Here We Go Again

Chapter 8: Bested by Gryffindors

POV:Scorpius

If there were two things that have never happened in the history of being Scorpius Malfoy it was begging and listening to a Gryffindor. (Especially one who wasn't a girlfriend.) So with that mentality and way of being for the past sixteen years of life, why the hell was I currently sitting in a chair I've never sat in in all my life, and why the hell was I making a face that suggested deep pleading? I was sure that my grandfather Lucius was rolling in his grave for such a distasteful expression on my inherited Malfoy-features.

None of this would have happened if I hadn't decided to stick around to have dinner last night with the Gryffindors when the only three Gryffindors I care about—my girlfriend Rose, my best friend Emily, and my cousin Liam—were stuck in the library going through large amount of textbooks and old articles for a Defense Against the Dark Arts project they'd been partnered up for. Instead of mingling with my fellow house-mates, listening to their pranks on those with the ruby and gold, I sat with the enemy and listened to two Weasleys and a Potter go on about relationships. And when Potter had suggested that maybe after graduation, after Emily had completed her education too, they'd find a good little flat somewhere, maybe in the Muggle World because his girlfriend was thoroughly accustomed to their electricity-powered items, I snorted.

Potter turned to me with his natural annoyance of me in his eyes, but then said something along the lines of, 'Find that funny, do you, Malfoy? You and your family might be all chummy with us and other creatures in the world, but you still believe that muggles are useless, don't you?'

After that had happened, I should've known to just flip Potter the finger and then walk off somewhere, probably to go interrupt Al and Harper's little date in a secluded classroom on the fourth floor, but of course I didn't. I sat there, ready to explain to the oldest, dimwit Potter that I snorted because I really didn't find the thought about him and my best friend living together in the future appealing. But of course, again, I did something else that I've never done. I allowed a Potter to cut across me.

With a smirk on his stupid face, the Seventh Year Gryffindor spoke with a little too much knowledge for my liking. 'You know, Rose inherited her mother's childhood home from her grandparents. They were muggles, Malfoy. And she's always talked about living there, even going into a muggle university once she's out of Hogwarts. I wonder how long you two will last when you're not allowed to bring a house-elf to do everything for you.'

And that's how I failed at being a Malfoy. I listened to a Potter's teasing, half ass-ed words and I skipped out on my first break of the day to come and talk to the less enchanting teacher in the entire castle. (I deserved the shame, honestly.)

"We're six weeks into term, Mister Malfoy." The beady, dark eyes of Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, looked at me with complete seriousness and no sympathy; even through my puppy-dog eyes. "I cannot move around your schedule when I've never allowed that for other students. Your classes for this year were chosen due to your scores in your O.W.L's and your aim at a future career."

I nodded calmly at the elder woman. "I know, Headmistress," I began, "but I really do think I can afford to drop one of my electives. It won't change any of the required classes, and I promise to work hard. I can even talk to the professor; I'm sure he'll allow it."

"You have an impeccable schedule here, Mister Malfoy," she pointed a finger at my timetable resting before her, "and I don't think that switching anything will be beneficial. I'm sorry."

The ending of the conversation was a second away from being rung when she slid over the schedule towards me, but I reacted fast. "Wait, wait," I said hurriedly, standing from my chair and looking thoroughly conflicted. "My choice of career in the years to come is to study business—"

"Particularly because you have a dynasty of business corporations to run in your future. Yes, Mister Malfoy, I'm aware."

I frowned at her momentarily. I wasn't going to study business because I had the Malfoy businesses to run! Yes, it was an inherited duty that I take over them once my father retires, but it's also something I'm generally interested in. The Headmistress' stereotypical thought was not appreciated.

"Anyway," I had to control myself not to snap since I still needed her on my side. "I really do think I can afford to drop Divination for Muggle Studies, Professor. I won't be needing Divination for the field I plan to study, and neither Muggle Studies for that matter, but the latter can really prove beneficial."

"How so?"

Fuck. "Erm, well... I do think that Muggle Studies will influence my lifestyle in the years to come."

She rose a grey, barely-there eyebrow at me. "You plan to integrate yourself in muggle society?"

"I'm inclined to, yeah." Even though I responded that, did I even know if that was true? I mean, Rose never discussed moving into that house her grandparent's left her; nor did I feel inclined to learn all about muggles and their ways before. Why was I doing this? As I precaution in case Rose wouldn't ditch me if she somehow thought I didn't appreciate the fact that she has muggle blood in her, or was I doing this to shut James Potter's mouth? "...And because, thinking broadly here, Professor, I might even want to expand my family's corporations to the muggle world." (Yes, that was a better, believable answer.)

"If you were ever to do something like that, Mister Malfoy, you will be making history." The woman relaxed into her royal-looking chair as she pulled back my schedule to her. "You're father has been working hard for years to restore your family's name, and he's done admirably in doing so. Draco Malfoy is a changed man, that I am aware of, but you, his legacy, will further prove that he had redemption and a good heart. He's raised you well."

I deflated, sagging back onto my chair. The old witch was giving me her dim smile, her words actually complimentary, and I felt like a complete twat.

