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Chapter Two — Lies and Recurring Dreams

Scorpius wanted to travel the world. He wanted to visit the Kremlin in Russia, float along the waters of Venice in a gondola, stand in front of the statues on Easter Island, walk through the ruins of Pompeii, ponder the deeper meaning behind the design of the Zen Garden of Kyoto, and experience everything that was Reykjavik, Iceland.

It was strange for a Malfoy to have such dreams, but Aunt Daphne loved the idea. She often rambled about self-discovery and feeding the human soul with inspiration. Scorpius figured that her Elf-wine induced babblings were code for: “Don’t let your family force you to marry the first rich coot that throws Galleons around after the war or else you’ll end up like me: miserable with too many children.”

Or something like that.

The rest of his family, however, were harder to convince. When Scorpius announced that he wanted to do some travelling, they all had incorrectly assumed that he would be using his trust to fund the trip. So when his father only regarded him with a raised eyebrow before he continued chewing on his steak, every one of his close relative got together and decided that since his father wasn’t going to ask any questions, they would. They began bombarding Scorpius for details about accommodations, an organised agenda for each week of his travels, and thorough financial reports.

Ever since before he could remember, his entire family had been fanatical about making sure that he had enough sense to not squander the family’s wealth after the elders were dead and gone. They also were completely obsessed with the idea of Scorpius marrying a high-class, pure-blooded witch from a powerful family.

Scorpius refused to even think about that.

He figured they would relax when he explained that he wouldn’t be using any of his trust money for his travels, but that knowledge only upset them more.

“Malfoys always travel in style and never travel light,” his mother told him on her last visit as they walked the Manor’s gardens. “You simply cannot do that on your insufficient salary, Scorpius.” He had half the mind to tell her that she hadn’t been part of the family in years and that it was too late for her to start being his mother, but thought better. He loved his mother despite their rocky relationship and her many flaws.

Needless to say, talking to his family was one of those lose-lose situations that Father had told to him about. There was no point in trying to change any of their stubborn minds. The men in his family lived by strategy and logistics, the women had a hand in their husband’s pockets but firm foothold on the ground, and everyone always asked the question he hated most: “Why?”

And Rose always wondered why he was always so damn practical. Every time he dared to sway from the pragmatic and mundane, he could hear all their nagging voices in his head resonating, “Why?”

Logic and sensibility had been ingrained into his life since birth, and it worked well for him, but he’d learned that sometimes it was okay not to have a plan for everything. When Scorpius explained that to his sensible grandmother, she had shook her head, as if dealing with an ignorant child, and chanted her personal motto: “A structured life leads to less stress and more success.”

But as the countdown to the New Year started and anticipation all around him started to peak, Scorpius ignored Lily’s batting eyelashes, casually shoved a grinning Albus, and disagreed.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! …”

He thrived on chaos, lived for the stress that came along with it, and loved every second of it. His most successful moments on the Quidditch pitch at school and as a Healer had been during moments of utter pandemonium when his heart threatened to hammer its way through his ribcage, and adrenaline rushed through his veins and raised the hair on the backs of his arms. And while pragmatism and sensibility provided stability and comfort, Scorpius felt more alive while counting down the seconds than he had in the last five hours.

“Four! Three! Two! One! … Happy New Year!”

The room erupted. Scorpius was blinded by a downpour of colourful confetti and nearly deafened by the sounds of drums and balloons that were charmed to pop to the Muggle tune, Auld Lang Syne.

It was a sensory overload at it’s very finest, and he revelled in it.

However, the moment Al disappeared in the crowd, his sister went in for the kill….

When Scorpius turned seventeen, his father sat him down in his private study, poured him a glass of fine scotch, and said, “Give a witch an inch and she thinks she’s a ruler.”

It wasn’t until he turned—nearly too late—to avoid starting the new year with his lips firmly attached to Lily’s that Scorpius began to think that Father was right. Lily gave him a puzzled look, smiled, and tried again. That time, Scorpius held her at arm’s length. “Look—”

“Oh, come on, Score!” She didn’t notice when his jaw clenched involuntarily at that nickname. Lily was the only person who called him ‘Score’. Well, Rose did, but only when she was actively trying to annoy him. “Live a little. Indulge in an old tradition!”

“Not all traditions need to be kept because of longevity.”

And with that, Scorpius sidestepped her and made a clean exit.

