Surprise! This was the toughest chapter to write so far—this story has become increasingly complex and I find myself revising endlessly. Again, apologies for the extremely slow updates, and many thanks to my dear reviewers and friends on Tumblr who constantly send me reminders to update. I hope this will be a nice Christmas surprise for those of you who still follow this fic. Much love to you for staying with me. Happy holidays!

Chapter 46: The Arrangement

"I'm sorry, Al," said Rose, after Albus had finished recounting his conversation with Emery Nott. "But that makes very little sense."

Her cousin merely squirmed in his seat, looking dreadfully uncomfortable. Poppy sat silent beside him, radiating a calm that Rose envied. She certainly felt the farthest thing from it at the moment.

Scorpius merely regarded Albus with a cool, measured stare. Around the Great Hall, students were starting to pack up books and game sets, oblivious to the increasing loudness of Rose's turmoil as they prepared to wind down for the evening.

Hugo had been inconsolable just the hour before, rattled by Vance and Zabini's sudden altercation and Albus' involvement in the whole thing. Even as Rose tried her best to soothe him, he'd cried more than he talked, which meant she had only managed to get his story in bits and pieces.

Kirk's acting all jealous of Tarquin…

He still has his girlfriend and he's been ignoring me for months…

He said he was going to make us regret this…

Rosie, he threatened to go to the press about it—

Her brother's hysteria had alarmed Rose. Media involvement was something she refused to consider—but if, for whatever reason, Vance felt enough vitriol towards Tarquin and Hugo's relationship to leak their affair to the press and tank their reputations in the process, the whole thing could spell disaster for the Weasleys. Hermione was already engaging with potential donors for her Ministerial campaign; any coverage of her exemplary son dallying with the scion of a famously bigoted family would surely hinder her efforts. Not to mention it would all be deeply traumatic for Hugo, who had never suffered press scrutiny the way Rose had.

At the very least, both he and Zabini deserved to come out to the public on their own terms. If they chose to do it at all.

The possibility of a very public scandal made Rose feel queasy. If not Vance, any other student who witnessed the brawl could put two and two together and tattle to the press.

So this had to be nipped in the bud. Fast.

What was instantly clear to Rose, however, was this thing her brother had with Zabini probably ran deeper than she'd realised… at least on Hugo's part. Her brother generally savoured—rather than rued—his youthful misadventures, often spinning his failed romances into humorous tales of grand woe.

But this time felt different somehow.

This wasn't just a bit of fun. Even if it started out that way.

And Rose was no longer that naïve as to why. Because she now understood what it was like—to be infatuated with someone to the point of recklessness. She and Scorpius were certainly no strangers to this notion. Just for a kiss that lingered; for a touch more intimate; for another secret shared under their fingertips… how often had they gone to unreasonable lengths to fulfil some unspoken daydream?

Yet the thought of Hugo allowing the same concessions for himself and Tarquin troubled Rose greatly.

For nothing lasting could come out of this. Tarquin was engaged, for Merlin's sake.

At least he was until a minute ago, according to Albus.

At present, they were still waiting for Scorpius' reaction on the matter. He seemed in no hurry to respond—he looked rather like he was still turning over every word Albus said in his head. When he didn't break the silence, Rose spoke up once more.

"Why would Nott tell you something like this anyway?" she prodded gently, glancing tentatively at her boyfriend. "This should be a conversation between her and Zabini."

Albus crossed his arms, his nostrils flaring at the mention of Tarquin. "Look, Rosie. Nothing about today is making sense to me. Whether they're engaged or not really isn't any of our problem at this point. Tarquin's made a fool out of Emery and Hugo—we can all agree he's brought this on himself. He's a grown man, I'm sure he'll sort himself out." He cleared his throat, suddenly looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Not that Rose blamed him; Scorpius hadn't exactly welcomed the conversation with open arms. Then, speaking in Scorpius' direction—"Let him know what Emery said, won't you? Because I doubt she's speaking to him anytime soon."

Scorpius gave a stiff nod. Albus didn't wait one more second to make his exit, his chair scrapping noisily on the floor behind him as he left.

"How long are you two going to have your cold war?" Poppy asked, once Albus was out of earshot.

"We'll talk once he apologises for acting like a bellend," Scorpius returned, without missing a beat. "Not just to me, but to you. Aren't you two still mortal enemies, by the way?"

Poppy took this light barb as a sign to leave. With a serene wave and a swish of her cloak, she too was gone.

"She does have a point, you know," Rose said, nudging Scorpius' side. "It doesn't feel right that he's still so mad about us. Honestly, I just want everything to—" go back to how they were. But a sinking feeling inside Rose informed her that the world she once knew wasn't quite as simple as it was before.

