*tiptoes in* I had to read. And I'm so glad I decided to.

Also, I'm with all the musing on the last chapter and the title and all the mystery... Anticipation.

4.3 Scorpius Discovers the Journal
The library was clearing out when he arrived, which was no big surprise to the Slytherin. After all, dinner would be soon and most of the students who had been studying in here or playing Ravenclaw in some other way would want to drop off any books they'd borrowed in their dorms before heading to the Great Hall. Scorpius had, during the walk upstairs from the dungeons, pretty much resigned himself to doing his essay himself. Maybe he could knock it out quickly and keep his weekend relatively homework free. It was the only assignment that would be due at the beginning of the following week, and once it was taken care of, regardless of if he did it himself or not, then Scorpius could get out on the pitch and stretch his legs, maybe organise a mock game or two with his housemates. That was usually fun. They'd done a fair few the previous term and the extra practice hadn't hurt anyone, Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup after all.

The blond boy was still proud of that. It had been his first year as Captain and playing chaser he'd scored over half of the goals that Slytherin had managed in the entire tournament. Some people were of the opinion that the only position that really mattered was that of Seeker, but every goal counted. Every point mattered. You could win all your games and still lose the tournament if the final tally of the game points didn't put you in the lead. They'd blown all the other house teams out of the water so to speak, which was a marked improvement over the term before last where they'd only managed to win one game and had found themselves in third place overall. He was hoping for another first this year of course, and it mattered so much more being Captain, and having already set a high standard for himself and an expectation from others because of how well Slytherin had done the previous year.

He returned the smile that Madam Pince gave him and made his way past the issues desk, deciding to start with the potions section. His mind wandered even as he scanned the shelves and Scorpius reached out one long fingered hand to stroke the spines of the books on the shelf immediately in front of him. He pulled one about the phases of the moon and flipped to the index, grey eyes scanning the page until he found something of interest. He let out a quiet exhalation of air and tucked the book under his arm, his mind only partly on the book hunt. Within ten minutes, Scorpius had found three books of varying degrees of usefulness. The blond boy decided to wander a little more, knowing he had a little bit longer before he'd have to head back to the dungeons to drop the books in his dorm so that he wouldn't miss dinner and wouldn't have to take the bloody things with him. He'd learned early on that Madam Pince didn't approve of anyone shrinking her books and pocketing them. He smiled to himself as he recalled the moment. He'd had Goyle pocket them, not being completely sure that his charmwork would be lasting, and sure enough whatever counter charm that the Librarian had placed on the tomes caused them to return to their usual size quite suddenly, ripping the hulking Slytherin's pants in the process. Scorpius had found it hilarious and Goyle, stricken, had rushed to the bathroom and locked himself in there for hours. For such an apparent brute, Goyle could be ridiculously sensitive when there wasn't someone around he could bully and take all his frustrations out on. Lucky for Scorpius, he was decidedly not one of those people.

While his thoughts had been wandering, so had the sixth year's feet. He blinked in surprise, not entirely sure how he'd ended up on the other side of the library, in a rarely used section filled with dusty old books, some which literally wheezed when you dared to opened them. It was quiet back here though, Scorpius noted, walking around a small stool that was placed for the use of anyone who wished to take a seat while browsing the shelves. He had taken to carrying his books in one arm, tucked against his chest and now he looked up at the highest shelves. The books in this section weren't in English. He peered at one of the titles. Mermish? Was it Mermish? Stopping in his tracks, Malfoy stepped backwards. And those ones, they were Trollish, he was sure of it. Not that the boy could read either, and not that he currently had any desire to learn, but it told him what section he was in. He guessed the Gobbledegook books would be at the other end of the stretch of shelves. No wonder there wasn't anyone down this way.

His heel hit the base of the shelf behind him with a dull thud, the sound of which was swallowed by the dusty tomes in a manner that made Scorpius think they were hungry for any sort of disturbance. Silly. Books weren't sentient. Even if they were charmed or cursed, it was just magic and that was all. They certainly didn't eat sounds made by careless feet. He glanced down and was surprised to see the base of the shelf had been kicked loose by his heel. After a moment of consideration, he crouched, placing his own selection of books to one side and reaching out for the wooden panel. He was about to set it to rights when a thought crossed his mind. Scorpius frowned and with a pensive expression that was witnessed only by dusty old books written in the languages of magical beasts and beings, he crouched lower, angling his blond head to peer beneath the shelves, not entirely sure what was compelling him to do so. Blinking once, Scorpius wasn't sure if he was surprised to find that the alcove beneath the stacks was occupied, in fact he was immediately suspicious and stood up, dusting himself off. He looked left and right and then, to be sure, walked first to one end of the row and then to the other, but there wasn't a soul to be seen. This wasn't enough of a confirmation for the Slytherin, who withdrew his wand and cast Homenum Revelio without speaking a word.

Thus satisfied, Scorpius strode back to the alcove and knelt once more in front of it. He still did not reach for the hidden book, rather he sat back on his knees and nudged at the adjoining panel. This one didn't move. On further inspection and trial with various spells, Scorpius was forced to the conclusion that none of the other base panels were at all loose, or hid any sort of alcove. This set Scorp to thinking and he absently stroked his pointed chin as he stared at the dark space, his grey eyes serious and thoughtful. He reached a decision. By now students would be filing into the great hall for dinner time and Apollo and the others would be wondering where he was, but the thought of dinner had flown from his head. Were there charms on the alcove? Scorpius assumed there would be, knowing that if he had a special hiding place for whatever that book was, then he'd want to protect it as best as he could. He tried every revealing spell he knew, but there wasn't a single charm or curse protecting the alcove from intruders. Was the owner so arrogant to think that nobody would discover it? Or was it simply such an old hiding place that any magical protections had faded away? Carefully, Scorpius levitated the book out from beneath the shelf with a delicate yet determined flick and swish of his wand, inching the book out by slow degrees and shuffling backwards on his knees so that it didn't touch him. On closer examination the book appeared to be charmed, but nothing out of the ordinary, just your usual charms to stop the pages from yellowing or the ink from running. If there was anything else then Malfoy had no inkling of it, the basic spells he used, while thorough, did not reveal anything harmful.

He could take the book, he reflected, but perhaps it was better to open it now and see what was in it first, to judge if it was something that ought to stay in the library, or perhaps more importantly if he was to take it with him, if he could borrow it legitimately or if he'd need to sneak it out. Scorp's stomach growled but he ignored it, now focused entirely on the rather unassuming book in front of him. It was leather bound of course, and of pretty good quality to his eye. Growing impatient, he grunted quietly and finally nudged the book open, using the tip of his wand to do so and bracing himself for any sort of magical backlash.

Nothing happened.

Scorpius blinked and squinted at the page in front of him, noticing the swooping, handwritten text and then the date in the top right hand corner, carefully marked on each page. Recent. A few years ago. Well that was just odd. He made up his mind not to take the book away with him. It appeared to be some sort of diary. He figured he could read a page or two, see if it was worth his time, and if he felt like it, maybe he'd come back and read some more. Once he figured out if the owner was still at Hogwarts or not he'd decide if it was safe to take it out of the library. That was assuming it wasn't entirely boring and pointless, in which case he'd chuck it out and claim the hidden alcove for himself, albeit with a few protective charms to keep it hidden. Settling himself more comfortably with his back against the adjacent shelf, Scorpius tugged the book into his lap and began to read, starting at the first page.

Oh goodness.. I love Scorpius! Him finding that... eeeep! *waits for more* This has been so good and it just keeps getting better and better!!!

Lauren suggested that I read this and I did. I have not regretted my decision. You guys write so well, together especially! Keep it up, you lovely persons! The two most recent chapters got me hella excited! All the mystery eeeeppp

...and we're thoroughly enjoying every word of this fanfic! Rose is a bit of every house to me, which makes her a very interesting character. My inner Slytherin however, is telling her that she was too careless not to seal her hiding nook. The moment Scorp entered the Library, I was like...uh-oh. And it wasn't a surprise when ALL of my Slytherin characters nodded in approval. NOW I can't wait for the next chapter! I already have theories but I'm going to keep those to myself for now.



I've already set up my own dungeon here, so yes...*awaits all the good Slytherin-y & Gryffindor-y stuff*

---

I just did! I will have to go back to the Scorp posts because I am so biased about this character and let you know the lines that I like.

*waits in anticipation for what's next* Although, I have to say, like Stefan, I pretty much already figured Scorp was going to find it.

4.4 The Hidden Journal

To Whom It May Concern:

It is considered extremely rude to read someone else’s journal, which is what you're doing right now. Put it back where you found it immediately.

Scorpius smirked, wondering if instructions like that would work on anyone? No, book; Scorpius Malfoy would NOT put you back, immediately or otherwise. He continued reading.

To Whom It May Concern:

I can only assume that since you are still reading this journal, you believe yourself to be above the rules of common decency. I feel very sorry for your mother having raised a child as rude as you are.

In actual fact the journal was right. Scorpius did tend to believe himself above anything at all considered common, but he hardly thought it was fair to assume him rude. It was a book. In a library. There was nothing odd about him reading it, or rude. And his mother had raised him very well, thank you very much, book.

