Chapter Text
Deserted for most of the year, platform 9 3/4 at King’s Cross station was bustling with activity. Like clockwork, on September 1st, families began bursting from the stone barrier the moment it opened access to the magically hidden platform. With the colliding luggage carts, screeching owls, cats on an escape mission and conductors animating everyone to board, it was the perfect chaos.
Once upon a time, when seeing off her cousin James, Rose Weasley had been intimidated by this frenzy. Then as she’d begun romanticising Hogwarts, she’d become enamoured with the idea of this platform – an entrance to a new world.
Now, seven years later, it was in her blood. She navigated the bustling platform like an obstacle course she could run in her sleep. Round a toppled luggage cart here, weave between worrisome parents, nervous first year’s, eager return students, and dodge unwanted conversation – namely that of her mother whom she had escaped at her first opportunity.
Not that she didn’t adore her parents, she did, but her mum had dragged Rose, Hugo and their dad out of the house before the barrier had even opened. Among the many downsides, notably lack of sleep, the one plus of getting up at the crack of dawn was getting to reserve a compartment for her and her friends. Having spent the previous two weeks on vacation at the Mediterranean, she hadn’t seen them in what felt like an age. Although she wouldn’t spend much time there herself, a private compartment was a must.
Apparently, not everyone agreed.
Rose had assumed her inconveniently positioned trunk would keep students from trying to squeeze in, but some of the little rats hadn’t learned to respect seventh years yet. With an exasperated sigh, Rose pinned her new badge to her jumper – never mind that she wasn’t even wearing her school uniform yet. Surely even preteens would know better than to argue with their head girl over something so silly as a compartment.
Initially, she had planned to wait there, but Rose soon found fiddling with her badge and hair. The remaining Weasley’s were running reliably late it seemed. She trailed her route back to her parents and returned to find that her family members in attendance had tripled.
Two pairs of aunts and uncles had joined Rose’s parents; Harry and Ginny Potter and George and Angelina Weasley. The latter looked happy, which was a pleasant surprise because she had scowled through most of the summer. At least, every time the topic of Seth's graduation had come up. Or, well, the lack thereof. Seth Fredrick Weasley had not finished his final year successfully and was repeating it. Now, he was in the same grade as his younger sister Roxanne, much to her chagrin. The rest of the family had been more shocked at Auntie Angelina’s surprise than the matter itself. It was no secret that Seth’s own father and late uncle had quit their education entirely in favour of starting their business. In revealing his failure to his parents, Seth had joked that he was making up for the years his father had missed at Hogwarts.
Of Rose’s cousins, only Lily was there along with Rose’s own brother, Hugo. The fledglings of the family were whispering when she approached, a dreadfully common sight. Rose was close with her cousins, but Lily and Hugo were two peas in a pod. Unfortunately, that pod knew no boundaries and regularly cooked up some recklessly grand ideas. Secretly, she’d been relieved that Lily had opted to travel with her parents this summer, rather than with Hugo. Even as kids, he and Lily used to laugh maniacally whenever they were together, like little devils.
As prefect, Rose had been responsible for cleaning up more than one of their messes. She darkly remembered fifth year – Hugh’s third – when he and Lily had set out to map the Dark Forrest. Upon their capture, Hugo had blamed the visiting cartographer Bartosz Skartowàc’s presentation for enthusing him to “demystify the great unknown”. Rose had suggested Hugo next explore the Great Lake from inside a lead cauldron and had promptly received a scolding from their mother for it.
With a scowl, Rose stopped studying Hugo’s innocent expression and resumed scanning the platform for familiar faces. She wished she hadn’t. The person her eyes snagged on – blond and bumptious – was high–fiving his Slytherin pals, Flint, Rockwood and Scamander who were altogether arrogant dung bags. However if one Scamander was here that meant his twin, Lorcan, was, too. If she found Lorcan she’d find Seth and –
“Finally, more redheads!” Uncle George exclaimed as Aunt Audrey and Rose’s cousin, Lucy, went around the group to greet everyone. Their arrival was enough to start Uncle George on his recurring complaint that the Potter–genes brought ruin to the Weasley family.
“I’m telling you, there’s a reason why there are so many Weasleys! We are literally keeping the endangered gingers from extinction. But as soon as Potter comes around, only three out of twelve cousins are redheads!”
