. "I know. I feel the same." She turned back towards the pillow, grinding her fist into the feather down. "We don't know half of it. They don't tell us anything."
"If it's all like this then I don't blame them." Maren wiped a lock of hair from her forehead. "I mean, there's not a good way to tell you guys about things like that, y'know?"
"I guess."
"They're probably trying to protect you," Allie said, cocking her head to the side. "They don't want you to have to think about all these terrible things."
Quiet again. Rose bit her lip. "So what do I do?"
Maren sits up and frowns. "About your mum being tortured? You find one of the bastards that did it and hex him into last year. Hex him into twenty years ago."
"Maren," Allie hissed, smacking Maren in the side. "That's not helpful!"
Rose shook her head. "About Scorpius. I mean-I feel like I can't just sit in class or go to practice or patrol with him now. Everything feels-it feels so different-"
Maren nodded slowly and turned to face Rose. "I mean, you could just ignore him forever until one of you dies or we graduate. That could work."
Rose gave a small laugh. The tears had stopped, and she wiped the remaining tracks from her cheek. "I just have to see him all the time"
"You could talk to him about it," Allie suggested. "I mean, he might also-"
Rose cut her off with a sharp laugh. "How would I do that, Allie? Hey, Scorpius, can I ask you a quick question? Yeah, did you know your house was once a huge hangout for Death Eaters and Voldemort himself and that your great aunt tortured my mum there while my dad and uncle were held hostage in the cellar? Any thoughts on that?"
Allie shrugged. "I'd hope you would phrase it better than that."
Rose sighed. "I just-do you think he knows?" she peered at her friends, her eyes crinkling as the corners of her mouth turned down. "I don't-if he knows then I don't want to know that he knew. That would be-" she shuddered. "But if he doesn't-I dunno. I don't want to be the one to tell him."
Allie nodded slowly, and Rose swallowed.
"He's got to know some of it though, doesn't he?" Maren asked, rolling over and raising an eyebrow. "There's no way he doesn't know that his dad was involved in all that."
"It's different," Rose ground out, frowning. "It's just different to know and to-to know."
"Yeah," Maren sighed.
"You should say something," Allie said quietly. Rose looked up, met Allie's dark eyes, and gave a small nod.
"How do I do that?"
"You don't have to tell him everything, not like you told us," Allie said, her fingers combing through a knot in Rose's hair. "But just-I think you both could do with, you know, acknowledging everything. I mean, it's not a secret your families were on two different sides of everything."
"Yeah, that's true," Rose nodded. She bit her lip and looked up at Allie again. "How do I even bring that up, though?"
Allie sighed, her shoulders sinking. "I don't know, Rose. I have no idea what any of this is like."
Rose swallowed and sank deeper into the pillow. Allie was probably right, she thought. The only people who would be able to help her with this would be the ones whose parents had also fought heavily in the war. Oddly enough, Scorpius would probably understand it more than Allie or Maren. Rose wasn't sure if that thought made her feel better or worse.
***
The last patrol of the week arrived, though Rose had been willing it not to. She sat in the Ravenclaw common room pretending to work on a potions essay, but instead of researching properties of antidotes she merely watched the clock, listening for each passing tick, and wondering if she could find a spell to freeze time. Maybe, she thought, she could go to the ministry and get a time turner. She could just keep turning back hours so she never had to live through the following two. That would work, wouldn't it?
To her dismay, the hour did come. Rose grudgingly gathered her books and quills, located her badge under a roll of parchment, and scrambled down the corridor to meet Scorpius.
She arrived late for the second time that week, panting slightly as she rounded the final corner; if Scorpius felt any irritation, he hid it well.
They began their patrol in silence, leaving much more space between them than strictly necessary. Rose glanced over her shoulder every few seconds, observing her patrol partner, trying to determine a way to ask the questions she wants him to answer without actually having to say any words.
She would say the wrong thing, she thought. She always said the wrong thing, and no matter what Allie would say there was not a good way to ask someone to acknowledge that their family had been pretty bloody evil.
Scorpius, for his part, barely acknowledged Rose at all. He walked a few paces ahead of her, as usual, with his chest out and his eyes looking straight ahead. If someone saw them and didn't know they were prefects, they would think that the two of them were complete strangers.
He must know, Rose thinks. He must know what she told Maren and Allie. Maybe Allie had let something slip. Or maybe there was some sort of passage between the boys and girls dormitories, and sound travels unusually well through them. Maybe he had noticed her watching him the last few days and so had taken to listening in. Either way, he knew.
He must hate her then. He knows and he hates her, and now they'll just have to hate each other and silently patrol the corridor together until one of them dies. Or they graduate.
As they approached the charms corridor, a faint rustling emanated from a closet, along with several giggles and hushed whispers. Rose looked over her shoulder and met Scorpius's eye. She looked away hurriedly, and marched toward the closet.