Dear Interloper,

I was quite assured last year, during the Horrible Incident in which my own cousin stole my journal from beneath my mattress and read snippets aloud in the common room, that I am the most boring person alive and that no one with a life of their own would be remotely interested in my day-to-day or the things I feel pertinent enough to record. If that is true, and if you are still reading this journal in spite of the fact that it is rude and invasive, I might as well offer one last warning: you probably have better things to do than read my thoughts and activities. After said Horrible Incident, I bought a charmed journal and found a new location to hide it in order to discourage the extreme lengths curiosity will lead those of my own blood. As all the old and boring entries have been transferred over via copying charms, you should be prepared to be very bored in short order. There is neither scandal nor salty language in this journal, nor have I had time or desire to cultivate a great romance at this point in my life.

All in all, if you persist in reading that which is clearly not your business, I must warn you: prepare yourself for extreme boredom and disappointment.

This journal and its author clearly needed to be taken down a peg or two. Scorpius, ever obliging, would do so simply by reading it in spite of the stupid warnings. If it was too boring to read, then he'd stop because he wanted to and not because some bloody journal insisted it was nobody's business. He'd already figured out a thing or two about whoever the owner was. Trumped up opinion of themselves, possessing of at least one unsavoury family member, female (after all, there was that 'Great Romance' bit), bossy. Definitely that last one. He pulled a disparaging face at the book and turned the page to the first entry.

1 September 2017

Breakfast:
1 egg, scrambled
1 slice of bread, lightly toasted, served with butter and marmalade
1 glass, milk
2 strips, bacon

I am not exactly sure how this whole journal thing goes. L insists that any proper girl must keep a diary for all her adventures and love affairs, which is a bit frightening from a 9-year-old. I don’t think I can keep anything so frivolous (isn’t that a marvelous word?) as a diary, but a journal is quite alright. Even Aunt G keeps a journal, and she’s worked as a actual writer for years and years. Mum bought me this little lined book, even though I never would have asked for it myself. Everyone is so uptight about journals in this family, which is why L continues to beg for one unsuccessfully. She likes the ones with the tiny heart-shaped lock and even tinier key, but Aunt G absolutely refuses.

It seems very Romantic to write letters to oneself. Not in the kissy-face way, but in the Heathcliff on the moors sort of way. (Yes, I’ve read that book, although I think it would scandalize Dad tremendously. People dying for love and all that codswallop). Except maybe that isn’t the way Mum wanted me to use this book. Suppose I’m supposed to keep track of my homework and such in here, and she would think it self-indulgent to spend two WHOLE paragraphs worrying over what to write. I doubt she’d ever ask to see what I write about, but sometimes I feel that she just knows things.

Down to business, then. We’re leaving for the train station in a few minutes, and I’ll be on my way to Hogwarts for the first time. We’re taking the car, which is why Dad and H keep walking around it in the driveway, kicking at the tires and talking loudly about ‘horsepowers’. I don’t know what a horsepower is, and I’m pretty sure Dad doesn’t either. I spent all weekend packing my trunk, but, even though I used the checklist she provided, Mum has unpacked it twice to make sure I’m not forgetting anything. She even colorcoded my packing list and stuck it inside the lid of the trunk. As if I need an alphabetical listing of which pajamas and socks I’m taking.

I wish we’d just GO already. My stomach is full of snitches.

Scorpius read through the first entry once and then again and slower having taken particular note of the date. Whoever wrote this wasn't just at the school now, they had, by the date, been sorted at the exact same time as him. Well that was interesting enough. He considered the warnings at the start of the journal and the note that the old entries had been transferred into it from whatever original book held them, and wondered at why the author had felt it necessary. Maybe there was something useful in here, or why waste the time and effort let alone the paper?

Continuing to read, Scorpius spent a moment scoffing at the journal. Wuthering Heights! He knew it was a girl, just knew it. Didn't even need the writer to confirm it when there was stuff like that peppered throughout. Never mind that Scorpius caught the reference and understood it. The library at home was expansive, that was all that meant. Not that he had to justify himself to a journal. He had his own moment of introspection, recalling that first trip to Kings Cross. His father certainly hadn't taken him by car. Who did that, honestly? Might as well just make it go all the way there like a muggle. What did they call that again? Driving! Might as well just drive it all the way to Hogsmeade instead of taking up space on the express. He raised one eyebrow. These people were obviously bonkers. Horses had nothing to do with cars. And horses with powers were obviously magical horses. Flying horses made far more sense as a method of transportation in Scorp's eyes. He continued reading.

Lunch:
1 sandwich, corned beef
1 grape soda
1 chocolate frog (Card: Hermione Granger. Is that supposed to be comforting?)

I keep remembering that Mum and Dad met each other on their very first train ride, and that Dad met his very best friend in the train station beforehand. Every single person I look at, I keep thinking ‘are we going to be friends?’ and then ‘oh, Merlin, I hope I don’t have to fall in love with you someday.’ The very first person we met when we got here was this extremely short boy with a squashed-puppy face, and if he’s my soul mate, then I am very disappointed in the state of my soul. I expected so much more.

Mum keeps reminding me, “You’re going to have a lovely time. Don’t worry if you don’t make any friends at first. People are intimidated by brainy women.” And SO ON. And then Dad says, “Avoid mountain trolls. And if you’re sorted into Slytherin, don’t bother coming home for Christmas.” I know he’s JOKING, but Mum gets all frantic and starts touching my hair and sighing.

I don’t think my brother knows how to keep them from making each other crazy. What will they do without me?

In spite of Mom’s fretting, as soon as A shows up, I remember that I’m not going to school without friends. I’m going to school with my best friend since we were wearing diapers, practically. He’s worried too, I can tell, and it makes me feel brave inside. I always feel brave when A is scared, because I know it’s my job to make sure we end up right in the end. And I’m going to make sure A and I end up right at Hogwarts, and we get into Gryffindor together, and that we get the best grades possible, and that someday we’re Head Girl and Head Boy together.

We’re on the train now, and I ought to put this away and go look around a bit with A. Now that we've eaten the lunch his mum packed, he’s impatient to see things, and if I don’t go with him, he might not make it back to our car in time to change into his robes later. Not sure if I’m even doing this journal thing right, but it seems awfully time consuming.

Why was he still reading this? Why was this girl writing her food down? Dieting? Whoever she was would have been eleven or twelve, since obviously they were sorted when he was, according to the dates that the journal oh so courteously provided. The mere mention of 'dinner' instantly made Scorp's stomach gurgle in response. Well he'd just have to get something later, since rolling into the Great Hall during meal time was never a good look, and always garnered unwanted attention from professors and prefects alike, though he supposed he could use Quidditch Captain business as an excuse. That was one he preferred not to overuse though, Scorpius Malfoy wasn't one to cry werewolf so to speak. He went back to reading and the journal got a bit of a stare at this whole 'if you’re sorted into Slytherin, don’t bother coming home for Christmas' business. Gryffindor. Well. That cleared things up. His eyebrows went up at the mention of Head Boy and Head Girl. The only person he could think of in his year that was actively angling to be head was Yates Shacklebolt. Or maybe not so much angling as expecting it on a silver platter, something Scorpius wouldn't mind seeing thwarted. Something he wouldn't mind having a hand in thwarting actually, as long as there were no repercussions on him of course.

His stomach was being insistent with its hunger pains now so Scorpius closed the journal. The disclaimer had been a little bit right, about the boring stuff, but he still wanted to come back and read a bit more, see if he could figure out who it was and maybe find out something useful. For now though, he shut the journal and carefully placed it in the alcove, exactly as he had found it. The shelf was replaced and Scorpius checked to see that he'd left everything just so. Satisfied with his efforts, he decided to head to the kitchens and bribe a house elf to provide him with something to eat in his dorm and puzzle over who could possibly be the journal's owner and how he might make use of that information.

This chapter was so I love this boy! Her warnings though cracked me up. I could so see myself saying don't bother I'm boring..

Excellent work as always! You two rock!

And I believe one Detective Wizard in the making in my head is now a Scorp fan as well. ETHAN SIT DOWN. *ahem*

EEE!

Thanks for the plug Tegan!

5.1 Overthinking Everything. Like Usual.

There was a little square of cloudless blue sky visible through the top pane of a window in the common room, and Rose tried to ignore it from her seat near the fire. With the nice weather waning and a Scottish winter on the very near horizon, most students spent as much time out on the grounds each day as they could manage. Every night this week, Rose had been able to do homework in the common room from dinner until curfew, as the place was deserted until dark. She'd even rescued a group of Hufflepuffs on Thursday when they'd stayed out too long and been locked out of the castle.

The Quidditch team was in double practices - they had the first game of the season the weekend after Halloween, only two weeks away, and many of her housemates chose to spend their evenings and weekends in the stands watching. After last year's humiliating defeat to the Slytherins led by Malfoy, their house pride was wounded and Quidditch fervor built daily. From first through seventh year, the entire house spent meals discussing strategies and identifying the weaknesses in the other teams, starting with the Slytherins. Woollongong Shimmies, Porskoff Ploys... even the Starfish and Stick became common subjects for the most novice Quidditch fans.