After leaving Lily, everything was a blur of hugs and handshakes, hard pats on the back and pecks on the cheek. He waited until the tent was nearly empty before joining everyone outside for the fireworks display.

The temperature was chilly—albeit tolerable—and there was a hum of energy and magic in the air. It felt like the anticipation about the year to come and hope had collided and mingled before condensing into a casual atmosphere. As Scorpius made his way through the hordes of guests, he searched for a familiar face, but didn’t find one until he emerged from the back of the crowd.

Henrietta was sitting on the grass, legs folded politely under her black dress robes. She regarded him with a warm smile and gestured for him to sit next to her. Thanks to several days without rain, the grass was dry and he sat without worrying about stains on his robes. They were nearly impossible to remove.

“I heard you snubbed Lily Potter,” she said matter-of-factly, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears.

Scorpius frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

“From Al.” she picked at an imaginary piece of lint from her dress. “Well, Al heard it from his mum, who heard it from Hugo, who heard it from his grandmother, who actually saw the snub take place.”

“I’m almost certain that she has eyes in the back of her head.”

Henrietta laughed. “And a proclivity for matchmaking. She’s determined to see you with one of her granddaughters. Since you and Rose are such good friends, it makes sense that she would push you toward Lily.”

Scorpius shuddered at the thought. “I’d rather walk over hot coals…or broken glass.”

She snorted. “What’s wrong with Lily? Besides the fact that she’s…” He didn’t understand why Henrietta was choosing her words so carefully. “Very much into herself.”

He relaxed back on the palms of his hand. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just not my type.” Scorpius could almost hear the gears in her head churning and knew she was formulating a thought or question. He carefully changed the subject. “When are the fireworks supposed to start?”

“In a few minutes. I imagine they’re almost finished setting up. So, why isn’t she—?”

“She’s just not,” he clipped.

The problem was that Henrietta liked to dig into him with personal questions. As a Muggleborn, she found his lifestyle and upbringing incredibly interesting. And more than that, she thought of him as an enigma; a mystery, but Scorpius preferred not to be picked apart like a corpse before vultures.

He had a family that did that perfectly.

While in school, Scorpius used to talk to her freely, but his trust had waned when—on several occasions—he found her scribbling in her notepad after their conversations. It was especially unnerving when she started asking him to repeat what he’d said. It had never set well with the private wizard. He wasn’t sure when, but Scorpius had constructed a ‘Henrietta wall’ around himself, restricting their conversations to more informal topics, such as academics or work.

“Al told me that you were helping set up.”

“I was, but Lily came over and started taking her frustration with you out on everyone else, so I decided to excuse myself.” Henrietta stared at him as if she were studying him before she calmly informed, “Al left to help Rose take her gifts home.”

Scorpius couldn’t help but notice how Henrietta’s voice changed when she said Rose’s name. He had always known that she didn’t care for Rose; she’d never kept it a secret and Rose never really cared to notice. They butted heads about everything, probably because Henrietta was too conservative and Rose…well, wasn’t. They were almost too different to coexist. Scorpius secretly thought that Rose’s nonchalant attitude and Henrietta’s closed-mindedness had doomed them from the start.

“Apparently,” she continued. “She left after a talk with her parents.”

“I never pegged you as a gossipmonger, Henrietta.”

“Gossip?” a familiar voice said from behind them. A very familiar voice. Scorpius instinctively rolled his eyes before looking over his shoulder at Lily. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone. Hugo Weasley was standing next to her, but he was busy talking to one of the Scamander twins—Scorpius could never tell them apart. “Who said something about gossip? I just love gossip!”

“It was nothing important, really.” Henrietta smiled thinly.

“Pity,” Lily sniffed and clasped her hands together. “So, we were walking around, trying to find the best place to watch the fireworks, and we—” Hugo cleared his throat and gave her a dirty look. Lily rolled her eyes. “Okay, I thought that this would be the perfect place.”

Of course she did, Scorpius thought with another roll of his eyes.

“Well—” Henrietta started uncomfortably.

“Oh!” she covered her mouth. “I hope we weren’t interrupting anything important.”

Hugo snorted a little too loudly.

And while Scorpius fought back the urge to chuckle and Lily cut her eyes in her cousin’s general direction, the Scamander twin and Henrietta exchanged confused looks.

“You weren’t,” he finally said after the awkward silence.

“Then you won’t mind if we joined you?”