It frightened her a good deal more than she wanted to admit.

Scorpius' calculated gaze softened when he spotted her troubled expression. He reached out to stroke her cheek, prompting her to look at him. "We'll deal with Al later," he promised. "How's Hugo doing?"

"Not that great." Rose offered a wan smile, touched by his concern. "He's taking it hard, and I don't blame him. I honestly didn't realise Vance hated Zabini so much."

Scorpius shrugged lightly. "They go way back. Same social circles, but he's never liked Tarquin. The Vances were huge rivals to the Zabinis when they were still in business, back in the day. The fact that Hufflepuff suck balls at Quidditch doesn't help, I suppose." The brief humour faded from his next words. "Seems to me that Vance still carries a torch for Hugo."

"He had his chance," Rose said darkly, feeling disgruntled on Hugo's behalf. "Hugo liked him so much, but Vance just strung him along the whole time. He carried on with his girlfriend like nothing happened between them! The most cowardly, selfish little Chizpurfle—"

Scorpius raised an inquisitive eyebrow, looking like he was trying not to laugh.

"Oh, you know what—I take that back, even Chizpurfles deserve better than to be lumped in with that prat. I should know, I met a family of them when I was twelve." Rose exhaled heavily, trying not to fume. "He's the one who hurt Hugo, and now he wants to punish him for dating someone else—"

"Should've listened to me and hexed him harder the other time."

"Well, you were right. Burping slugs was barely a punishment. Should have put the worst kind of Pox Hex on him…"

"I agree," Scorpius murmured, looking preoccupied. She got the impression that he was able to perceive the matter more deeply than she could, but was wary of airing his thoughts. "People like him make poor decisions, then take it out on others when he can't have what he wants."

The thought of Vance going to the press for revenge was overwhelming for Rose. How terribly cruel that would be. "Do you remember when I said we should've stopped them?"

"Hugo and Tarquin?"

"Back then, you said that they should be allowed to make their own mistakes. Do you—still think that?"

Scorpius nodded, resting his cheek against his palm as he considered her. "Yeah," he said at length. "Because they would have made the same mistakes anyway, Rose. If not with each other, then with someone else." He paused, trying to find the words. "Listen—if I hadn't fallen out with Georgia, it would still have happened with some other girl. It was a lesson I needed to learn."

She smiled, unable to resist teasing him despite herself. "And if it wasn't me, it would have been someone else too, I suppose."

A bout of mirth flashed past his sombre expression, his gaze sweeping deliberately over her. "I wouldn't call you a mistake, imp."

Just a single look from him and there it was, that honey-warm flutter in her stomach. Rose blinked away from him to focus on her clasped hands, suddenly flustered. Oh, she mustn't think of kissing him now, she chided herself. She was being silly. It was inappropriate—there were certainly other things they had to worry about.

And still a coy heat was blooming over her skin in a telling blush.

Scorpius, on his part, looked utterly unaffected by their exchange. Though a slow, quizzical smile had worked into his face as he watched her.

Pygmy, Doxy, Imp, Sprite…

Hoping she wasn't too red in the face, Rose said aloud, "It must be love."

There was a curious restraint in Scorpius' voice. "Love?"

"Vance. He must love Hugo, for him to go to such lengths." Even to Rose, the answer was suddenly too obvious to ignore. Vance had maintained the cleanest of reputations for years, but here he was, acting careless and completely unlike himself. About to throw it all away for a bit of vengeance. If not for love, then what?

After all, Scorpius once did the terrible thing of threatening someone's life—

Because he was in love, too.

Not to mention everything Poppy had just gone through for the same reason, no matter how misguided her feelings were.

Love, for all its intangible qualities, was still something of a mystery to Rose. And yet it was the only explanation that made sense of their incomprehensible behavior.

Beside her, Scorpius had abruptly gotten to his feet, his expression impassive now. "Walk with me?"

The surrounding noise receded behind them as they left the Great Hall. Scorpius' hand had caught hers as they strolled, their fingers intertwining warmly as he drew her close to his side.

"I'm not sure if it is," he said at length, his quiet words echoing off the dimly lit hallway. "Love, I mean. Maybe a year ago I would have agreed. But now I don't know if you can really call it that if you're hurting someone on purpose. If he loves Hugo, then perhaps he should have done the best thing for him."

"Which is?"

"Let him go."

His simple answer surprised Rose. But before she could respond to that, Scorpius had continued. "Hugo's a smart lad. He'll recover from this, I assure you."

"And Tarquin?"

"Like Vance, he'll never admit his feelings. If he has them at all." He snorted under his breath. "They're really not that different, you know."

"Even though he's no longer engaged?" Rose asked softly.