James put together a strong team, although from the outside, it looked as if he hadn't gone further than his own family tree at try-outs. With James, Fred, and Al returning as Seeker, Beater, and Chaser respectively, and the addition of little Roxanne as the new Beater this year, more than half of the starting team was a Weasley relative. There had been some grumbling from those who hadn't made the team, rumors that James had rigged try-outs to ensure his kin would succeed and rumors that he'd been busier flirting with girls in the stands than in watching the performances on the field.

Rose found the allegations laughable, although she could understand the frustration an outsider might feel. How could any other potential Beater compete against Rox, for example, when she'd been dodging and returning Bludgers from Fred since she was old enough to sit on a broom? How could anyone slip easily into broom drills with a group that had been flying together, in some cases, since they were toddlers? Even the non-familial players were older Gryffindors that had been playing with the team for several years. James had it made, really. In spite of his own deficiencies as a captain, he'd been presented with a very good team nearly intact. Only an idiot could screw that up, and James wasn't stupid.

To Rose's discerning eye, the Gryffindors had a very real chance of winning everything this year. The other captains would need to play against the weaknesses of the team and against James as captain, which shouldn't be difficult for the captains that played Quidditch as a game of strategy. Unfortunately, in her estimation, most at Hogwarts played Quidditch as a bloodsport: a lot of flash and noise, a lot of focus on speed and brutality, and none of the attention to detail and planning that went into play at the professional level. James complained that Rose didn't appreciate the game and that her suggestions in improving how the team played were entirely too academic. According to James, if one didn't have some sort of passionate love for Quidditch, he or she wasn't really a fan of the game and had nothing to contribute. On the contrary, Rose appreciated any good game of strategy, which was one of the reasons she could read about ancient wizarding wars with any sort of comprehension. James might discount her ideas because she didn't love to fly, but if Rose could spot the Gryffindor weaknesses, it was a fair bet someone else had seen them as well.

Today, however, practice had been put off in favor of Hogsmeade. The weather was perfect for a visit to the village, and the common room had been empty since just after breakfast, much to Rose's pleasure. Not only was she able to get prodigious amounts of work accomplished, but she only had a few younger students to manage through the morning. Al had tried to talk her into visiting the village, but Rose begged off. Who would watch over things if all six prefects were in Hogsmeade? They'd had at least one medical incident every weekend since start of term, and Rose was sure she'd be required soon. Last Saturday, Fred had stumbled over a group of first years while flinging a muzzled Fanged Frisbee at James. He'd squashed three fingers and sent two students tumbling over the back of the sofa. Based on the precedent, Rose knew that someone was sure to find himself accidentally ablaze today, and she wanted to be around to help.

Jayne worked harder to get Rose to accompany her to the village, and it was difficult to turn her down. Especially with that little patch of blue sky promising that the weather was ideal. Especially with Jayne nearly kneeling on the floor at Rose's feet, hands clasped in supplication. "Please don't make me go by myself. Please."

"You should have gone with Al."

"I couldn't." Jayne swiped hair out of her eyes, drawing Rose's attention to the fact that she was wearing it down around her face for the first time in nearly... ever. Not only that, but her blue eyes were exaggerated and dark with make-up, and Jayne was wearing a skirt. As someone who understood just how difficult a transformation could be, not just the act of doing but the courage to step out as someone other than who people expected you to be, Rose couldn't possibly make light of Jayne's changed appearance. But it was strange. Something was definitely going on, and the fidgeting way Jayne played with the sleeve of her jumper suggested that she required Rose's presence for more than just company. It ate at her to say no, but she did.

"They need me here. How would it look if I just pranced down to the village instead of doing my job?"

"It would look like you had a life, actually. Like you had interests other than school work. Like... you were my friend." Jayne crossed her arms under her ribcage, her expression cross. "Nevermind. When Rosie's mind is made up..."

"I'll go next time." She probably wouldn't. If she was the only prefect responsible enough to watch the common room, then she would continue to be required here. True as.

"You won't. It doesn't matter. I wanted you this time." And Jayne left with a very neat flip to her short hair. If Rose hadn't known that Jayne never wore her hair down, she'd believe it had been well rehearsed.

Rose finished her work, including the History of Magic essay that wasn't due for nearly a month, and she chased the first and second years down to the Great Hall for lunch. It had been a productive morning, and now she was free to relax in the common room with an interesting text until everyone returned at dinner time. If only that blue sky wasn't so very pretty and so very tempting... Rose sighed, tugging her plaited hair into a blindfold across her face. Now, she couldn't see a thing, and she wasn't remotely tempted to shirk her responsibilities and skip off to Hogsmeade. Even though it was the perfect time of year for spiced pumpkin cider at the Three Broomsticks, and she really wanted to look for a new quill after breaking the point on her favorite during Potions.

Did Jayne have a point? Were the actions that were intended to prove she was a responsible prefect and the perfect candidate for Head Girl also showing the world that she lacked depth and caring? Was being a super prefect perhaps preventing her from being a good friend? And did Headmaster Flitwick even look at those other qualities? She'd made a long list over the summer of those things she believed were most important qualities for the Head Girl to have, and compassion and balance were on that list. Surely that meant that locking herself up in the common room as if on punishment was actually a detriment to her chances at getting the position she desired.

Why couldn't it be easy? Why couldn't Flitwick just lay out his expectations for them in a clear and organized fashion, or assign a point system? Why did she have to spend all this effort trying to figure out what she must do in order for other people to realize what she'd known since she first came to Hogwarts - there was no one better suited to the position of Head Girl than Rose Weasley? She'd known since she was 11 that she wanted to be Head Girl, but it had only been in more recent years that Rose had realized the position wouldn't fall to her simply because she wanted it. Or even because she deserved it. Somehow, she had to prove that she was the only person who could do the job in their entire year.

It wasn't as if she wanted it for selfish reasons, either. Perhaps she was a little selfish, because she liked to be in charge, but there was more than that. A Weasley getting made prefect or Head wasn't exactly a new thing anymore, not with six cousins ahead of her in school over the last 13 years. Since Vic had made Ravenclaw prefect, there had been a Weasley in charge somewhere in the school every year since. There was no possible way Rose could distinguish herself simply by being another Weasley head anything, nor would she want to coast along on title alone. Fred was making a fool of himself doing just that. No, Rose had plans to make a legacy at Hogwarts. She would be remembered, the way her parents were remembered. She would not be just another Weasley.

The trouble with wanting a legacy was twofold. For the first trouble, that she had to be chosen as Head Girl, Rose already had her plan in place, and it was a simple one. Be awesome. Be so completely awesome that the other female sixth year prefects, Zabini and Egerton and Puckeridge, paled in comparison. It was probably bold of her, but she felt like that was the easy part. The second trouble was less easy to resolve: she could only have a legacy as Head Girl if her corresponding Head Boy was cooperative. No one like Fred, who was content just to ride out the year with an extra shiny badge pinned to his robes. And definitely no one like Shacklebolt, who was a glory hog and had plans of his own. No, Rose had vetted every possible male, and there was only one person she could trust to help with her legacy. There was only one person with which she was willing to share leadership: Albus Severus Potter. It had to be Al. She'd known it since the summer when she'd spent time creating pro and con lists, flowcharts, and checklists to facilitate her planning process. So what if he didn't think he wanted it? So what if he wasn't currently a prefect or otherwise acting as leader in the school? This was her Al. She hadn't been able to do a thing when Longbottom and Flitwick passed him over for prefect, although it had caused her a great deal of pain. In spite of the fact that Al acted as if he wasn't bothered, he was still the first Weasley in this generation not to be promoted to leadership. It probably hurt him terribly. If she looked at it from a certain angle, Al as Head Boy would right some very great wrongs. So there again... it wasn't as if she was being selfish. She needed a Head Boy that would always be on her side, and Al needed to be Head Boy so that he'd have a legacy at Hogwarts. If that wasn't perfect symmetry, then Rose didn't know what was.

Sigh. She peeked at the blue sky again, now showing the trailing end of some wispy cloud. Heading to Hogsmeade was the mark of a well-adjusted witch, right? Wasn't that what Jayne had suggested? And sitting here in the common room was clearly allowing Rose far too much time in her own head. Without the journal she'd left hidden in the library (still without protective enchantments... she really needed to rectify that soon), she could only torture herself for so long before she snapped, and her rolling around on the floor playing Destroy the Common Room by herself wasn't going to garner her any support in the quest to be Head Girl. Her mind was made up.

Stretching out like a cat in the sun, Rose uncurled slowly from her spot on the couch and padded toward the dormitory stairs. There was still time to enjoy the afternoon in the village.

Nicely done guys. I loved both of these chapters.

God for you Rose! Go to the village!! Have your fun! Ali approves!

I love that chapter! Well done Ern! You two are just amazing!

*responding to both chapters because yolo*

I got much too amused by the Wuthering Heights reference, and Scorp understanding it. Maybe because I've read the book too but anyway... And amused by the journal entries as well. I totally get the boring thing. Honestly that's why I don't keep a journal.

And I second Ali. Go to the village Rose. Because I sense that you'll miss things if you don't.

You two are flawless. Flaw. Less.

I envy your talent greatly, the craftsmanship of the characters and plot is so well done.