Henrietta opened her mouth, probably to tell her how much she minded, but Scorpius interrupted her smoothly. “You’re more than welcome to join us.” He stood and dusted the grass blades off his robes and straightened his gasses. “In fact, Lily, you can have my seat.”

She blushed and sat down next to a blank-faced Henrietta. “But where will you sit?”

Scorpius gave her his very best smile and replied, “Right next to you…when I return.”

But he never did.

ooo

People—namely his entire family, Henrietta, and most of the Ravenclaws from their year—had always asked him, “Why Rose Weasley? Why in the hell are you friends with her?”

And Scorpius always responded with, “Why not Rose?”

She was different from everything he knew—everything in which he was accustomed. Scorpius’ life was the epitome of structured and formal, but Rose…. If it was possible to be so enigmatic and interesting that people watched you and paid Galleons to read about your adventures in magazines all over the country, that was Rose.

People who didn’t know Rose loved her, while the people who knew her best worried about her. He never quite understood the basis for their concerns. Yes, she possessed an active imagination and a penchant for the dramatics, but she also had a wicked sense of humour and a sharp tongue. Sure, she had abysmal taste in books and quit more jobs than he could count on his fingers and toes, but Rose was savvy and firm…when she wanted to be. People judged her almost as much as they judged him, but they underestimated her far more.

Why wouldn’t he want to be her friend?

He could always count on her to have something smart to say and to burn the first bag of popcorn on, well, any night.

So, Scorpius wasn’t too surprised when, upon entering her flat after leaving the party, he was greeted by the smell of charred popcorn and the sound of her voice.

“You are being completely unreasonable, microwave!” Rose passionately raved. “If it weren’t for the fact that you make popcorn taste so much better, I would’ve tossed you out! I saved you, and this is how you repay me!?”

He shook his head, loosened his tie, and removed his jacket, fanning himself. Rose had an aversion to being cold and kept her thermostat set on ‘hell’ during the winter months. He tossed his jacket on the back of her transfigured sofa and looked around. Her entire flat was small and desperately needed more furniture, but it was attractive and cosy. She’d picked the flat for the hardwood floors and the gallery-style kitchen that she barely used. Oh, and low rent, which shouldn’t have been able to attain a car park in East Finchley.

Exactly how she managed that feat, he wasn’t sure.

Al remained convinced she Confounded everyone, to which she replied with, “When you’re as persuasive as I am, you don’t need magic.”

Scorpius snorted.

Rose let out an aggravated yell. “If putting in a bag of popcorn for two and a half minutes, and adding thirty seconds cooks it perfectly, then putting it in for three minutes shouldn’t burn it!”

It also didn’t help that Rose had a love/hate relationship with her kitchen appliances.

“This is a conspiracy! You want to keep me from my popcorn, but I won’t let you! You will not win because I will not go quietly into the night!”

Scorpius could always tell her frustration level by what movie line she quoted. The older the movie, the more upset she was. A thirty year old movie quote, while bad, was completely manageable…with a little intervention. “I don’t think the microwave cares, Rose.”

“Because it’s a—” There was a pause. “Wait a second.” And Rose’s head peeked out of the kitchen. There was a puzzled look on her face. “Why aren’t you at the party?”

“Why aren’t you at the party?” he retorted, giving her a pointed stare.

“I didn’t want to see the fireworks,” Rose replied rather flippantly and returned to the kitchen. As he followed her, he could hear the sound of her tossing the bag of popcorn into the rubbish bin. “Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

Scorpius crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, watching her awkwardly muddle around the small kitchen. She’d changed into more comfortable clothes: a hot pink polka dotted shirt, black shorts, and bright yellow knee-high socks. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Rose opened another bag of popcorn and put it into the microwave. She pressed a button and turned to face him with her hands on her hips. “I’m actually quite good. You’re just too observant. The truth is,” she sighed. “I wasn’t in the mood for fireworks.”

“Because of the talk with your parents?”

She frowned. “How did you know about that?”

“Henrietta.”

“Never pegged her for a gossipmonger.”

Scorpius smirked. “Neither did I.”

“The talk had nothing to do with me leaving. In fact, the talk wasn’t so bad after all. I have a feeling that this will be the last intervention that my mum orchestrates.”

“I highly doubt that.”

The timer on the microwave went off and Rose went to retrieve her bag of popcorn. She shook the bag and patted the top of her microwave. “Actually, it will be. You see, my mum made me a proposition.” Scorpius quirked an interested brow. “She got me a job as a Healer’s assistant to some witch named…” Rose trailed off thoughtfully. “What was her name, again? Blossom? No. Marigold? No. Shoshanna?”