"He needs the engagement. And if Emery truly wanted out, she would have contacted Tarquin's parents herself. But here she is… spreading grievances among friends."

"What do you mean, if she truly wanted out?"

They came to a stop by an arched nook with an opening that overlooked the school grounds. Scorpius rested his weight against the stone parapet, drawing Rose towards him.

"Let's just say she has her own agenda," he said casually, glancing out to the deepening night sky. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about. Al might have been a drama queen about it, but these arrangements are completely fixable."

Rose's brows knotted slightly at the ambiguity of his answer. "Scorpius. You were the one who said we weren't going to keep secrets from each other. Tell me what's really going on."

In the distance, a group of students bustled up the spiral staircase, their bright chatter carrying over. When they were gone, he turned back to Rose. "She's negotiating."

At the look of complete bewilderment on Rose's face, Scorpius sighed and relented.

"I'm not sure how to explain this without sounding like a toff," he admitted wryly. "When we were children, we swam in Lake Como every summer, at one of my father's properties. It's a fortress built during the first wizarding war, passed through generations of Pureblood families… it has quite an impressive provenance. Emery's an ambitious girl—she's always coveted that kind of legacy. The Notts have a respectable name, but they're new money. They possess nothing of real significance." He grimaced, recalling an old memory. "Grandmother used to mock them for buying furniture, rather than inheriting it."

"…I must confess I have no idea where this is going."

Her usual candor made him bite back a laugh. "In short, she wants a wedding gift."

Rose's eyes widened in realisation. "The fortress?"

"And I can offer it to her. If that's all she wants."

She mouthed wordlessly at him for a moment. "Scorpius. Don't you think you're being a bit casual about it—"

"Rose, the estate's literally just a pile of stones. And I'm far from casual about it—"

"So you're okay with losing a family heirloom?" An incredulous thought occurred to Rose then. "Is it even yours to give away?"

"Well, look—I'm not giving it away, exactly," Scorpius corrected, with a calculative glint in his eye. "I'm merely offering to give it to her once it comes into my ownership. And I'm not going to lose anything, because her father would never accept a gift like this. It's an expensive estate to maintain. They don't have the income for it. But it won't matter—because by then Emery would have already agreed to carry on with the engagement."

"You'd do this for Tarquin?"

Scorpius fixed her with a steady look. "I'd do this for you."

"You won't have to," she insisted, still flabbergasted from this show of expert manoeuvring. These arrangements are completely fixable... Rose was coming to realise, now, how finely tuned Scorpius was to the social politics that ruled the complex, inaccessible world he inhabited. No wonder the Malfoys were a force to be reckoned with. They had all the levers to tilt the odds in their favour.

On one hand, impressive. And on the other—just a little bit frightening to see.

It made her own world feel rather small, all of a sudden.

She only started out of her thoughts when Scorpius stroked her chin with a gentle thumb. "Something's bothering you."

Rose shook her head, watching her breath turn white between them. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"We said no secrets, remember."

She was momentarily distracted by the elegant serpentine clasp of his cloak; the shadows of the faint evening light made it look eerily alive. "I don't really know where to start," she said at last. "But Hugo said Vance threatened to go to the media about him and Tarquin."

Scorpius tensed visibly at the words. Instinctively, Rose moved closer to him, her hands tucking loosely into his to reassure him.

"I don't want to believe it, obviously," she said haltingly. "But I can't not react, just in case it isn't an empty threat… I was thinking I could provide a favour, distract the press from taking Vance's call. Give them some sort of exclusive. I've never done interviews, so it has to mean something."

"Why can't Hugo handle himself?" There was a sudden harshness in Scorpius' tone. "You dealt with the media yourself all these years."

"Precisely—he's not experienced, Scorpius. I can't just let this happen to him." A lump had formed in her throat; she did not want to keep Scorpius in the dark any longer. "And it's not really as simple as letting it all blow over. I should have told you earlier, but my mum… she's running for Minister. And that complicates everything."

The dampened air seemed to go still. On the grounds beyond where they stood, the creaking of brittle branches yielded to the silence, and not the littlest of creatures deigned to stir. Rose rested her forehead in Scorpius' broad chest, somehow afraid to see his reaction.

When he said nothing, she closed her eyes and went on.

"Everyone expects a scandal from me," she said, her voice slightly muffled now. "But Hugo's the press favourite. The pride of England. And if this story comes out… they'll find every excuse to rip him apart, and they'll use it to take my mum down with him. I can't just sit by and do nothing."

A beat, then Scorpius shifted slightly, his arms wrapping around her in an insistent embrace that warmed her to her toes. He breathed into her hair, his lips brushing her temple in an almost kiss. "And what does this mean for us?" he asked in an undertone. "If your mother is running for Minister."