"Er—excuse me," she said in her best authoritative voice, rapping on the door. The sounds stopped immediately, and Rose wondered if she had imagined them. "Excuse me," she said, more firmly this time, "I'm a prefect and I'm going to open this door right now unless you tell me not to."
"Er—one moment," a squeaky voice said from other side of the door. Rose heard frantic shuffling, several limbs bumping against the walls, more whispers.
"Right." Rose looked over her shoulder and saw Scorpius standing behind her, arms crossed, looking mildly amused. "Well, I'm going to open this now."
She swung the door open to reveal two Hufflepuff students, their robes hanging haphazardly. They both appeared older, perhaps seventh years. "Right," Rose said, standing up straighter in an effort to look more imposing. "Ten points each from Hufflepuff, and it will be more if we catch you again tonight."
The couple nodded and squeezed past Rose, scampering down the hallway before she could say another word.
Rose stood in front of the closet until the titters died down at the end of the hallway, then carefully shut the closet door. She resumed her path down the corridor without looking at Scorpius.
He caught up to her easily, and they once again walked silently, though he now was next to her and closer than before, just an arms length away.
Rose chewed the inside of her lip and twisted her hair, cursing herself for choosing to walk next to the wall. There was no way to move further away from him now without either drastically speeding up or slowing down, both of which would no doubt lead to questions.
Should she go to McGonagall and request that either she or Scorpius be replaced? She could cite their family histories as a reason they shouldn't work together, and even offer up Lucy as a replacement. That would make everyone happy, wouldn't it?
"Are you quite alright, Weasley?"
It took Rose a second to register the question, and another to recognize who asked it. She turned slowly to face Scorpius, hair halfway wrapped around her finger. A crease sat between his furrowed eyebrows, his mouth in a quizzical frown as he regarded her with something that wasn't anger; if Rose didn't know better she would think he looked concerned.
"W—what?" she answered stupidly, her mouth opening and closing without any sound. Her hand fell to her side and the lock of hair bounced against her cheekbone. The weight in her chest returned, straining against her throat and lungs.
Just acknowledge it, Allie had suggested. It doesn't have to be bad.
Scorpius appraised her, eyebrows drawing closer together. His pace slowed, and for once Rose can meander at her natural walking speed while staying beside him.
Scorpius opened his mouth, his eyes now darting from side to side, unsure. "You just—you've seemed odd, that's all." He paused and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Nothing, never mind, sorry for bothering."
Rose stared at him for another moment, and he quickened his pace so he was again two steps ahead of her. Hermione's face filled Rose's mind, her mother's soft voice, the breaks in her voice as she talked about her time at Malfoy Manor, the way she squeezed her eyes shut while recalling details.
"Did you know my mum was tortured at your house?"
Rose had meant to lie, to say she was just tired, or worried about homework and quidditch. But the memory of her mother, the weight of everything her parents had told her, pressed against her too insistently.
Scorpius froze, his back to her. For a moment Rose thought he might take off running, never to be seen again. The thought both relieved and infuriated her.
"No," Scorpius said softly, his back still to her. His shoulders deflated, hunching forward. "I didn't."
"Oh." Rose ran her hand through her hair, her feet shuffling beneath her. She looked to the ground. "I just-she just told me—over holiday. I didn't know if you knew."
Scorpius turned and Rose caught a glimpse of his face. The frown, the concern, had melted away, leaving a strange, blank mask. As though someone had waved a wand and wiped all emotion from his face. Scorpius's eyes stayed on the ground, his hands still in his pockets. For several seconds, neither of them said anything.
"Did you really think I might've known?" he whispered at last.
Rose bit her lip, the weight from her chest migrating to her throat like some sort of heavy flame. "I didn't know," she croaked. "I—my parents told me some things but not everything and I wasn't sure—you know—I know sometimes parents tell their kids a lot of things—and mine tell me nothing and I just didn't—I didn't think you like were evil or that you knew particularly that my mum was there but it is your house and it was your aunt and you know your dad—"
"It's not my house."
"I—what?" Rose's head snapped up to look at him. Scorpius's gaze stayed at his feet, though she could see a pink flush on his neck and ears.
"It's not my house," he said again, his head now lifting so his eyes came level with hers. "I don't live there."
"Oh."
"My father doesn't want us to live there."
Rose swallowed. "Oh," she said again.
Scorpius didn't respond. His back straightened, and he turned slowly away from Rose, hands still in his pockets. "We should get back to our patrol," he said without looking back.
Rose slowly got her feet to move forward again, and trailed behind him, not even attempting to catch up. Her throat felt dry and thick, as though something had lodged itself there. She swallowed, attempting to clear it, to no avail.
As they rounded the corner she found herself next to Scorpius, though whether this was a result of him slowing down or her speeding up she couldn't be sure. She was not conscious of controlling her legs or their speed at the moment.
"I'm sorry about what happened to your mother," Scorpius murmured.
Rose glanced sideways and saw he was looking at her, though not meeting her eyes. His grey eyes were trained on the top of her head.
