Drowsily I woke to the sound of Hazel coming back from work. Anthony was curled up on the couch, and the movie we had been watching had ended— another show I didn't recognize was playing on the TV. My heart stirred as I looked at my once-closest friend, who these days had had dark shadows underneath her eyes and whose hair looked as if she had gotten electrocuted.

She turned on the kitchen light, and I blinked in the sudden change. Then I realized that her hair was brushed, and she wore different clothes than the ones to work.

She was with Brennan. My lips pursed with jealously and my heart sank.

"Hey Albus." Hazel strode closer to the couch, then leaned on it with one hip stuck out. Whispering on account of Anthony she said, "Watching anything good?"

"No." I said coldly, and instinctively touched the pad of paper in my jeans pocket. The Ministry had given it to me to give to Hazel... but I couldn't. It would upset her too much. Looking up, I saw her grey eyes looking at me sadly. I felt a pang for my distance. "Are you okay?" I asked. But no matter how much I didn't want them to, the words came out cold and filled with bitterness.

Straightening up, Hazel tried to look as if I hadn't heard her crying in her room every night; if she hadn't sent owl after owl to the Ministry, pleading to see Scorpius one last time; if she hadn't drowned herself in work for weeks in trying to ignore... everything.

"I'm fine." She smoothed back her hair, then looked at me like a puppy would for treats. "Any word on getting Scorpius a trial?"

"No." I turned on my side to face the television.

I felt Hazel's sad grey eyes looking at me. "Albus... you do understand how important it is that Scorpius gets a trial?" When I gave no answer she struck me on the back of the head.

"Ouch!" I yelped. I lifted my hands to heaven. "What do you want from me, Hazel?"

I expected her to start yelling or hitting me. Instead she just looked at me. "Just care."

"And how would you want me to do that?" I said with loathing. "I tried to care about you, Hazel, and look where it got me!"

"You wanted to marry me!" Hazel scowled. "And just because I don't love you like that I'm constantly being pushed away! Just be my friend, Albus. Be like we used to!" Her voice trembled. "All those years... Just the two of us... friends."

My heart ached. I wanted to go back to the days where we would laugh and talk without thoughts of romance or anything else cluttering up our thoughts. But...

"That will never happen." I was surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth. "You hate me for loving you too much, and I hate you for not loving me enough."

"Just let go," Hazel growled. "Albus, there will be nothing you can do to make me marry you. I am sorry— I've told you that hundreds of times. I do love you but not as a wife. You can do nothing to change that."

I swallowed and looked at her. "I know that, Hazel," I whispered. My anger had disappeared. "But that doesn't mean I'll stop trying."

There were many disadvantages of being related to Rose Mal— Weasley. The constant nagging, scornful remarks about my O.W.Ls, her dreadful moods. But one advantage I had recently discovered was that Rose happened to be the Minister of Magic.

Which meant I had at least a little power.

Before I had even closed the door I announced, "You have to give Scorpius Malfoy a trial, Rose." I couldn't live with Hazel looking at me like she no longer knew who I was. There was something I had to do to make her see me-- not the person who wanted so desperately to marry her; not the person who hated her boyfriend so much; not the person who was trying to raise their son without a mother.

She had to see the old me. 

My cousin looked up from the cup of coffee she was staring at. I noticed that her jumper was stained, her hair was pinned back in a very messy bun. Dark circles rimmed her eyes.

Rose didn't look at me for long, she only reached into a drawer, extracted a large tome, and slammed it on the desk. A plume of dust exploded in her face. She stared at me.

"No." It was clear that I was dismissed.

I clenched my fists. "Do you remember what happened the last time the Ministry failed to give an Azkaban prisoner a trial? Sirius Black was in that vile place for thirteen years before escaping. And even then, he could never live free. Do you want that to happen to Scorpius?"

Rose's blue eyes hardened at the mention of her husband. "Better to not live free than living without a soul." She sighed and put her head in her hands. One hair pin slid free of her dark red hair and plopped into her coffee. "Albus... Scorpius cannot have a trial. The Americans will give him the Dementor's Kiss."

I took an unsteady breath at the sound of the dreaded punishment. "How do you know?"

"She told me."

"You're protecting Scorpius?" Nothing had ever felt so alien to me before than the fact that Rose had feelings. I mean, sure, she was married, but I had never seen the emotional part of her relationship. A thrum of joy went through me when I imagined Hazel when learning that her brother wouldn't lose his soul. "Maybe she won't hate me anymore..."

"What?"

My cheeks flushed. "It's just... Hazel—"

Rose stared at me. "Albus I don't care about your love life. Or any other part of your life. But you cannot tell her about any of this."

I gaped at her. "But Rose, Hazel..."

"Do you know what anybody would do if they found out that I wasn't fulfilling the wishes of the majority of the Department heads in order to protect my husband? I would never get another job— or at least a good one— at the Ministry again!"

"And there you are," I said sharply. "That sweet and caring Rose is boxed up for another thirty years, and back to the workaholic, tight-strung woman I've known and hated for so many years." I turned to leave her office but faced her once more as I thought of yet another thing to blame her for. "I hope you realize that you have ruined my chances of trying to make Hazel my friend again. Good day, Minister," I spat, and swung the door open so it crashed into the wall.

"Albus!" In spite of my anger I turned to see Rose staring angrily at me. She folded her arms. "You are such a child," she whispered. "Can't you see what is right in front of your face?

"The only problem in your friendship is you."