The Eyes of the Wolf

From that point onwards, Rose was aching to meet Scorpius again. She looked for him in the Great Hall, in the corridors, around the lake, and at the Quidditch pitch, but she only got a few vague glimpses of him. He seemed to have taken James's words seriously, and whenever Rose saw him, he was either walking alone, head down, or poring over a book.

'Do you realise you've mentioned Scorpius Malfoy three times within the last half an hour?' Titania asked after their Potions class a couple of weeks later. 'You're obviously interested in him, so go and talk to him.'

'I can't do that!' Rose said and nearly walked into Professor McGonagall, who raised her eyebrows, tutting.

'Are you afraid of what your cousins would say?'

'Kind of. And also, I'm not sure he'd like to talk to me any more. He hasn't looked at me once since I spoke to him.'

'Well, I'm not sure I'd look at you either if I knew I'd get James and Albus after me -'

'What, fair Titania, is this talk?' James's red head popped up on Titania's other side. 'Are you fantasising about me coming after you?'

Rose couldn't understand how Titania managed not to blush.

'Oh no, I don't like you that way,' Titania said simply. 'We were just talking about Scorpius Malfoy.'

James looked like he'd have sucked a lemon, and he walked for a while in moping silence.

'What about Scorpius Malfoy?' he asked crossly when they reached the Entrance Hall. 'Why were you talking about the git?'

'Rose wants to talk to him,' Titania said despite Rose's furious hissing.

James stopped on his heels, his eyes narrowing. Rose looked pointedly away at the painting of a witch standing in a meadow and picking her nose.

'What?' James's voice had the same tone as Grandma Molly's when she was angry.

'Nothing,' Rose said. 'If I want to talk to Scorpius, I will.'

'No, you won't,' James said. 'He's a git and a Slytherin, and his Dad was a Death Eater.'

'No, he's not a git, I've never seen him act like a git,' Rose said, feeling her voice tremble with suppressed fury. 'And I thought it's your Dad who's been preaching against inter-house prejudice for years! And I don't care if Scorpius's father was a Death Eater -Scorpius is not! And one more thing...' Rose stepped closer, unable to stop the flow that had been on the verge of spilling for a long time. 'That couple of minutes that I talked to him was a more meaningful discussion than I've had with you in 15 years!'

She turned around and strode away, deliberately closing her ears from any shouts from behind. She half-expected either Titania or James to run after her, but nobody came. Agitated and not knowing where to go, she headed out to the lake. Ominous, purple clouds were scudding across the sky, and a mighty wind was bending the trees, but it didn't bother her. Stormy days had always been her favourite, to her Mum's amazement and to Grandma Molly's horror.

The lake was churning like a gigantic cauldron, and drops of cool water sprayed on Rose's nose as she sat down under a tree. A Merperson looked up from the lake, swishing her tail.

'Stupid James,' Rose said and pulled out a handful of grass. It left her hands cold and muddy.

'Need a hanky?'

A voice sounded somewhere near, but Rose couldn't see anyone. Not behind her, not on her left, not on her right...

A white piece of cloth drifted past her nose and settled quite beautifully on her knee. Rose looked up and saw Scorpius sitting on a sturdy branch, a book in his lap and his wand pointed towards the handkerchief.

'Oh, hello,' Rose said. 'Um, nice hiding place.'

Scorpius shrugged.

'Does the job. So, what's got your knickers in a twist?'

'Just some family stuff. Nothing much. I came here because I thought there wouldn't be anyone here on a day like this.'

Scorpius closed his book and pocketed his wand. He jumped down, landing straight in front of Rose, who took a quick step backwards. She could smell a faint whiff of warm sandalwood.

'I like stormy days,' Scorpius said. 'So, does this family stuff by any chance have anything to do with the power duo?'

'What power duo?'

'Saint Potters.'

'Why do you call them that?' For a moment, Rose forgot the uneasiness of standing so close to Scorpius. The darkness had again descended into his eyes, that flash of distant ache.

'I guess it's just something I picked up from my Death Eater Daddy.'

'Come on,' Rose said quietly. 'I wouldn't call your Dad that. So I don't like you using that tone with me. If you don't mind, of course,' she added hastily as Scorpius's mouth curved into a scowl. He didn't reply, just turned away and sat down, facing the lake. His hunched figure cut into Rose's heart like a knife, and her natural instinct would have been to pat him on the back, but she wasn't sure what kind of reaction that would produce. Time ticked on for what felt like hours, until distant peals of laughter sounded over the mountains like fairy bells, and Scorpius seemed to come alive again.

'It's true,' he said, staring into the murky depths of the water. 'You know what it's like, living with baggage, but you've lived with the good sort of baggage. People praise your parents and your family, expect great things from you. Wherever you go, people remember the good things your parents did. How your Mum was the brains of the operation, how your Dad destroyed one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, how your Uncle Harry finally beat Voldemort. Everywhere, you meet smiles.'

Rose shifted from one foot to another. It was true. Everywhere she went with her family, people smiled at them, complimented her parents, said how much she looked like her Dad and how proud she must be to have such parents. When Dad had broken his leg at work some years ago, people had sent food and gifts. Actually, they sent gifts fairly regularly. Every year on Remembrance Day, the house was flooded with flowers, chocolates, and tributes from people. "We remember"..."Our heroes"..."Thank you"... Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny got even more; their house was constantly full of gifts from all over the country and even abroad. They donated it all to charity, but new stuff arrived almost every day. Uncle Harry was often in the paper, too, and Grandma Molly had many newspaper clippings of him and of various other family members. Even Rose's birth had been announced in The Daily Prophet, and the following Sunday's issue had had ten pages of congratulations from people. Hugo's birth had had the same reaction. With James's birth, the paper had printed a whole extra issue on the Potters.

'Now, reverse that,' Scorpius said, still looking away from Rose. 'Imagine your family was on the other side, the side that fought on the side of the darkest wizard of all time. You get hate letters at home, letters that call your father and grandparents every name under the sun and wish you would die of a painful disease, so that your family would get what they deserve. Imagine when you go to school on your first day, everybody's glaring at you, booing after you, whispering behind your back. They've already built you in their minds; you are what your father was. Nobody bothers to check if you actually believe what he did, if you resemble him at all. And imagine this happening everywhere: at Diagon Alley, in the shops, in your home village. Everywhere, you meet frowns.'

Scorpius turned to Rose. His eyes were very bright.

'And you know what the fun thing is, Flower? My father is a recluse nowadays, has been since the war. He isn't interested in floating Muggles in the air in a demonstration of pureblood propaganda. He was only a little older than we when that stupid stuff happened. And yet, I still have to carry that load, try to tear myself away from that image.'

Rose knelt down in the damp grass, completely at loss for words.

Finally, someone who understood.