He looked between them meaningfully, eternal jest in his eyes. Rose chose not to point out, yet again, that Uncle George’s own children were not red–headed. Both siblings had brown hair dark enough to seem black, tightly coiled as their mother’s. “That’s only a success rate of 25%, before it was 100! Harry, what do you have to say to your defence?”
Uncle Harry only smiled and wrapped an arm around his dark haired Lily. Instead of joking back at Uncle George about the survival of the fittest, Uncle Harry looked at his daughter in adoration.
“I think she’s beautiful.” He couldn’t have said a less controversial thing. Even her Veela–descendant cousins didn’t hold a candle to Lily’s natural beauty. Her father’s tan skin and green eyes with her mother’s intensity burning in them – it was not only the Potter name which had Uncle Harry batting away modelling offers like bludgers.
“I’m not going to let someone use my daughter to promote smelly perfumes or provocative Venus Witch clothes,” he had roared over dinner some weeks ago, receiving an offended “Hey, I wear Venus!” from Dominique. It hadn’t been the first time Rose had witnessed him in a rage over Lily’s desired career path. Her uncle was hardheaded as an erumpent, but Lily might just be tenacious enough to come out on top of that battle of wills.
A long whistle snapped Rose out of her thoughts. With a few kisses she bid her family goodbye and scanned the platform one last time. Now that the train was about to depart, the turmoil on the station had reached its peak. Chances of finding anyone here were zero to none. Rose gave up and returned to the compartment she had picked, only to find three witches occupying it. She should have known.
Roxanne Weasley was sprawled over two seats with a copy of Teen Witch on her lap. Across from her, Allie Longbottom was meticulously brushing her hair. Dominique Weasley, who had been sitting next to her, jumped up to greet Rose with a hug.
“Hey there, head girl! I missed you so much,” Dom chirped and landed a couple of glossy kisses on Rose’s cheeks. Never mind that out of all of them, Dominique was the cousin whom Rose had seen most this summer.
“I’ve been searching for you guys everywhere,” she sighed.
Allie smiled leniently. “We were searching for the reserved compartment, of course.”
Rose dropped onto the bench next to Roxanne and took a peak at the magazine. Charming Curves and Hexed Hair – the Autumn Style guide.
“Hexed hair?”
“Yup, it’s the new ‘wicked'.”
“Never,” gasped Rose, appalled. Hexed sounded so forced and clunky.
“C’mon, Rosie, it’s like you live under a rock when it comes to pop culture,” teased Dominique.
“Last time I checked, culture revolved around Stonehenge and the Quintelves Quartett, right Allie?”
Rose turned hopeful eyes to her friend, but she only shrugged, put away her brush and grabbed a nail file. “Don’t drag me into this.”
“I never said…” Rose trailed off. “Allie, who are you getting so pretty for? Girls, who is she getting so pretty for?”
Roxanne was busy blowing a huge pink bubble. Dominique, however, leaned forward conspiratorially.
“It’s not a who, actually. It’s a what.”
“I’m gonna be editor!” Allie burst out.
“No way! That’s wicked! Congratulations!”
Allie beamed with well–deserved pride. Since third grade, she had been tirelessly working on the Hogwarts Owls, the student run school paper. There had been more than a few nights that her friends found her in the library where she had sat all night, researching and writing articles. With Allie in this new role, the students working under her had better have a good work ethic this year, if she was going to set the pace.
“I’m planning to go around later to check in with the other staff. I actually ran into a few of them already while we were searching for the compartment!”
“Yeah, not only them, Malfoy, too,” Roxanne said, conveying some meaning which was lost on Rose. The mention of his name cast a shadow over Allie’s previously excited face. “He was looking for Albus –“
Speak of the devil. Just at that moment their cousin Albus stuck his head through the door, a massive grin resident on his face.
“Cousins! And Allie,” he added with a wink which was charming in a funny way and not in the suave way he likely meant it.
Rose easily followed his invitation for a hug, letting her favourite boy cousin squeeze her and lift her off the ground. Afterwards he held her by the shoulders to examine her as though they had been apart for far longer than two weeks.
“You got even freckled–er down south!”
“Sure did!”