He rolled his eyes. When it came to names, Rose had the memory of a goldfish.

Tapping her cheek with her finger, Rose tilted her head to the side. “Hmm…Shoshanna? I don’t think that’s right. I know it was some floral name, but I can’t remember.”

Scorpius snorted.

Rose held up the bag of popcorn. “Want some?”

He declined. “It always gets stuck in my teeth.”

“You and your precious teeth.” She rolled her eyes and walked past him. “You sound like my mum when she tried to give me a bag kernel-less popcorn. Please explain the purpose of popcorn without kernels, because I just don’t get it!”

“Did you know that in Mexico, Muggle medicine men would throw the kernels into an open fire and tell the future according to their ‘popping direction’?” He followed Rose to her sparsely furnished sitting room and sat on the sofa while she searched her bookshelf for a movie.

Rose just looked over her shoulder and blinked. “How did you know that?”

“Muggle Studies.”

“But you didn’t even take it. I did! For the easy ‘O’.”

“Didn’t you get an—”

“We all know that Professor Clovenhoove had it out for me. I swear, you make up one story about Muggles and no one ever lets you live it down.”

Scorpius smiled. “What movie are we watching?”

“The Sword of Deception.”

Groaning, he rested his head back on the hard cushion. “Not again.” Rose was going through a foreign language movie phase, which meant that she picked one movie with subtitles and watched it repeatedly.

For weeks, he’d been forced to watch the story of a sword forged by a psychotic blacksmith and a dark wizard that gradually possessed the mind of the king who wielded it. They watched him build his empire and destroy himself in the process. Of course, Rose wasn’t drawn to the movie because of the obvious deeper meaning of the film. She just liked the sword fights. And Scorpius couldn’t lie. He’d enjoyed the fights and the lessons the movie had taught…the first time he’d seen it. However, after nine times, he was ready to blow up the disc.

“But it’s such a good movie! I personally like—”

“How one chance encounter can steer a good king on the path to destruction? How he starts to realise something is wrong with this sword and starts trying to save his humanity? Or how he throws himself into the volcano to save everyone from the sword?”

“None of that, really. I liked it when he chopped that man in half. That was cool.” Rose dug into the cushions of the sofa for the remote and made herself comfortable by draping her legs over his lap.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, but never fussed.

“By the way, you never told me what the proposition was.”

“Well, you kept getting me off topic.” She poked him in the arm playfully. “Anyway, the proposition is simple. I’m going to take this job at St. Mungo’s. And if I somehow manage to not quit in the next six months and one day, she’ll leave me alone about…well, everything.”

He straightened his glasses. “What happens if you lose?”

“I go back to the Auror Academy,” Rose replied with a look of distaste on her face.

“But you hated it.”

There was a determined gleam in her eyes when she said, “Which is precisely why I’m going to win.” Still, Scorpius had his doubts, but Rose continued before he could voice them. “Another motivator is that my parents are going to give me an extra hundred Galleons every two weeks.”

“Why?”

“Because being a Healer’s Assistant doesn’t pay enough for me to stay in my flat. And since my parents and I agree that me moving back home is not the answer, they’re going to give me an extra two hundred Galleons every month—”

“That’s nearly a thousand pounds, Rose! Your rent is—”

“I know that, and so do my parents. It was their suggestion. In fact, they started at four hundred Galleons and I had to talk them out of that ridiculousness. I think this is their way of putting extra money in my pockets so I can actually furnish this place and stop “living risky”, as my mum calls it. I would’ve argued it down further, but she had that look in her eye and I figured that further resistance was futile.”

Once Rose started the dreaded movie, Scorpius thought about more about the proposition her parents had offered.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if either could hold up their end of the bargain. Contrary to Rose’s beliefs, she and her mother were a lot alike. Besides being intelligent, stubborn, and resourceful, they both were ambitious…in different ways. There were two types of ambition: temporary and blind. Rose’s ambition was temporary. She put her everything into something until she grew tired of it and quit. However, her mother’s ambition was blind, which was the more dangerous of the two because the word ‘quit’ wasn’t in her vocabulary.

Rose was under the impression that this proposition would be the end of a war they’d fought since she graduated from Hogwarts, but he knew that it was only the beginning.

ooo

Scorpius always had the same dream.