5.2 Hogsmeade Meet-ups

The well-worn path to Hogsmeade wound back and forth from the Hogwarts gate, occasionally bending on itself in hairpin turns and hiding the path ahead. It was currently deserted, although Rose had spotted someone on the path ahead of her early on her hike. But the air was crisp and clear, and since she paused to pick up handfuls of autumn leaves, her fellow traveler soon outpaced her, disappearing around one of the hairpins and never reappearing. For the remainder of her trot down the hill, Rose was alone. She didn't mind it a bit. Nature was harder to enjoy in company, especially if that company was intent on hurrying or kicking up the leaves or making as much noise as possible.

The leaves she collected were tied together into an autumnal garland, and when she tired of that activity, the garland was left to decorate a particularly pathetic sapling right beside the path. The smell of wood smoke drifted up the hillside, and Rose paused at a break in the trees to look down at the thatched roof village. Hogsmeade was easily the most picturesque village Rose had seen, and it remained so through every season. Some preferred the snow-capped thatch in winter, but Rose found this autumn moment to be more idyllic, with smoke spiraling up through the reds and oranges of autumn leaves. From up here, she couldn’t hear the sound of students shouting at each other up and down the street, and it was easy to believe the place was as pristine as it looked.

Her reverie broke as soon as she entered the village, when a squabbling group of third years required her mediation over their Honeydukes purchase. They had more candy than they could carry, and Rose earned herself a sugar quill for her help. Sucking the feathery end, Rose took the long way through the village in order to avoid the High Street preferred by her classmates. It wasn't that she was avoiding anyone, but the quiet felt so good to her, like air to someone who didn't even know they were drowning, and she wanted it to last as long as possible. The fall chill left her pale cheeks pink and ruffled her curls, but Rose felt too content to worry over the state of her hair. Leaving the castle had been such a good idea that all the mental gymnastics she'd required to justify it now seemed ridiculous. She was days ahead in her schoolwork, weeks ahead in some cases, and a little break was needed.

As she licked a sticky spot from her thumb, movement drew her attention to a figure darting from an alley between two cottages. Rose didn't have time to react before a hand latched around her wrist, forcing her to drop the sugar quill, and Yates Shacklebolt pulled her sharply back toward the side street from which he'd just appeared. "I thought I saw you coming into Hogsmeade, but then you disappeared on me. Come with me." Rose dug in her feet and put up a struggle, but Yates was much bigger than she was and Rose couldn't find her balance. Against her will, she was dragged out of sight of the street into the shadows of prim cottages.

"I don't want to go anywhere with you." By some small miracle, she pulled her wrist free from his grip and skittered away like a hermit crab, moving sideways in mincing steps. Perhaps he hadn't been trying to act the brute, but her shoulder ached and the skin of her wrist was red and chafed. She'd need to apply a poultice before a bruise was able to bloom.

At least there wasn’t an audience, as in Potions class, for Rose to put on her more charming manners, and she openly scowled in Yates’ direction. In her world, one did not manhandle a girl, unless that girl was one’s cousin or sibling and one was trying to torture information out of her. Totally different thing.

“Why are you being like this?” Yates appeared genuinely puzzled, but Rose would not waver. He was contemptible, in her opinion, and any behavior that indicated otherwise was an act. Others might be fooled by Shacklebolt, but she saw through him. His disarming baby face was giving way to the more chiseled features of a handsome man, and his smile was a fleeting gift when bestowed, but all Rose could see was someone who took things that didn’t belong to him.

Step by step, Rose backed toward the street, keeping her arms well out of his reach. There would be no more manhandling, and no amount of charming smiles or befuddled looks would entice her to stay. “I’m not being like anything, Shacklebolt. I don’t like to be grabbed.”

“You could do with grabbing on occasion.” His expression was benign, but Rose felt dirty, as if he was leering at her behind that geniality. “Just come with me. I’ll stay this far away from you the whole time.” He measured out the distance with his hands. It wasn’t enough. Rose wanted continents between them. Planets, if they were able.

“I’m meeting someone.” It was only mostly a lie. Al was somewhere in Hogsmeade, and she hoped to catch up with him and Jayne before heading back up to the castle. Of course, they were easier to find on the High Street, but she planned to check the Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes and had faith Al would be in one or the other.

“Who? Malfoy?” If Rose had a camera, everyone could see the ugly expression twist across Yates’ features. As it was, she felt a surge of guilty joy at being able to make him unhappy enough to drop the façade. Who knew Malfoy brought out that side of Yates? If only she’d realized it sooner, Rose would have taunted him with it long ago. She would happily sit next to Malfoy morning, noon, and night for the privilege of making Yates squirm.

“I don’t choose to share my personal business with you, Shacklebolt.” Her skittering landed her back in the street, and relief flooded Rose. The alley had been shadowed by the overhanging thatch from adjacent cottages, giving the still space an oppressive feeling that was dispelled by sunlight and laughter from down the street.

“You used to be more personable. Whatever happened to that Rose Weasley?” Yates stayed back from the street, the sunlight falling in patches across his face and shoulders.

Personable, was it? That was a word for the little foolish child that had once considered Yates Shacklebolt to be a trusted friend, counted with Al and Jayne as one of her favorite people in Gryffindor house. He hadn’t been worthy of that trust. “We all grow up sometime.”

Without a backward look, Rose cut across the street in the direction of the shops and the rest of the students visiting Hogsmeade. Yates wouldn’t chase her; he’d made his hesitancy to be seen with her very clear by pulling her out of sight and refusing to follow her back into the street. In a perfect world, Rose could use this strange new goal he had of trying to get her alone and his equal desire not to be seen with her in public to her own advantage. Those two instincts of Yates' were at cross purposes, and it would take very little nudging to get him to screw up at his own twisted game. While Rose had absolutely no desire to spend any more time than necessary in his company, there was something to be said for the sacrifices one made for the greater good. In this case, the greater good was Al's, since she considered Yates to be his major competition for Head Boy. She needed to discredit Yates, and she needed to take from him all the things that made him a good candidate for Head Boy.

What did he have that he could lose? He had his famous father and Kingsley Shacklebolt's pristine reputation, but there was no way she could touch the Minister of Magic. Nor would she want to. Much as Rose disliked Yates, the entire Weasley side of her family was on good terms with his father. Rose herself had met the man several times, and she liked him. She certainly thought he was good at his job, especially as the Wizarding world had unprecedented peace for the last 25 years, most of which he'd been in office. If anyone thought it was time for some fresh blood to take over to invigorate the political process, they weren't saying it outloud. Or they weren't saying it outloud to her. But aside from a famous father (and really... who DIDN'T have one of those these days?), Yates had other things that were easier for her to impact. His grades were good, nearly as good as Rose's, and the professors liked him. Was there a way to ruin his grades without drawing suspicion? Or to change his relationship with the professors that had the most influence over the Head Boy decision?

The real advantage Yates had was the good will of the other students. For the most part, he was well liked and respected. He was the one, for instance, that could tell the common room to settle down and head for bed, and they would do it and seem almost cheerful in the process. When Rose tried the same tact, the students grumbled the entire way, treating Rose as if she was purposefully being a joy killer. She did not LIKE killing joy, but sometimes joy killing was in the job description. If the students could only see Yates as he really was, as Rose knew him to be, then no one could believe he was capable of leading them. They'd stop following, he'd lose his influence, and the job would be as good as Al's. That was the best route, then - she needed to discredit Yates among his peers.

He also had that pretty Ravenclaw girlfriend Mei Wyman. Some considered her to be the prettiest in sixth year with her pixie-cut dark hair swishing over liquid black eyes. She and Yates had been dating since the end of their fourth year. For reasons that Rose could not fathom, having a likeable girlfriend that other boys drooled over was somehow another boon for Yates, another reason he was worth looking up to. It was in Mei's own interest to find out what sort of boyfriend Yates was, and Rose didn't mind in the least helping that knowledge along. She was just being a good person, after all.

Her resolve strengthened as she ate up the avenue with purposeful strides, and when she hit the High Street, Rose felt confident in her abilities. She didn't have any of the specifics, or even a plan really, but she had the desire. Sometimes that was more than enough. The plan would come later, and it would likely involve several highly detailed lists.

There were students spilling out of Zonko's and Honeydukes, but Rose skipped both establishments. It was possible Al was loading up on sweets, but he tended to save his shopping until the end of his visit to Hogsmeade. Just down the street, Madam Puddifoot's was crowded, mostly with sixth and seventh year couples taking advantage of their limited opportunities to go on anything that qualified as a 'date' during the school year. A few younger students crept in, too, out of curiosity and a desire to appear more mature. Through the front window, Rose spotted Mei waiting alone at a table, book in hand, and assumed the Ravenclaw was waiting on Yates. The idea that she might run into him again propelled Rose further down the street in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. At the very least, she could get her spiced pumpkin cider.

Inside, the Three Broomsticks was as crowded as she'd ever seen it. Scorpius Malfoy was ensconced in one corner with Tamsin Urquhart, and Rose gagged a bit over the way they seemed so wrapped up in each other. According to precedent, Malfoy would be wrapped up in a different girl on each subsequent visit to Hogsmeade. Or so she heard; it wasn't as if Rose spent any amount of time worrying about who was taking who to Hogsmeade. Most of the other tables were occupied by small groups of students enjoying a respite from their shopping and general escape from the castle, although the Gryffindor Quidditch team had shoved together tables opposite the bar and was making more than their share of a ruckus. It was a wonder Malfoy could stand to be in the same room with all that showboating, as Rose herself could barely stomach it. The entire team was there, aside from Yates, and they looked to have settled in for the long term, considering the number of bottles on the table.