Rose let him squeeze past to hug the others, before she traded spots with him again.
“Aren’t you staying?”
“Gonna see my housemates,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve just come to collect Seth and Lorcan.”
Rose opted not to tell him that it sounded like a catastrophe in waiting.
“Have you seen them?” Dominique chimed up, her high spirits unmatched even by Albus.
“Yep, they’re just one compartment over.” Albus hooked a thumb towards the front of the train.
“I’ll come with to say hi.”
Dominique hopped off the bench and promised to be back in a couple of minutes before she escorted Albus.
Exhaling, Roxanne slumped against the back of her bench.
“Of course, she has got to say hi,” she groaned, earning a surprised look from Allie. “She and Seth are like best friends now.”
“I’m best friends with Albus,” Rose reminded her.
“Yeah, but you weren’t best friends with me first. It was a simultaneous thing.”
“Sorry, what did I miss?” Allie had leaned further in as if proximity would help her find the information she was lacking. The Longbottoms weren’t around most summers. It was the only time their dad could travel due to his being a professor at Hogwarts. This past summer they had been to Central America with the Scamanders.
“Dominique and Seth are besties now.”
“I heard you the first time. Why? How?”
“She didn’t feel like going back to France, I was at Quidditch camp, mum banned Seth from going since he wasn’t supposed to be in school anymore –“
“Ouch.”
“– and with his best friend in Costa Rica, Seth decided to steal the one person who wasn’t occupied. My best friend.”
“Ahh, I get it. You’re mad at him, not at Dom.”
“She’s always mad at Seth.” Rose stifled a yawn.
Roxanne raised a brow. “Come on, we all have brothers. You know how it is.”
Fair point.
“I don’t know, mine could learn to live a little,” sighed Allie. “He spent all summer elbow deep in mud with dad.”
“Speaking of, tell us about Costa Rica!”
Allie practically glowed the moment it was brought up.
“Oh, it was amazing. Super wet and not so touristy, and loads of mosquitos, but beautiful. I’ve never seen that shade of green before.”
“And the Scamanders? How were they?” It was clear that Rose didn’t mean Luna and Rolf, who were eccentric but kind, nor their son Lorcan who was amiable and rarely serious. She meant his twin brother Lysander. Top student, the dream of any mother–in–law to be, and a smarmy Slytherin.
“They were great, but I didn’t see them much. Luna and Rolf were busy with work, and the twins were doing hells know what. I spent a lot of time with mum. Dancing, hiking, reading…” She blushed. “And of course with the Potters, when they came to visit.”
It definitely sounded worlds more exciting than the mere two weeks Rose had spent at the seaside – though she had enjoyed every second of it.
Having been gone a little longer than ‘a few minutes’, a beaming Dominique slipped back through the door as they were changing into Gryffindor robes. Not that it was unusual. She was always beaming, and the sight was striking every time, even after seeing her daily for seven years.
“I was half expecting not to see you anymore until we arrive,” Roxanne said drily, but Dominique waved her off, pulling out her own Hufflepuff robe.
“They’ve all three gone to see the Slytherins.” Rose groaned inwardly. That was a recipe for disaster and this year it would be hers to sort out. Dominique glanced at her sympathetically. Then, she perked up as if remembering something important. “But they say hi.”
“What are we supposed to do with that?”
“Well, Rose can tell them hi back,” Allie suggested.
Roxanne snorted a laugh.
“I won’t be seeing them before you do,” Rose began, but stopped when she spotted Dominique biting her lip and exchanging a glance with Allie.
“I’m sorry, Rose,” she breathed, “but I think you’ll see them again sooner than you like.”
Before she could ask for clarification, Allie said, “Albus is hanging out with Malfoy.”
“And Malfoy,” Roxanne pointed at the head girl badge pinned to Rose’s jumper, “is head boy.”
“Weasley.”
Scorpius let the name melt on his tongue, bitter with animosity.
“I guess that means the party is almost over.”
They had taken over the head student compartment. ‘They’ being him and his friends who were spread across the seats comfortably. Butter beer in hand, ties loose, spirits high. Even Lysander hadn’t buttoned his shirt to the chin yet. By the time he left the compartment, he would again look like he’d been crafted by Merlin himself.
