A/N: I got such a nice reaction from my "The New Trio" one-shot, that I decided to do another follow-up for my loyal fans. Random Third Year moment in the lives of Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, and Rose Weasley. And I hope you enjoy this one just as much although it's somewhat shorter.

Disclaimer: In the event that you've been living under a rock for over a decade, JKR is the author of the Harry Potter series, and I am a humble fanfiction author.

Albus had been waiting in the Library nearly twenty minutes for Scorpius who was always late and Rose who was never late. He was thoroughly curious by this point, but was too Slytherin to betray it when Scorpius finally crashed into the chair opposite him.

Pretending to be deeply interested in his book, Albus casually commented, "A little late, are we?"

"Someone," Rose huffed, seating herself neatly beside him, "thought I needed a tour of the entire castle."

Scorpius grinned, still breathing heavily from the exertion. "You know that you love me, Rose," he chuckled. "Don't forget we're going to get married in four years to give our dads both heart attacks. We can't do that if you kill me before the end of Third Year."

"I still refuse to be a part of your plan for upsetting our parents," Rose snorted. "And besides the lack of my agreement, said-plan is forgetting one other important detail . . . your self-proclaimed fiancé."

"Ah," Albus remarked calmly. "So you were running from Lily . . . I'm surprised you lost her. She's quite dedicated."

"Don't I know it," Scorpius moaned, letting his head collide with the table.

"You shouldn't do that," Rose remonstrated from behind the large text that she had already buried herself in. "You'll mess up your hair."

Scorpius sat up hastily, his hands moving to ascertain the state of his hair. Albus stopped him. "Don't do that, Rose! He already uses the mirror twice as long as the rest of us. Anymore and MacMillan is going to kill him."

"My apologies," Rose sniffed. "His hair is perfect as usual. Uh-oh." A familiar red head entered the Library, and Rose retracted her statement by shoving Scorpius under the table unceremoniously.

"Watch the hair!" he whined quietly.

"Buy a hand mirror," she snapped back.

"There are days when I wish I could have talked Dad into giving me his Invisibility Cloak," Albus muttered as Lily caught sight of them and headed in their direction. "Run or hide, Scorpius?" he asked with a heavy sigh. "It's your call."

"Run. Run. Definitely run," Scorpius babbled. "Third Floor Passage, now." He scrambled out from under the table and raced for the Library door with Albus at his heels. Ignoring Madame Pince's protests, they dodged around Lily and headed for freedom. They were lucky to evade capture and ten minutes later found both boys collapsed against the wall in the Third Floor Passage.

"Wasn't your Dad any . . . any help at all?" Scorpius gasped out, clutching his midsection. "I mean, surely he's against this, right?"

Albus winced. "He said you could learn a disillusionment charm, but that's only prolonging the inevitable. She's a Weasley woman and they always get what they want."

"Disillusionment charms are Fifth Year," Scorpius whined. "I can't be seen sweaty and out-of-breath for the next two years. Think of the broken hearts, Al!"

Albus pushed his best friend over, ignoring the crash. Heaving himself upward, he pulled three crates off of the stack and set them on the floor, adding a cushioning charm to each one.

Having collected himself, Scorpius pulled over the largest crate into the center for their makeshift table, and stood on it to light the overhead lamp. Having done so, he jumped down and rooted in their stash of snacks for Butterbeers.

Albus took one and kicked his feet up onto the table. Scorpius took the seat to his left, perusing a Quidditch magazine for the few short minutes they had before Rose would appear with the books they needed for their essays. Of course this means that they were loudly discussing the Chudley Cannons' chances of winning the Quidditch Cup by the time she arrived.

"Boys!" Rose huffed, dropping her bag onto the table with an audible thud, narrowly missing Albus' feet. "So help me, if you don't fail Transfiguration, I will find a way to transfigure you both into giraffes!"

"Giraffes?" Scorpius looked over to Albus for confirmation. The dark-haired boy shrugged. "Why giraffes, Rosie?"

"Don't call me that," she ordered irately over the top of the book she was hiding behind.

Scorpius leapt from his seat, kneeling before her on one knee, hands clutched to his heart dramatically. "I'm sorry! Please forgive me, my dearest darling Nymph."

"That either," Rose glared.

"Marry me."

Rose closed her book calmly and brought it down sharply over the top of Scorpius' head. "Not if you were the last man alive. Now go do your homework." She turned back to her page and resumed pouring over Ancient Runes.

Scorpius heaved a heavy sigh, and crawled back onto his crate, a broken man for all of two minutes before Albus handed him a Chocolate Frog. Happily munching the treat and flipping through his Transfiguration text, all was silent for thirty seconds before he looked up with a disgruntled expression.

"So why giraffes, Rose?"

"Giraffes are silent," she answered, turning the page. "Pass me a butterbeer, Al."

Albus snorted in amusement at Scorpius' floored expression and hid it by turning away under the pretense of needing to look for a butterbeer. He popped the lid and handed it to his cousin. Raising his, he smirked. "To Rose, the only hope we have of passing."

Rose rolled her eyes. "To Scorpius, the egotistical brat we need for comic relief."

"To Al!" Scorpius cheered waving his half-finished butterbeer emphatically. "Who always keeps us well stocked with sweets."

"To us and the end of Exams!"