Fred spotted Rose as she entered, and he managed to get the table to chant her name until she had her cider in hand and had crossed the room to join them. Not that she was staying for any length of time, but at least she'd managed to track down Jayne and Al. Jayne sat squashed in beside Rox and Fred, and she was in constant danger of getting an elbow to the head with all the arm flailing Fred was doing. In spite of the danger, her friend seemed remarkably unaffected by the hubbub around her. Her hair had been scraped back up into a ponytail and her eyes were smudgy. She looked miserable. Al didn't look much better. Seated at the end of the table beside James, Al's expression was sulky and cross. It was remarkable that the two of them managed to be so unhappy when everyone else at the table was practically exploding from high spirits.

Despite the best of her intentions and vociferous denials that she would NOT be staying, Rose was pulled in to share the bench with Jayne and Rox and subjected to toasts proposed by James, then Fred, then Aiden McLaggen, and then Rox, who proceeded to spill her butterbeer in the process. It set them all to laughing again, and Jayne took that moment to put her mouth to Rose's ear.

"I have to get out of here." Up close, Jayne's eyes were red. Rose was a very bad friend, she decided. In the space of time since Jayne had tried to drag Rose from the common room until this moment, something had happened to upset the one person in the world Rose believed it impossible to upset. Jayne was stoic in the way the only girl in a house full of boys had to be. She didn't embarrass easily. She didn't panic easily. And she didn't even cry when a Bludger gave her a concussion last year, and Madame Hooch made her sit out the rest of the game.

Rose finished her cider and shoved the glass to the middle of the table with all the empty bottles. "Sorry, lads. And Rox. I'm stealing Jayne for a while. We're going to talk about girl things," she informed Al pointedly when he started to rise. He scowled at them both as he fell back into his seat. It must have been a day for people to act out of character, because Rose could count on one hand the number of times he'd been cross with her. Was there something in the butterbeer?

They had barely crossed the threshold of the Three Broomsticks and let the door shut behind them when Jayne put her face in her hands. Rose had a suspicion that her friend was actually crying right here on the street in Hogsmeade, in front of strangers and Slytherins and everything. When a tear leaked through her fingers and dripped to the pavement, Rose caught up Jayne's shoulder and propelled the girl around the corner onto a little side street that was devoid of snoops. Whatever this was didn't need to be shared with the entire school, although Rose had a sinking suspicion it would be. People just couldn't mind their own anymore.

"I'm really sorry, Jayne." Rose carried a number of clean handkerchiefs on her at all times, and she pressed one of these into Jayne's hands. Jayne, in turn, scrubbed at her face with it, leaving both her cheeks and the cloth streaked in dark make-up.

"Not... your fault," Jayne hiccupped. She offered the handkerchief back, and Rose waved it away. "H-he asked me to Hogsmeade."

And now they were to the meat of the issue, whatever it was. "Who did?"

"J-James."

Huh. James. In a million years, Rose wouldn't have suspected that. Not James asking, not Jayne accepting. It was all very mysterious, this whole romance thing, and completely past the point of logic. They really ought to write a book about it, but a credible one that was devoid of stupid things like heaving bosoms and palpitating hearts. Those things didn't really happen. "Well. That was nice of him."

"H-he asked e-everyone," Jayne managed before hiccuping into the once-white square of cloth again. Rose patted her arm. So it wasn't really the romance thing at work here, or not entirely. It was the James being a complete dunce thing, and it was the Jayne being embarrassed thing. But not romance. Right? Merlin, any girl would have said yes to a date with James Potter, if they thought they were being asked on a proper one. Especially Jayne, who would have enjoyed talking Quidditch with her team captain.

"It's going to be okay." Rose patted Jayne's arm again, and her voice hardened with resolve. Above all things, Rose was a fixer. She could fix this too.

"I don't think so," Jayne seemed to have collected herself, and she scrubbed at her face with the pathetic little handkerchief. Rose offered assistance, pointing out where dark smudges lingered on her friend's face. "I'm so stupid. I-I thought it was a date."

Her lip wobbled again, and Rose held up a finger, commanding the wobble to stop. "But no one knew you thought it was, right? You just looked extra beautiful today. And next Hogsmeade weekend, you'll have a real date, and not with any of those dung-for-brains."

Jayne blinked at Rose, clearly confused. "I will? I don't..."

"You will," Rose said firmly, rescuing her handkerchief at long last. "I'm going to find you one."

Fantastic as always! I was so excited to see a new chapter.

I've decided I ship Albus and Jayne. So it shall be for so it is written.

5.3 Have Something Orange
Less than a week after the first Hogsmeade Weekend and Halloween fever had begun to spread at Hogwarts, particularly amongst the younger students who seemed to go a little bit mad participating in the Halloween related activities that had been cooked up by the faculty. Jack-o-lanterns, apple bobbing, and decorating the Great Hall with orange streamers and live bats were all part of the line up in the days immediately preceding Halloween, and speculation about what entertainment would be provided at the feast became a popular pastime for those students not madly studying or preparing for the upcoming Quidditch season, due to start with a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin on the upcoming Saturday. A week. Scorpius reminded himself. One week to get his team ready. They'd been selected only a few weeks ago and were still getting that balance of playing together. His new Seeker, Coraline Shettigar was good but inexperienced. All teams save Gryfffindor had a brand spanking new Seeker in their line ups, but that didn't help Scorpius since they'd be facing Gryffindor first and even though James Potter wasn't as much of a dynamo on the field as he thought he was, he did have experience and that counted for a lot.

It was Wednesday now and Scorpius had just finished running a harrowing practice for the Slytherins. Most of his team preferred to go straight to the Great Hall for dinner and eat in their Quidditch robes, but Scorpius always showered first and so he pushed open the double doors and stepped into the hall a little late but refreshed, hair still slightly damp from bathing. He'd not bothered with robes, though he changed back into the rest of his school uniform, sleeves rolled up neatly and tie pulled a little loose, but otherwise fresh and crisp and not crumpled at all despite being at the end of the day. It was, of course, a rule to come to meal times in your uniform. Quidditch robes were the only acceptable alternative. Luckily small talk was unnecessary since most everyone was stuffing their faces at this point of the meal, though boisterous conversation could still be heard in different degrees from all four tables as an accompaniment to the food.

It wasn't even quite Halloween yet but it seemed to Scorpius that there was an inordinate amount of food that was incredibly and disgustingly orange. He found colour coordinated food to be unsettling and eyed it in mild distaste as he tried to decide what to eat first.

"What did the pumpkin pie ever do to you, Scorchie?" Acantha stretched past several other students in order to rub his hair as she addressed him, causing several strands of it to stand up straight from the resulting static. It was baby fine and since it was drying unevenly, most of it stayed put, which Scorp was thankful for. Still, he was in an alright mood and managed a smile at his oldest cousin.

"Nothing its just that all that orange tricks my mind into thinking everything tastes exactly the same. Its never as good when it all blends together on your plate. Everything is better with a bit of variety." Scorpius was filling his plate even as he spoke and glanced up at her grimace of mock horror.

"Perish the thought, Scorch!" There was that nickname again. "Some things would be far better if there were less colours invading the spectrum. For instance, if the entire school was full of Slytherin students." She gestured grandly and somehow the movement dissolved into a sinuous stretch that had much of the male population at the Slytherin table and nearby Ravenclaw table, turning to look.

A grunt from nearby. "You'd get bored, Zabini." It was Montague, seventh year prefect and one of the Slytherin Beaters. He had a point, Scorpius thought.

"I wouldn't." She insisted. "It would be lovely."

Scorpius followed the superior look that she directed across the hall and decided that she could only be eyeing the Head Boy who was currently in a competition with several delighted looking first and second years, trying to eat their food from their plates without using their hands. Or, well, from what Scorpius could see, they were using their hands, only to do things completely unrelated to the process of eating. Things like a sudden burst of spontaneous applause, or tickling the person next to them or -was Fred Weasley trying to juggle?- how odd. Scorpius tore his eyes away and measured Acantha's disgusted expression as Hugo Weasley leaned over and dumped an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice over the Head Boy's dark curls, some pulp sticking there in little globules that didn't seem to bother the boy in the slightest. Fred simply kept eating and then sat up, fists in the air as if he'd apparently won some sort of contest. There were cheers from the Gryffindor table and Scorp decided that Merpeople made far more sense than Gryffindors when it came to how they kept one another entertained.

"On second thoughts, perhaps you're right about all that orange, Scorpius."

He licked some sauce from the pad of his thumb and eyed Acantha askance, choosing not to comment. A rattle of chains directed the conversation elsewhere as the Bloody Baron made an appearance down the table and chose a seat next to a terrified looking first year who clutched their goblet with a death grip that turned their knuckles white. Nera, who was sitting at that end, surrounded by a gaggle of Slytherin girls, reached over and neatly plucked the poor abused goblet from the child's hand and gave him a comforting smile before greeting the Baron with delight. Nera had taken to the Baron immediately upon meeting the blood-coated ghost and Scorpius still privately thought she was mad for it. It wasn't that Scorpius disliked ghosts, he just found them unnecessary and tended to avoid them where he could. He certainly had not chosen to take up Ghoul Studies, an after hours class which was available for those few NEWT students who thought they might be interested. Nera said they mostly sat around and chatted with those spirits which called Hogwarts home. Scorpius imagined it would be much like spending time talking to elderly relatives who had rambling, nonsensical stories punctuated with names of people who had died before you were born and it was never quite clarified if said dead people were important to the story or relevant to you in any way. Nera informed him he was mistaken and actually it was much like History of Magic and that it was a pity he hadn't signed up because she was sure that he'd enjoy it immensely.