“Wouldn’t be a party if you guys didn’t feel the need to start the year with beer,” Lysander admonished the others before taking a gulp from his own.
“Coulda had pumpkin juice, but I was feelin’ generous and distributed it amongst the first years,” said Earl in his deep register.
“That sounds nothing short of a euphemism,” said Lysander disapprovingly.
In Earl Rockwood’s vocabulary, ‘distribute’ likely meant that he’d spilled the juice on the children. If there was ever a book to be judged by its cover, it was Earl. He was broad shouldered, and thick–browed with a jaw that could cut glass. If Scorpius hadn’t liked the guy, he’d still have made friends with him, if only to stay on his good side.
Across Earl’s lap lay the legs of Effie Flint. A picture of innocence next to his bulky build, which was why she liked being around him so much.
“I bet she’ll be here any second,” Scorpius groaned.
“Weasley? I’d bet not. I’m sure gossiping with the Gryffinwhores is much more appealing than your company, Scorp.”
“Gryffinwhores,” Lysander chuckled as Effie took another gulp of butter beer. “I think you’re bitter because you don’t have any girl friends?”
Effie flicked one of her white blonde plaits back and shot daggers at Lysander from charcoal lined eyes.
“As if I could stand the non–stop jabbering about boys and clothes and drama.”
Earl tapped her thigh and said sarcastically, “You’re such a girl’s girl, Eff. Besides, you talk about that stuff all the time.”
“Do not,” she protested, pointing a dark lacquered nail at him. Scorpius had already spotted a chip in the paint.
“‘Earl, what should I wear?’” He had pitched his voice so high it cracked. “‘Earl, should I hex Branson, the worthless little fuckboy?’“
“Oh, shut it,” Effie poked him, but she couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face. “You love it.”
Before Earl could confirm or deny, the door flew open dramatically. Another three boys entered the room, lead by a handsome Slytherin with a daring expression that did little to make him looks less like a stray puppy.
“Fucking hell, Albus! Did you have to bring those love birds? This place is bursting with testosterone.”
“And most of it’s you, Iffy,” countered Seth who was rewarded with a laugh from Lorcan. The two of them trailed in after Albus, either oblivious or uncaring that their presence was unwanted.
Albus did this all the time, smushing the two groups together, oblivious to the tension between them. Either that or he just blindly hoped that it would one day sort itself out. Scorpius hadn’t had the heart to set the record straight. Seth and Lorcan were… tolerated, at most. And only out of good will towards Albus, for even though Lorcan was Lysander’s twin by blood, he was Seth’s in spirit.
“Weasley, why am I not surprised that we are stuck with you for another year?” Lysander greeted drily, wasting no time to mention the older student’s failure to graduate.
“And why am I surprised, that you haven’t made head boy?” Seth retorted. “Wasn’t that the sum of your life’s aspirations?”
Both Scamander brothers chuckled, though for different reasons.
“At least I have aspirations,” said Lysander, “rather than getting distracted chasing girls.”
Both Earl and Scorpius snorted, well aware that Seth had had five girlfriends in the previous year. None of them were saints, of course, but five was just excessive.
“Lander, the only reason you don’t have to chase is because I do all the leg work.” Lorcan winked at his minutes older brother. “The flirting, the charming, the wooing as you will, and then they just mistake you for me!”
While the others laughed, Effie rolled her eyes bitterly. “Oh, what a pile of shit. Is Albus really the only decent one among you?”
“I think we should just move on from the topic,” Albus piped up, always the mediator between the fronts of his friend groups.
Seth, however, seemed to be revelling so much in his toxic back and forth with Effie, that he ignored Albus completely. It was so typical that the moment these idiots showed up, all conversation turned into a veritable mine field.
“I’ll have you know,” Seth said conspiratorially, “I can be quite the gentleman.”
Effie snorted and opened another butter beer, after handing Earl her empty bottle.
“If you have any game why do I only see you around girls you’re related to?”
Even Lorcan snickered at that one, earning an elbow to the side from Seth.
“Why do you ask, keen to take their spot?”
Merlin help them all if Seth and Effie ever put their chemistry to any other use than bickering. A match between them would probably be explosive enough to take the whole school down.
“Who was your first?” Despite not addressing anyone, Effie’s eyes were fixed on Seth. “A gentleman would remember. Do you?”