Rose exhaled, her shoulders drooping down as she swallowed. "It's not your fault," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. "It was just— I didn't know—"
"Neither did I." Scorpius said, in a tight, hollow voice Rose had never heard before. "But it was my family. And my family's house, as you said."
"Yes, well," Rose concentrated on her feet, on moving one after the other, searching for something to say. The lump in her throat felt extremely uncomfortable, and for a horrible second she thought she might begin to cry.
She thought of Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy, the photos she had seen and stories she had heard from the Daily Prophet and History of Magic class and from her uncles when it was late and they'd had too much firewhiskey. She looked back at Scorpius, raking her eyes over his pale, pointed face, his blond hair neatly combed over his forehead, the crease in his forehead which hadn't fully disappeared, his carefully placed Prefect badge free of any smudge or scratch. "It wasn't you, though."
Scorpius looked at her sharply, and Rose looked back down at the ground. The weight in her chest had dissipated somewhat, and when she glanced over her shoulder at Scorpius, she knew she meant what she said. It wasn't him.
She felt a warm sensation in her chest, not the tears from earlier, and not even anger. It wasn't happiness but something else, something like recognition, understanding. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, tell him she knew, that she meant it. Neither of them had done the things their parents had done, whether for better or worse. She would never be her parents, and he would never be his father.
They fell back into silence, the gentle thump of their shoes against the floor the only sound between them.
Scorpius cleared his throat. "Do they talk about the war often, your parents?"
"No." Rose shook her head and grimaced. "Almost never."
"Mine either."
"Really?" Rose looked over at him and raised her eyebrows.
Scorpius nodded. "My dad won't talk about any of it. Won't even tell me about his last few years at school."
Rose didn't respond, unsure of what to say.
"I always thought your parents must have told you everything," Scorpius continued. "You seemed to know so much about what happened."
Rose shook her head and fiddled with a button on her robes. "I just know what everyone else knows," she muttered. "Not anything else."
Scorpius nodded.
They continued in silence, though a lighter one than before. Rose twirled her hair around her finger again as Scorpius checked his watch, announcing they had only ten minutes left.
The patrol ended without event, and Rose breathed a sigh of relief.
"Do you want help with the report?" she asked Scorpius as they approached the Head's offices.
He glanced at her. "You don't have to."
"It's fine," Rose said, waving a hand airily between them as though the evening had been nothing but casual. "I can help. It probably makes more sense for both of us to fill it out, doesn't it?"
Scorpius nodded slowly. "I suppose."
Rose reached out to open the office door.
"Wait, Weasley," Scorpius said from beside her.
Rose turned, eyebrows knitting together. Scorpius had his hands in his pockets again, his face pink.
"Did you tell anyone? What you asked me about tonight, did you tell anyone about that?" he asked softly, addressing the ground, though his eyes flickered up towards her.
"Just Maren and Allie," Rose replied, inwardly kicking herself now for telling even her two best friends such sensitive information.
"Right," Scorpius nodded to himself. "Does Lucy know?"
"No." Rose shook her head. "At least, I didn't say anything to her."
"Okay. Could you—could you not tell anyone else? Please?" Scorpius looked up at her, grey eyes pleading. "Nathan doesn't know everything. And I don't want people thinking I'm—you know—"
"Yeah," Rose said quickly, feeling a flush creep up her own neck. She glanced down at her hand, still loosely wrapped around the door handle. "I know what you mean. I won't say anything. And I'll ask Maren and Allie to keep it all quiet."
"Thank you," Scorpius replied, his shoulders dropping in relief.
"No problem." Rose nodded, and before she could talk herself out of it she reached out and lightly squeezed Scorpius's arm.
His head snapped up, startled by the touch, but then relaxed. Rose felt her face flush and gave a quick, hopefully friendly smile before turning back to the door so he couldn't see her scarlet cheeks.
"I'll fill out the bit about the broom closet if you do the rest," she said, her voice straining slightly.
"That works," Scorpius said from behind her, his voice measured and light.
Rose opened the door, whispering "lumos," to light the room. The reports sat in a folder on top of the desk in the corner of the room, and she snatched the one from the top of the snack.
Scorpius stood beside her and handed her a quill, watching as she wrote a brief description of the couple they had caught in the broom cupboard.
"Weasley?"
Rose turned to see Scorpius rubbing the back of his neck, the tips of his ears a definitive pink. "Yes?"
"I—" Scorpius's eyes darted around the office before landing on her shoulder. "I just—thank you. For asking if I knew, I mean."
"Oh."
They stood still for a moment, the quill in Rose's fingers still suspended over the report. She swallowed and looked back to the table. She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to think of an appropriate response.
Finally, she nodded and turned her attention back to the report. "I just wanted to be sure."
"Of course."
They finished the report and walked back to Ravenclaw Tower in silence. Though the next morning when Allie asked how everything had gone Rose simply shrugged and said it had been fine, she couldn't help but feel that the air between her and Scorpius felt less claustrophobic, and that when she looked at him now he didn't seem to look quite as much like Lucius as she had previously thought.