Sometimes Scorpius wondered if she really knew him at all.

Instead of Ghoul Studies, Scorpius had chosen to take an after hours Alchemy class which would be tonight before curfew. With only a handful of other sixth years since it was an elective course that required high grades in Potions and Charms as well as written permission to participate from the individual student's Head of House. Atra had allowed Scorp to attend with very little convincing needed. That was a man aware completely of the strengths and weaknesses of all the students under his care and guidance. His mind wandered even as he continued his dinner, eating with careful manners that were almost out of place in the rowdy Great Hall where savages were only barely kept in line by those prefects who hadn't quite descended into the same madness.

"What is she looking at I wonder?" Acantha was still watching the Gryffindor table and she snapped her teeth threateningly. It would have been alarming if it hadn't been funny. Scorpius grinned at his cousin and then followed her line of sight, trying to figure out who she was currently staring down. Lily Potter. Fourth year. Scorpius always thought she looked rather vapid.

"Aww, leave her be, Acantha. She's probably heard a million and one horror stories about us by now." Scorpius leaned past Acantha's dorm mates, Jora Cram and Archana Kartik to slide her a slice of pie. "Here, have something orange, it will make you feel better."

Acantha eyed him. "You have something orange, Scorpius. You're looking peaky." She leaned past her fellow seventh years and placed a goblet of pumpkin juice in front of him.

"Oh no, I insist." Scorp's next offering was a spoonful of mashed carrot, which he grandly served to Acantha's plate. "It goes so well with your badge."

"I think it goes better with your own badge, Scorchiepants." Oh she was so sweet. Dripping with it. Next to him Archana stiffled a laugh, presumably at the nickname and Scorpius wondered if the girl knew its origins. It wouldn't surprise him.

He presented an apricot to her with a flourish and from there it only got more and more ridiculous until both of them had plates stacked with a horrifying mix of orange food that did not go together in the slightest, and several other students had joined in .

"No you have something orange."

"Oh no, I insist. Orange for you."

Scorpius was laughing by the time it was done and he vanished the plateful of food in front of him, unable to look at the quickly congealing, orange mess of it.

From the Ravenclaw table, where they had earned an audience, Christine Macmillian, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, turned to face him and leaned towards the Slytherin table

"Oh poor deprived Slytherins, you don't even know how to have a food fight properly." Her husky voice was teasing and her eyes sparkled as she spoke up to be heard. She was actually the only one of his fellow Captains this term that Scorpius didn't outright hate. It had been no surprise when she was appointed to replace Billy Boot.

"Maybe not in a traditional sense." Scorpius licked a stray fluff of mashed carrot from the knuckle of his pinky finger, unconcerned by what was good natured ribbing. If it were Sloper or Potter he'd show them how well he could throw food. Oh wait, he'd already shown Potter that this term. He smiled again. "But our way is less messy isn't it? Think of it this way, Ravenclaw table, being in close proximity to our own, would likely suffer some collateral damage. So its purely out of the goodness of our collective, slimy hearts that we adjusted the rules. For you, Ravenclaw." He gestured widely, including Mei Wyman, Gracie Egerton and Alyson Sutton in the motion and good naturedly smiling at them all. He stood up and walked around the end of the table, then took up a seat on the opposite side, though he faced the Ravenclaws and kept his back to his own table as it began to empty.

"I would hate to get pumpkin in my hair. You're my hero, Malfoy." Christine told him, rolling her eyes.

"Mine too." Mei added and giggled prettily, attempting to wind a short, glossy lock around her finger, but her pixie cut made the motion next to impossible.

"As long as you don't make a mess." Gracie sounded doubtful, but a hesitant smile curled her lips.

Alyson was the only one who didn't seem amused. She sniffed and pouted and tried to pretend like she was doing something else, but Scorpius was used to that now. He'd learned the previous year that dumping a Ravenclaw wasn't easy and tended to have lingering results. It was like she'd taken it personally or something.

"Did you finish the pre-reading for class, Scorpius?" Mei leaned towards him to ask.

But before he could answer, an interruption in the form of Yates Shacklebolt appeared between the two tables and Scorpius forced himself to give the Gryffindor a pleasant smile, which contrasted nicely and made Shacklebolt's glower look unreasonable.

"Come on, Mei." He battled to ignore Scorpius. "We're going to the library." Shacklebolt did have smiles for Mei, but they seemed forced in Scorp's eyes. Mei Wyman was all sweet smiles as she extracted herself from the Ravenclaw table and hooked her arm around Shacklebolt's.

"I'll see you later, Scorpius." She told him and Scorp's eyes immediately flickered to Yates's face, even as he answered.

"Right. Eight sharp. I'll save you a seat." Possibly he was pushing it and Yates would snap. Possibly it was worth it. Mei was in Scorp's Alchemy class, as was Gracie who she usually sat with. The Ravenclaw prefect was currently sitting there looking sweetly confused, eyes flicking between the others and finally coming to a rest on Shacklebolt as he shot Scorpius a dirty look and led his girlfriend away.

They all watched their retreating backs and Scorpius was surprised when Gracie spoke.

"I don't like him." She said thoughtfully.

Christine and Alyson looked equally surprised and Scorpius decided it was time to take his own leave rather than hang around and hear the way the two girls defended Yates and sung his praises. He left the Great Hall without saying goodbye and was almost immediately tackled by Barnaby Goyle. It was a friendly tackle but it still almost wiped Scorpius off his feat. Goyle could be a bit like a trained crup sometimes. He even got violent on cue. Apollo was standing nearby, grinning in a way that had Scorpius assuming that he'd put the bigger boy up to it.

"You should shower. He told Goyle. Who was still in his Quidditch gear. It was partly a dismissal as he started towards the common room.

"So." Apollo fell into step beside him. "Are you ever going to explain that whole Scorchiepants business?" Apollo gave a stray jack-o-lantern a kick and sent it careening into the wall, where it imploded, the candle within extinguishing itself immediately. Safety charms. Apollo ignored it. Scorpius shook his head and straightened his tie.

"Not any time soon." Nobody needed to know that.

---
Also, for the shippers

OMGOMGOMGOMG.

I am so so so very glad I caught up, even if it is a million years later. You all know how much I love this fix.

Acantha Zabini is bae.

Also, Gracie. "I don't like him." Ugh. What a perfect, concise statement to sum Yates Shacklebolt up perfectly.

Brilliant job again, guys. I LOVE YOU BOTH.

6.1 easier to find if you’re a little lost
"Tams, would you mind moving just a little bit?" Scorpius, growing a bit exasperated, turned to the Slytherin girl, who was practically in his lap, and severely impeding his intention to eat breakfast. He was mostly lost in thought, ruminating over the Quidditch loss so he didn’t see Tamsin gaping at him as if she was surprised that he wasn’t somehow flattered by her attempts to distract him. He glanced up and elaborated in a carefully polite voice, "I'd quite like my leg back, it is a bit numb, and really I'm much too tired to do anything-" he paused as he mentally decided what to start with "-apart from eat."

There were a few quiet snickers at the shutdown, but Scorpius barely noticed. The sixth year was torn between blaming himself and internally raging about his teammates. He certainly wasn’t interested in snogging Tamsin Urquhart right then. He didn’t want a consolation prize; he wanted to win Quidditch games. It’d be easier to blame the other Slytherin players or perhaps mentally justify the loss by accusing that blasted James Potter and the other Gryffindor players of cheating somehow, but realistically he knew that was futile. They’d played better. It was simple, and really as captain Scorpius was just as responsible for any of his team member’s weaknesses as they were as individuals. He was certainly the one who would be taking the fall so to speak. Slytherin’s student leaders had regular meetings and his peers would hold him accountable.

The draw meant that it’d be a few weekends before they were due to play again, plenty of time to really work on what wasn’t working. He felt so on edge, like he was going to implode or something, but he was so tired that he was sure he didn’t have the energy for it. The strange part about it all was that he was sure there was a moment there, during the game, where he’d just flaked out, his thoughts had wandered elsewhere. He had suddenly been thinking of a different game, a different time, and while getting lost in a memory wasn’t a bad thing exactly, there was a time and a place for daydreaming. He had to brush it off; he wouldn’t let it happen again. His tension was obvious to the more observant of his housemates, obviously Tamsin wasn’t one of those people and she pointedly moved a few seats away, in a snit with him.