“Obviously,” Seth laughed but for once it didn’t reach his eyes. Scorpius couldn’t help but smirk at the discomfort. Effie had pinned him right where she wanted. Served him right for insisting to continue their verbal sparring. Seth, however, relaxed his posture and grinned. “Fine, I’ll make for a bit of entertainment.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes at the posturing.
“Her name was Andrea, she moved in next door.”
“Didn’t think you had next door neighbours,” Scorpius couldn’t help but comment. He’d heard all about the Weasley lodgings from his father and nothing good among it.
“I don’t live with my grandparents, unlike you, Malfoy.”
Fucker.
“Whatever, continue,” Effie pushed, but Scorpius had lost interest.
He let his head drop back and his eyes unfocus, trying not to feel bothered that the train ride had not started as intended. A bit of kicking his feet up with the lads before Weasley tried to bust his balls was thoroughly ruined by her cousin and Lorcan. In their early years, Scorpius hadn’t minded kicking it with Lysander’s brother on occasion. That was before Lorcan and Seth had all but fused themselves to each other.
Still resting against the gently jostling seat, Scorpius turned his head sideways to look at his favoured Scamander twin. The handsome bastard caught his gaze and made a face to indicate he cared as much about the current squabble as Scorpius did.
“Merlin’s beard, he’s still gonna be talking by the time we arrive,” sighed Lysander.
“Long story short, she was all over me, it just took a little coaxing and –” Seth made a clicking sound with his tongue.
Silence followed, during which Scorpius assumed the others were similarly disappointed at the less than spectacular story.
“Girls,” Seth grinned into that silence. “Always acting so coy, but in reality they’re just as dirty minded.”
“They never act coy with me,” Earl murmured half into his empty bottle.
Seth leaned into Lorcan, saying in equally low volume, “I’d feel about as comfortable with this guy as I would with a vampire.”
On impulse, Scorpius's hand twitched for his wand, but then he realised no one else seemed to have heard it. Thank hells. He might have been wanting to stir up a little chaos with the drinks, but he wasn’t after an outright brawl before the school year had even kicked off.
“Really, Earl, no problem?” Effie teased, confirming Scorpius suspicion. If she’d heard it Seth would have gotten a make over already.
Earl downed the remainder of his bottle and wiped across his mouth. “That’s right, clean and easy.”
“I bet they’re just too afraid to say no to this massive guy.” It wasn’t quite the joke Lorcan thought it was. Effie splayed a hand on Earl’s broad chest, seemingly affectionate. Scorpius recognised it for what it truly was, a barrier.
“Yeah, I bet,” snorted Seth. “‘Clean and easy', sounds less like sex and more like murder.”
That was it. They’d been testing each tether holding things together in this cramped space, and Seth had just snapped the last one. Earl made to lunge forward, but Effie’s strategically placed hands and legs held him back just enough. Everyone else had tensed, ready to intervene in case of an escalation. However, Earl relaxed back into the seat after a few moments.
Bad move bringing them here, Al, Scorpius thought.
“Well, that escalated quickly.”
“Shut up, Scamander?”
“Which one?”
“Both of you! Merlin, you’re insufferable,” Effie scoffed. With a sigh, she lifted her legs off of Earl.
“Al, I’m kicking your friends out. After a while, they get annoying.”
Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief at that, but it was short lived. Before Effie could make her threat a reality, the door slid open.
“Don’t bother. I’m kicking you all out.”
In the doorway stood Rose Weasley.
Lorcan and Seth were the first to resign to Rose’s intrusion, or perhaps she had finally provided an opportunity for escape. One by one the compartment’s previous occupants filtered past Rose, some more cooperatively than others. Rockwood made no effort not to bump her with his massive shoulder, and Flint paid her as much attention as she would a fly. Nothing but a nuisance. Albus on the other hand opted to give her yet another hug.
Scamander exited last, leaving only Rose and Malfoy and awkwardness behind. Through all of it, the undeserving Slytherin git had not moved an inch from where he was melted into the cushions. Rose slid the door shut, counting silently to ten.
“Lysander had a point,” Malfoy said, referencing Scamander’s suggestion that he stay. “Doesn’t make any sense to make him wait outside.”