He couldn’t remember much about it; just the feelings it elicited. He knew that he was on a beach with black sand, and he was never alone. In the four years he’d had this dream, not once had he ever seen her face. Still, Scorpius couldn’t ignore the feeling that he knew her…from somewhere. And even when he felt himself waking up, he could still feel that satisfied sensation she elicited from him.

It was like he’d drunk a glass of water, unaware that he was even thirsty, and it hit the spot. That was what the dream was for him; whomever he was with just hit the spot.

Scorpius grunted when he opened his eyes. Sunrays were sneaking in through a small opening in the window shade and landing on his face. He stretched his arms up, engulfed in the cottony feel of the blanket, and his eyes started to adjust to the light. Scorpius didn’t even panic about where he was.

He just knew.

What he didn’t know was what the hell had happened. One minute he was listening to Rose ramble about the movie, and the next his neck was reciting a tale of uncomfortable sleep. Scorpius stretched his arms over his head again, trying to rid himself of stiffness. Then, he rolled on his side and his arm hit flesh. In reciprocation, a hand swung out and hit him in the face. Scorpius gave her a shove. “Stop hogging the bed, Rose.”

“It’s my bed…so shut up…you ingrate,” the body next to him muttered, heavy with sleep. “It’s way…too early…for this…shit.”

“Why am I in your bed?”

Rose groaned, sat up, and whacked him with the pillow she had been sleeping on. He snatched the pillow and threw it on the floor. “Because someone fell asleep and furniture transfigurations only last oh-so long. So, I levitated you in here. You’re lucky we’re mates. If you were anyone else, I would’ve left your arse in there.”

She wasn’t lying.

“You sleep like the dead and your glasses are on the bedside table,” she informed, looking at the clock on her bedside. “And we have exactly one hour before we have to be at my aunt and uncle’s for New Year’s brunch.”

Squinting, he found his glasses and put them on. “What time is it?”

“Just past eleven.”

“I should—”

The doorbell sounded.

“Who in the hell…” Rose, who was missing a sock and looked extremely dishevelled, clumsily forced herself out of the bed. “I swear, if the person on the other side of the door has the last name of Weasley or Potter, I’ll hex them good,” she muttered viciously as she went to answer the door.

Scorpius yawned and scanned the room for his socks and shoes. He found them against the wall. He was in the middle of putting his second sock on when he heard a very familiar voice say, “Nice look, Rosie. You look like you got struck by lightning.”

And then he heard her punch him somewhere.

“Call me Rosie one more time, Al, and I’ll kick your arse.”

“Empty threats, Rosie—OW! That actually stung a bit.”

Scorpius snorted a little too loudly as he walked to the doorway of her bedroom.

“What was that?”

He made his presence known. “That would be me laughing at your dumb arse.”

Albus made a face. “At least I know why you never came home last night.” He then looked at them both, smirked, and wiggled his eyebrow suggestively. “What were you two up—?”

Rose smacked him in the back of the head. “You perv!” He winced and cut his eyes at Scorpius who was snickering. “We just watched movies…or rather, I watched a movie and Scorpius did a very good impression of a coma patient.” She huffed. “I reopened the Floo, so scram. I have to get dressed.”

And with that, Rose walked past them and into her room, closing the door behind her.

Scorpius walked past his best friend and into the sitting room where he picked up his tie and jacket. He had a feeling that Albus wanted to say something that he couldn’t say around Rose, and didn’t have to wait long.

“What really happened? Rose closed her Floo.”

He turned to his best friend. “Exactly what she said. I came here from the party, we started to watch a movie, and I fell asleep. Nothing more.” Scorpius explained coolly. “Oh, and Rose always closes her Floo at night. It’s to stop people from barging in before she wakes up.”

With a shake of his head, his best friend ran a hand through his messy hair. “So you’re going to do this for another year?”

Scorpius was starting to get a bit testy. “Do what?” He knew exactly what Albus was talking about, but preferred to play stupid.

“Lie.” Before he could snappishly retort, Albus gave him a shove towards the Floo. “Just so you know, I told Lily and everyone that you got sick and went home. So don’t worry about getting a high-heeled shoe to the face today.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t.”

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of JK Rowling. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! A heartfelt 'thank you' goes out to drcjsnider for betaing this for me. It was oddly hard to write. *glares at Scorpius* He wasn’t being all that nice to me.