Scorpius found a trace of resolve and proceeded to eat, trying to ignore everyone or risk having a fit. On the surface he appeared calm and collected, even distant. Apollo was watching him closely but hadn't yet said a thing. During the match it had been as if he was transported back to his very first Quidditch game, in second year. He felt the same rush of excitement and nerves, and for a second or two he could have sworn that Ryuu Haneda, his former Quidditch Captain was there and shouting orders. But the only Haneda there had been Takeshi of course. Despite spacing out for a few minutes, Scorp had managed a couple of goals, but he'd had to work hard for them, scoring only twice off four attempts. Unusual for him. Pucey had managed three and Hightower four. The game hadn't been lost due to lack of scoring ability, it was simply because James Potter had caught the snitch before Slytherin's Coraline Shettigar could even blink. She was subdued at the end of the table, the third year clearly taking the defeat hard, blaming herself. She sported more than a few bruises since Potter wasn't one to go easy on a fellow seeker just because they were younger and smaller and had nudged her out of the way a few times. It was hard having a brand new seeker but he had faith in his ability to put a team together. If she wasn't good enough it meant he shouldn't have picked her. His responsibility. She was good enough though. Scorp vowed to work with her. Help her find that confidence.

There was silence at the Slytherin table. Coming down from the high of the previous term’s Quidditch cup win wasn’t an experience that any Slytherin relished, and in the case of the snakes, false commiseration was unwelcome. The entire team, those who had played and those who had been on the bench, were varying degrees of sullen and snappish. Hearing the cheerful and boisterous voices of the Gryffindors didn’t much help matters. Scorpius knew he should say something, but he couldn't bring himself to search for the words yet. In fact, he actually quite liked the idea of being alone with his thoughts. Being as his morning was free, Scorpius buttered some toast and added honey, then took his breakfast with him as he left the great hall. The library would probably be pretty quiet, it was still early.

It didn't take long for Scorpius to get there, and he headed right to a certain dusty section where there just so happened to be a journal hidden away. He needed something mindless to distract him from everything, preferably something mindless that didn't talk back, which was why an inanimate object was a good choice. He hooked the journal out of its hiding place and rather than sit there amongst the dusty magical language books, he tucked it under his arm and found a comfortable chair right under the stained glass windows, choosing an out-of-the-way corner so that he would be relatively unexposed and hopefully left alone. He sat down and opened the book, choosing to pick up where he had left off. It was boring, sure, but that was exactly what he needed right at that moment.

1 September 2017

Dinner:
Too much to list!!!

I don’t think I ever really believed Dad’s stories about the food at Hogwarts, but truly, I’ve never seen so much food in my entire life. Not even at family Christmas, when the house is so stuffed with people that we have to set up tents in the backyard, and Gram spends days working on that Christmas dinner.

Huh. Scorpius couldn't imagine living in a house so small that people would need to stay in tents outside. He also couldn't imagine ever having enough family visit that would make it an issue.

The best part about the feast, though, is that it comes after the Sorting. I felt so ill when we got off the train, and J was just making it worse by telling horrible LIES about what we were going to have to go through. Even thought I knew exactly what was going to happen, I was still nervous. Dad was kidding when he said I had to get into Gryffindor, but that’s still the house I wanted.

Ravenclaw wouldn’t be bad, I suppose. Hufflepuffs seem terribly friendly and gave all their new housemates a standing ovation as they were sorted, but I think I’d find it dreadful. Dad says you can’t trust people who smile that much, not to mention they have to wear so much yellow! Forget what they say about redheads and pink - yellow makes me look like I’m suffering jaundice.

In spite of Dad, I think Slytherin wouldn’t be half bad. I'm pretty sure that's where A expected to end up, and I really only wanted to be with him in the end. Besides, no one in our family has been a Slytherin for ages, so there wouldn’t be any comparing. Downside, of course, is they probably get trained at birth to hate us. Little flash cards of who to glare at over dinner every night, which is silly since I only just met the lot and they shouldn’t have reason not to like me yet.

I met one on the train, only briefly, called Nera Zabini. I actually had the thought that she seemed just the sort of girl that might be an interesting friend, but then her sister saw J and said, “Oh, that’s a WEASLEY” like it was a disease or something. And they hurried away as if being ginger and freckled was catching. Rude.

Scorpius had his eyes narrowed at the hypocrisy of the idea that Slytherins were the judgmental ones. It was just part of their nature not to immediately trust people who were too reckless, too friendly, or too smart for their own good. And from what he knew from talking to his parents and grandparents, all of whom had been Slytherin, things were different now. He couldn't say better exactly, but for sure it seemed to Scorpius that being Slytherin or from a Slytherin family automatically lost you brownie points in the eyes of anyone who considered themselves or their family to be on the winning side in the last war, regardless of whether or not the Slytherin individual had anything to do with any of it personally. He was thinking about this so busily that at first he did not pick up on the mention of red hair, which would have begun to narrow the field about who owned the journal since there weren't a great number of them. Scorpius kept reading and let out an exclamation both at mention of Nera and the revelation that this particular journal belonged to a Weasley. He sat bolt upright and stared at the page in horror, blinking not at the words but at the general thought that he'd been reading... well his year, it had to be Rose Weasley's diary. He flipped back and skimmed the parts he'd read already. So A was Albus Potter, J was James Potter, H had to be Hugo Weasley and was L the little one? Lily Potter? Merlin.

He let out a breath and slouched back in the chair again, not entirely sure if he wanted insight into Rose Weasley's mind, despite the fact that he hadn't quite figured out what in Salazar's name had actually driven her sit with him in potions class back before try outs. He'd decided to be done worrying about that but now he found that he'd been reading her bloody diary! He told himself that the only reason that he was going to keep reading -just to the end of the entry mind you- was because it had mentioned Nera and he owed it to his cousin to make sure that Weasley didn't say anything she shouldn't about his cousin. A deep breath and he eyed the page again.

I did meet a nice girl called Jayne while we were still on the train. At first, I thought she was the dullest person I ever met, and I hoped she’d be a Hufflepuff and have to wear yellow forever. She complained for a full ten minutes about how unfair it was that first years couldn’t have a broom at Hogwarts and then she fell asleep on A’s robes, so he couldn’t get changed right away!

But then she got sorted to Gryffindor with A and me, and she told the FUNNIEST story about the time she went to a Quidditch match and the Snitch got caught up under the bleachers. The winning Seeker thought to use his broom as a lever to pry up the seating, and just as the Snitch escaped so he could catch it, his broom splintered. She even had F and J laughing, and J said she was a pip.

Anyway, the Sorting: A went ahead of me, of course, and when he made it into Gryffindor, I knew I had to make it, too. So when it was my turn to wear the hat, I just told it that I was sorry to hurt its feelings and all, but I just HAD to be a Gryffindor. It said this weird thing, though. “You’ll be easier to find if you’re a little lost.”

But I said no, no, I have to be with A because he needs me. And the Hat went quiet for a while, and I was worried I’d be a hatstall like Scorpius Malfoy had been, but then it finally said, ‘Yes, alright, if you’re sure.’ And I was a Gryffindor. And everyone clapped, and the Gryffindors cheered, and so did Vic and Dom and Molly and Louis at the Ravenclaw table.

And then we had dinner, which was marvelous.

“You’ll be easier to find if you’re a little lost.” Scorp murmured out loud, not sure why the sentence struck a chord with him, then he scowled at mention of his own name and the subsequent flash of memory it evoked about his own sorting. Being a hatstall wasn't exactly something that he was proud of. It still made him nervous, not knowing what that meant about him, about the bits of his personality that drove that blasted hat to indecision for long enough that he'd gone numb from sitting on the stool.

After dinner, they took us to the common rooms for the first time. I don’t think there is a more beautiful room in the castle, and it’s special to just us because only Gryffindors are allowed in here. J and F said that firsties have to stay up all night the first night to prove we belong in the house. I knew they were lying, but it was so nice to curl up on the squashy sofas and look at the fire and talk about what we expected school to be like. When the prefect woke us up later and sent us all to bed, the fire was burned almost all the way down.

It must be very late right now, but I needed to write it all down to remember. Tomorrow is our first day of classes, and I expect I’ll be too busy to write again soon.

Scorpius skimmed through the rest and then snapped the journal shut, refusing to read any other entries. He stood and marched back to the deepest part of the library and returned it to its hidey hole under the shelf, resolving to forget about it entirely. Fancy Rose Weasley keeping a bloody diary. And a pointless and boring one too. He'd have guessed, had he ever had cause to wonder before, that any diary kept by her ought to be far more interesting than this. But no, she even wrote down what she ate for Merlin's sake! The most interesting parts had been mention of Nera and of himself! Well he was done with the journal.

He left the library and headed down to the dungeons. As he walked his mind wandered and all unbidden, he found memories of his own sorting fighting to be remembered. He supposed it was better than dwelling on the Quidditch defeat, but Scorp didn't much like recalling it. He could remember it like it was yesterday...

Got all caught up again and as always just in awe of your writing! Both of you are amazing.