“It does actually.” Rose looked sternly around the compartment, undecided if she should sit or not. There were bottles strewn about, and she was that close to killing Malfoy. Two minutes in, nice one. “We should make a plan for–“
“Not gonna yell at me, then?”
“What?”
Malfoy gestured broadly at the mess. Rose’s frown deepened at that. It was already costing her immense energy not to pulverise him, and he was dangerously tugging at that leash. She couldn’t wait for Dominique to arrive with the other prefects. A life line, at least.
“Well, yes, obviously it’s an uncouth way of using the compartment. But I thought we could try to be amica–“
“You see, I wouldn’t have had a chance to invite the lads if you hadn’t been late.”
“Late?” A significant amount of her self–restraint slipped, almost enough to make her act foolishly – just imagine the first detention Scorpius Bloody Malfoy gave out in his unmerited position was to his Head Student counterpart – but Rose took a breath and forced herself to relax. Malfoy was doing this on purpose, his smirk said as much. There was nothing for her to win here, only a lot to lose. Her sanity was at the top of that list.
“Frankly, I don’t care if you choose to abuse your power,” she lied. “It’s unoriginal and unsurprising, and there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.”
Until we get to Hogwarts, and I can rat you out to McGonagall. Maybe that will be a good opportunity for her to explain what in the hopping pots she was thinking. Malfoy, head boy.
“I suggest we keep it short and simple and save the rest for when you are in a more… cooperative state.” A snort at that. “We’ll focus on taking the names of all prefects, dividing up duties between supervising the train and the arrival at the station, and instructing them all to check in with their heads of house for the common room passwords.” Malfoy said nothing while she spoke, but at least he no longer looked smug. “McGonagall will have made a plan for the first week of patrols, after that it’s up to us to make it. That’s how it was in previous years.”
From his unchanging expression, Rose couldn’t make out if Malfoy had caught the barb.
“Is that all clear?”
“All clear,” he drawled. It was meant to be a mockery, she knew it.
“You need to clean this up before they arrive.”
Malfoy made no moves to do so. Rose’s nostrils flared. She could keep herself from hexing him, but she struggled with patience on top of it. Pulling her wand like a whip, she began collecting the bottles. In doing so, she had little regard for Malfoy’s safety. Rather, she made it a point to whisk them right past his face, close enough to make him jerk.
“We’ll also have to answer any questions of the new prefects,” Rose continued her list, louder now over the clinking of glass. “Or I suppose I will have to do that task.”
“Oh good, here we go,” Malfoy said with sudden force, and he stood up with the same. His chest collided with a floating bottle, sending it and its leftover content spraying at Rose.
“Watch it!” She cried out. A knee jerk reaction, as she could easily clean herself with a wave of a wand. He was still a dick for it.
“Spit it out, Weasley,” he snarled.
“What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with you? Stop pretending and just fucking say it: You don’t think I belong here.”
“Seriously?” Was that why he’d been trying to rile her up? He’d been looking for this argument? Trying to get her to explode on him?
“Of course, I don’t! In what world does this make sense? You weren’t even prefect, Malfoy.”
“McGonagall clearly thought it was a good idea,” he countered.
Yeah, well, she may be going senile, because this is insane.
“Just admit you’re pissed a Slytherin got head student.”
“That’s bullshit, I thought Scamander was going to get it.”
“What a relief that would have been,” Malfoy scoffed.
Hardly. Scamander was not exactly pleasant. Not under that polished top layer, anyway. Scamander was obsessed with himself, but at least his curated image meant that he was diligent and determined to perform. He would have annoyed Rose beyond her wits, but he would have pulled his weight. Malfoy on the other hand…
A knock sounded at the door, and Rose sensed it was Scamander, eavesdropping outside this whole time.
“Pull yourself together,” she hissed at Malfoy. He roughed back his shaggy blonde hair with his fingers, and glanced at her chest. Before she could curse him for it, a winning grin was plastered on his face, and the door slid open to admit the first prefects.