"I don't know." Rose drew back slightly to look up at him, relieved that they were finally talking about it. "She did mention it might change things if you were serious about me, but—"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes." Scorpius' hands came up to cradle her winter-stung cheeks, the gesture raising goosebumps on the rest of her. "Rose… I've been serious about you for some time now. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

It was hard to hold his gaze for some reason. "I don't even know what that means," she confessed, feeling hopelessly out of her depth.

"It means I want to be yours. Just yours." Unable to resist any longer, he'd pressed a lingering kiss in the corner of her mouth. "Won't you let me?"

"It's not going to be easy, Scor," she whispered, as their foreheads touched. Already feeling sorry for once again placing him in a predicament he'd never asked for.

"I'll bear it," he murmured. "As long as it's with you."

Her heart skittered wildly at the fondness she found in his handsome face. Like she'd hung the moon and the stars for him. Impulsively, Rose went on her tiptoes, her fingers fisted into the front of his cloak for purchase as her nose nuzzled sweetly against his jawline. "Am I yours, too?" she asked, peering at him with a shy smile.

She could feel the soft hum of laughter against her cheek. "Very much mine." And she could sense the moment something changed in him, as though he'd come to some sort of decision. He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret, his voice dropping deliciously low beside her ear. "I'll go to the press with you. We'll do this together."

An exclusive from her would capture instant media attention. But even Rose understood that having Scorpius as part of the deal would be a completely different beast. He had become so notoriously private over the last two years. An offer from Scorpius would see the press turning itself inside out for scraps.

Any story from Vance would lose steam at once. Without question.

But it would hardly be fair to Scorpius.

"I can't ask that of you," she protested, with some difficulty. "Scorpius, you shouldn't have to just for Hugo's sake. I know how much you hate the press."

"But I adore you." There was a steel in the way he looked at her now. As unwavering as an impending storm. "And I'm not just doing this for Hugo. It's for Tarquin, too." He looked lost in thought, absently pushing her hair from her cheek. "Listen… I know the press game better than you do. We'll make a few deals before Vance does, and we'll manage this. You and me. Alright?"

Despite her reservations, she knew he was right. Scorpius knew the levers far better than she did. And now, after the entire saga with Crossley and Poppy, she'd come to appreciate how valuable and incisive Scorpius could be in a matter as complex as this one.

And if it meant Hugo was better off for it, then…

She looked up at him, suddenly overwhelmed by feeling.

"Your help would mean a lot to me and Hugo," she said sincerely. "Thank you."

Scorpius returned her smile, his fingers catching hers once more. And surely, surely she wasn't the only one who felt the moment suspend between them. Why, she wondered, must she find him so terribly appealing now? The semi-darkness gentled the harsh lines of his cheekbones, the devious stare she knew so well now softened into something boyish and gorgeous… In her arms, all his diamond-sharp edges were blunted by a blinding, heartrending affection. For her. And she, in kind, felt all sorts of tender and bruised on the inside for all of the reasons that somehow led back to him.

It must be love. Her own words floated softly in the back of her mind. But Scorpius, no longer content to merely be close, had dipped his head to kiss her. And suddenly it was hard to even think at all.

She was breathless when he pulled away briefly, the pitch of her own voice strange to her ears. "What's that for?"

"You've been wanting to kiss me all evening. Or did I read you wrong?"

"No." And it was hard to miss the delight that stole into his face. "Not wrong."

Scorpius stared back at her, half-mesmerised. Then he'd leaned in, their noses brushing as his hungry mouth found hers once more. Rose sighed against him, her lips parting to savour the sensual heat of his tongue against hers. He tilted his head then, finding a lush new angle to draw his pleasure; every lick and nibble artfully teasing her into a pulsing ache in the core of her that refused to abate. Oh—it was all unbearable.

With him it always was.

"Maybe we can—go somewhere more private?" she managed between kisses, now vaguely aware of the distant sounds of students clambering through the hallways. They could be seen.

Scorpius forced himself to pull back then, looking flushed and lust-dazed as he carded his fingers through his already tousled hair. He glanced back at her, his breaths ragged. "To do what?" he whispered hoarsely, the warm palm of his hand moving up the back of her jumper to caress her bare skin. He couldn't seem to stop touching her.

It was hard to contain the staccato of her heart as she tried to find some semblance of composure between them. "A goodnight kiss."

"That's all?" he teased.

"Scorpius." But even Rose knew then, in her heart of hearts, that they were a bit of a lost cause.

Funny how she didn't mind it. Not one bit.

"A goodnight kiss, then," Scorpius conceded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he wrapped her hand in his. "We'll just have to make it worthwhile."