This is fantastic! Your characterization is great, I love how much insight you give on all the charries! And what happened with Scorpius' sorting?? Please post more soon! :-D

6.2 Hatstall
Little Scorpius had still been sniggering as the first years were all led from the Boatshed up to the castle and into a little room off the Great Hall. During the boat ride across the Black Lake, Barnaby Goyle had 'accidentally' pushed a muggleborn named Ryan into the water. The kid had immediately panicked because moments before, Nera had calmly been telling him horror stories about the Giant Squid's eating habits. Even when the boy was flailing and screeching in the cold water she had leaned over the side and informed him in no uncertain terms that the squid liked to play with his food and that he'd last longer if he could hold his breath. Hagrid had fished him out soon enough and the boy had been dried off but that one professor, the Longbottom one who had led them into this side room, he'd forgotten the boy's shoes and now Ryan-whatever-his-name-was squelched. Nera stood at Scorp's side, looking perfectly innocent. They waited through the little briefing and Scorpius, who had drilled his entire family for every possible detail about this whole sorting thing, took the opportunity to access his future classmates. Flanking himself and his cousin Nera Zabini, there was Barnaby Goyle, Vincent Nott and Tamsin Urquhart. All of whom he knew. He heard a whispered observation from nearby, only picking out the word 'death-eaters' and he turned his face in that direction, fixing grey eyes on the one he picked out as the speaker just as Professor Longbottom firmly berated the youngster. That word was almost as loaded as the one about dirty blood these days.

Scorpius met the Professor's eyes, and saw, with a keen flash of insight for an eleven year old, that the Herbology professor had entertained that same thought, but nobly quashed it, setting a good example and truly practicing what he preached. Though perhaps he was not quite able to ignore that flicker within himself either? Scorpius eyed the group he was standing with and couldn't really blame the man. The thing was though, it was normal to gravitate towards people you knew right? And it was a pretty nerve racking thing to wait for, this sorting business. They all said he had nothing to worry about, that he was Slytherin through and through, just like his entire family. Scorp gave Nera's arm a quick squeeze and wandered over to say hello to a few other children that he knew, even making a conscious effort to say hello to the ones that he didn't think had any desire to end up in Slytherin. The great majority of children that he knew were pureblooded like himself though, with a few halfbloods to round it out. The muggleborn ones which Scorpius rather thought he could pick out based on their nervous expressions, and in some cases, the silly questions they were asking of their neighbours, he didn't know at all and he wasn't quite brave enough to say hello. He ended up standing -not hovering, Malfoys don't hover - near Apollo Burke and Yates Shacklebolt.

"Malfoy." Shacklebolt greeted him first. Scorpius knew him well enough, but their only interactions were usually brief, while their elders conversed. Shacklebolt's father was still Minister for Magic, and a popular one too. Scorp's own father had become quite the philanthropist in recent years, contributing to various charities and providing substantial monetary support to the Ministry itself. Some claimed it was evidence of the Malfoys trying to buy their way back into society's good graces, which was partly true, but as his father often said, you had to take the given path until you found a shortcut to where you wanted to be, and Scorpius understood that there was no reason why a wizard shouldn't make the journey along that path as easy as possible in the first place, something his father was doing as best he could. In addition to Draco Malfoy's wizarditarian actions, Scorp's grandfather was firmly established as part of the Board of Governors for Hogwarts itself, as well as Minister Shacklebolt's own Privy Council amongst several other high profile committees and groups within Wizarding Britain. All of this meant that the interactions between Scorpius and Yates had almost been play-acting in the past, the emulation of their fathers and a quiet battle for superiority. Scorpius had more finesse, but Yates had a more overblown entitlement and knew very well that he was rather untouchable with his father being the political leader of British Wizarding society, and a war hero to boot.

Apollo's pedigree on the other hand, was far less stellar. His name was best known in association with Borgin and Burkes, an infamous shop in Diagon Alley which was known for the sale of dark artefacts. His family, while also pureblooded, had prudently kept their noses clean during the second wizarding war and relocated to Greece. Apollo's mother had been a Greek witch, and upon her death he and his father had moved to England, very much welcomed by those pureblood families who remembered the Burkes. Now once again the Burkes had business in Knockturn Alley, Apollo's father had a monopoly there, so far as Scorpius knew, but they weren't as wealthy as the Malfoys and they had to actually work for their money. The three boys chatted quietly together and Scorp looked when Apollo subtly pointed out Albus Potter and Rose Weasley, Yates loudly acknowledging that he knew them and proceeding to boast about his father's exploits during the war and how very close he was to the legendary Harry Potter, now Head of the Auror Office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It made Scorpius twitchy and he was wholly unimpressed. Yates got a flat stare but didn't seem to notice the icy expression on the young Malfoy's face. Nera did, from across the room, and the little girl swooped imperiously over to the three boys. Her dark hair was cut square to her jaw and she sported a fringe that was also straight-cut. The heart-shaped face was currently tipped up, the chin raised, and Nera looked down at them through her rectangular-framed glasses despite being shorter than each of the boys. Neither Yates nor Apollo appeared to take the slightest bit of notice of her until she spoke and then both boys stopped talking mid-conversation.

"Scorpius, come be by me, we have to go in soon. I'll be last you know." She hooked her arm in his and led him closer to the door, waiting. He looked over his shoulder at Apollo and Yates a few times and then settled to wait arm and arm with his cousin, pleased to have her comfort but pretending like he was only trying to make sure she wasn't too nervous. All too soon the door was opened and they were led out into the Great Hall. Even Scorpius who was well used to impressive magic and great looming feats of Wizarding Architecture , couldn't help but marvel at the star spangled ceiling and the heavy feel of history permeating the air.

He was nervous now and Scorp swallowed roughly but tried to look nonchalant, knowing that they were being watched. Nera seemed more subdued too, clinging to his arm tightly, though she had looked for her sister at the Slytherin table and waved with great enthusiasm when the first years had been led out to face the masses of students. Scorpius had never thought that there would be so many. He barely registered the beginning of the ceremony, he was too busy looking out over the hall and trying to count all the heads.

It wasn't until the hat first began to name the new Slytherin students that Scorpius fixed his attention on the hat and the sorting of those students who came ahead of him alphabetically. Apollo Burke was quickly sorted to Slytherin along with a girl named Selina Evercreech. Curtis Flint and Barnaby Goyle had made Slytherin too. They were in the H's now, with two more Slytherins.

"I, J, K, L, M." Scorpius whispered to himself, watching the hat avidly now. At the Slytherin table it seemed there was a bit of betting going on. The boy with the squelching shoes was a HUFFLEPUFF and Nera snorted inelegantly.

"Figures." It seemed to give her more confidence and she straightened. Scorpius tried to do so too and risked another look out at the house tables. His eyes lingered on his goal, Slytherin, but he couldn't help but look over at the Gryffindor table too. He was being glared at. The blond boy blinked slowly. Weasleys? He couldn't think about that right then, his eyes went back to the Slytherin table and Acantha Zabini gave him a thumbs up.

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

The entire great hall went silent for a moment and it was eerie. Scorp extracted his arm from Nera's and, hearing a few jeers from older students out there at the tables, suddenly felt very small as he strode over to the stool and the hat. The Slytherins started to cheer when he got there, which made him feel better. He sat on the stool and Professor Longbottom held the hat out, lowering it to Scorp's head.

Nothing happened.

Slytherin?

Nothing.

"Young Malfoy." The hat spoke and Scorpius startled. He knew the hat could talk but his father had told him that he'd not had any interaction with the thing, that it had barely touched his head before yelling Slytherin. Scorpius chose not to say a word, he just sat there on the stool, gripping the base of it as if he were worried the hat would suck his brains out. Professor Longbottom seemed surprised by the indecision too and shifted restlessly at his side. Scorpius and the hat proceeded to have a long one-sided conversation whereby Scorp continued to say nothing at all and the hat hovered between the choice of two houses. After a minute the whispers began, but Professor Longbottom hushed them. Two minutes and you could hear a pin drop. Three minutes and Scorpius was sure that his heart was going to stop. The eleven year old boy sat on that stool and tried to look over at Nera but the professor was obscuring his view. He looked out at the Slytherin table instead, eyes finding his cousin who looked thoughtful but not particularly worried. He straightened and finally addressed the hat and tried to hide his panic. Of everyone in the great hall at that moment, students and teachers alike, only the Headmaster seemed unworried. The whispers couldn't be hushed now. Four minutes in. Not wanting anyone to see the panic he was currently feeling, or for anyone to discern the internal argument from his expression, Scorpius Malfoy smirked, nothing like his usual smile but he punctuated it with a fake yawn. Finally, at Five minutes and twenty four seconds the hat reached a decision.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The cheers from the Slytherin table were impressive and Scorp went right over there, squeezing in beside Acantha. He felt a bit sick and barely managed smiles at the greetings and congratulations directed at him from his now housemates. The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur though there weren't anymore delays or surprises. The Slytherins had piles of things on the tables amongst the empty plates. galleons, sickles, chocolate frog cards, valuable knick-knacks of all sorts, all of which was swept up or added to depending on what house each student was sorted into. There was a lot of whisper about odds for the first years with known familial ties. Like Albus Potter, whom Scorpius had met on the express, and Potter's cousin Rose Weasley. Both Gryffindors of course, along with Yates Shacklebolt. Finally Nera Zabini was called and Nera spent all of four seconds on the stool before joining Scorpius and Apollo at the Slytherin table. She didn't ask about the sorting incident.

Nobody did.

Later he'd find out that he had almost lost Ryuu Haneda 50 galleons, but still, nobody ever asked which house was the might-have-been. Scorpius wouldn't have told them if they had.

And of course that's the one thing I'm curious about. But I won't pester Scorp.

Ooooh! I'm massively curious about the house too! And what the hat might have said it was always such an entertaining talker. Can't wait for more!