The compartment was barely large enough to accommodate everyone. This time Rose was not among those squeezed into the back of the space, trying to be able to hear above everyone’s chatter. This time, she was the one everyone’s attention was on. The one who was expected to take lead, since Malfoy sure as hell wasn’t going to–
“Welcome, prefects,” he said smoothly. “We are glad to see you all on our team for this year. In case you don’t know us, this is your head girl, Weasley, from Gryffindor,” he pointed at her chest to indicate her tie, “and I’m your head boy, Scorpius Malfoy, from Slytherin.”
There was some giggling and blushing going on, but Rose was too busy holding herself together. He hadn’t even deigned to use her first name. Her eyes found Dom in the back of the compartment, who rolled her eyes.
“To start us off,” the Slytherin prick continued, “we’d like to take everyone’s names. State your year and house, too.”
Malfoy gestured to a Ravenclaw at the front, who promptly announced herself as “Charine, sixth year, Ravenclaw.”
There was a pause in which everyone seemed to wait for something. While Rose was still trying to figure out what it might be, Malfoy turned to her.
“Did you get that?”
Her jaw dropped when she got his meaning. Oh, she had half a mind to castrate him. There was a rather efficient spell that might work. It wouldn’t be a painless procedure most likely, but in certain circumstances the goal outweighed the means.
“Weasley?” A tick of impatience now laced the word, just enough to give the impression he was being polite.
With unwarranted force, Rose pulled a sheet of parchment from her bag along with a quill. It was bewitched, thank Merlin, to take notes itself. At least she’d retain some of her dignity in this apparent demotion to Malfoy’s assistant.
As the students announced themselves one after the other, Rose sought out Dominique again. This time, she regretted it. Sympathy and concern were heavy in her cousin’s eyes. She was likely wondering what in seven hells was going on here. Quickly, Rose found another familiar face, Carl Longbottom, just before he spoke up for the roll call. His expression made clear there was no mistaking it. They could all tell Malfoy was dominating their new partnership.
Rose nearly scoffed at that. He was making a mockery of the word.
The roll call was nearing the end, and Rose braced herself. It was time to take back the reins.
“Great, thank you all for that,” she said an instant after the last student – Roald, fifth year, Hufflepuff – had finished. “We need six students to patrol the train; you know how everyone gets when they can finally use magic again after the summer.”
Allowing a pause to share a chuckle with everyone, who had no doubt been past defenders, was a mistake.
“We’ll need six of you as well to supervise at the train station,” her insufferable counterpart cut in, “keep in mind you will be the last to take a carriage. And then –“
“Two students from each house to lead the first years to your common rooms. Fifth years, this is a great opportunity to familiarise yourself with your new role and build rapport with the new students.”
The feeling of triumph at interrupting him waned slightly when his smile did not. Malfoy looked unperturbed by her, as if her presence did not touch him at all. Perhaps it had to do with the Slytherin fifth year prefects, who looked to him for confirmation at her words. Malfoy nodded curtly, and Rose’s jaw clenched.
The assigning of tasks went smoothly, and to Rose’s disappointment the new prefects had no questions for them to answer. Seeing him come up empty would have been enough to prove to Malfoy that he had been right. He did not belong here. They all would have known it, too, if she hadn’t stupidly laid down the itinerary before him. And if he hadn’t shamelessly stolen it.
“We will see you again on Wednesday evening just after dinner to make patrol schedules. You’ll all have your schedules by then.” Rose concluded. “Now, please be responsible and impartial with point deductions. No one likes a prefect who favours their own house.”
“I don’t know, I always appreciated Lysander giving me a pass.”
Laughter rippled through the group at the comment. Rose’s face burned.
Before Rose had the chance to emphasise the seriousness of her request, Malfoy had already dismissed the prefects. There was no getting their attention after that. The compartment emptied at a rate that shouldn’t have been possible, Dominique being pushed out as one of the first. Without a glance back at Rose, Malfoy fell into conversation with Scamander and left. Just left.
For a few moments, Rose stood there, reeling. The parchment with names and assignments hung idly in the air, ready for her to collect. Dominique returned just as Rose finished packing up.
It was a good thing, too, because Rose was in dire need of a pick me up and a hug. Instead, Dominique’s eyes dropped onto Rose’s chest.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t even see it from back there or I would have told you!”
Dreading what she would find, Rose followed her gaze. Her white blouse was splotched where Malfoy had sprayed the butter beer. Where he had looked just before the prefects arrived.
Looked and not told her a thing