It'd be a lie if I didn't say that I've tried to make my own choices and personality differ from that of my father's during his time at school. It isn't easy being a Malfoy on some occasions, especially when there's people who don't move on from the war, who still mourn what they lost, and who still point fingers at the people who were responsible for that destruction toll. I got pointed at, glared at, shoved some times, judged for my surname, sometimes not given a chance, and it was hard but not so wounding as I got older. I expected things to get better with time, they had for my father—though not respected in every circle out in the world, he was cared for in the pure ones; by the people that knew he had redeemed himself and was worth a second chance. But with that time, I guess I never really acknowledged the fact that he's worked hard at it.

And I was here for some rubbish reasons, pretending to add to the cause and change. (Fucking Potter. He'll pay for this.)

Before my conscience decided to speak up and make a mess over the one I had already created by not thinking, the door to the Headmistress' office banged open. Turning in an angle, I got a flash of blonde hair and blazed eyes.

"Miss Harper!"

"He kicked me out!" Not bothering to see the old woman's infuriated eyes for such disruption, Nia Harper started shouting with so much feeling and hurt in her voice that if I hadn't been looking at her, I wouldn't have known that it was her. She was never anything but controlled and bossy. "That bloody, poor-excuse of a man threw me out!"

McGonagall was never the woman to show sympathy for other students, especially ones disrespectful and abrupt, but she surprised me when she dropped a little bit of her anger. "What happened?"

From my chair, almost like I was background and no one noticed that I was there anymore, I saw thick tears fall from Harper's blue eyes. Her usually rosy cheeks were far more pigmented than normal, her hands were shaking, and she looked far from composed. "He's barmy, that's what!" She cried more. "He was going on and on about the damn Goblin Rebellions again, and for Merlin's sake, Professor, we need to move it along! It's a N.E.W.T class! And I told him so, and the bloody old ghost lost it! He started ranting like a mad man and then he decided to chuck me!

"How is it my fault he's incompetent?! I'm a Sixth Year, exams and Seventh Year aren't far, and I can't waste my time! I want to learn, Professor! And he just drifts off like we can afford to waste that time—well, he's fucking dead! Of course he can! But the rest of us still have plenty of life ahead of us!"

Harper was still shaking, tears still falling from her eyes, and the Headmistress looked at her impassively. "Professor Binns has been teaching in this castle for centuries, Miss Harper," her tone was mild. "However, I do know that Cutbert can be a bit nonchalant in his teachings, but you still owe him some respect. Had you the need to express your displeasure in his class, all you had to do was talk to me and handle this situation correctly."

The blonde girl pressed her lips into a tight line, but her tears were still rolling down. She didn't look angry like she usually did, but she truly looked wounded. "I need that class, Headmistress," her voice cracked with emotion; something that I've never encountered on her before. "If he doesn't take me back I can't take the N.E.W.T's and...and...There goes my future! I've worked hard, Professor, you know that!"

"I'm aware of your struggles, Miss Harper," the woman replied almost blankly. And just as I assumed that she was going to kick the crying girl down, McGonagall rose up from her chair. "Class should be finishing up right about now. I'll go have a word with Professor Binns."

Harper nodded her head, but she kept it down as the Headmistress left the office. Her shoulders were shaking, and I knew that she was crying as silently as she could.

It was more than awkward now. I've always encountered the Nia Harper with all that sass, the bitchiness, and the aggressiveness. I wasn't really aware she could cry. Al must be the only one to get to see different sides of this girl, but as someone who always just received frowns and snorts of distaste, this was all but odd.

"Binns is a downright tosser." The words left my mouth before I even thought thoroughly about what I should do. Obviously I should've snuck out, the girl wasn't even aware I was in the room—but of course these Gryffindors make me stupid. "I'm sure McGonagall will sort everything out."

Harper turned to face me. She stopped shaking with that past distress she came in with, but trails on her cheeks were still kept wet. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Just came in to fix my schedule," I said carelessly. "Listen, Harper, it'll be alright. No need to cry over something as unimportant as this. I don't think a teacher can actually kick a student out of their lessons."

"That's rich," she snapped at me, those blue eyes glaring like they normally did when directed at me. "Of course this seems unimportant to you! What seems like petty problems to you are generally great concerns for others!"

Not helping it, I rolled my eyes. "Calm down, Harper. I'm just trying to make you see a little reason here. He can't kick you out of the class. Don't worry about it."

"How can I not worry about it?!" Merlin, she was just going to yell my ears off. "The school can go down the fucking toilet, Malfoy, and it wouldn't even matter for you! You have a fortune waiting for you! I don't have that luxury! I have to work hard here to be able to go to a university after!"

"Don't throw that back at me!" This really wasn't going to end well. Nia and I could just never speak like adults, there was just always so much resentment. (An emotion that just surged the first time we met since we were toddlers.) "The fact that I have money doesn't make me more important than anyone, Harper; I know that! I'm fucking tired of you using that as an excuse to hate me!"

She took a step closer to me, hands shaking again in anger. "Everything is just so bloody easy for you, Malfoy! And you might not think you're above everyone, but you don't realize that we can't all call our fathers to make situations better!" Tears fell down her cheeks again. And when I thought there was going to be more yelling, more useless screaming from her part, she slid down onto the open chair across from me and began sobbing into her palms.

Nia Harper is Liam's, my cousin, best friend since they were four. Nia came from a family who hated the Malfoys with every fiber of their being. And what was slightly different than the majority of the population that does hate my family is that the Harpers were pureblooded, and fallen from grace just like us—and not to mention the fact that my grandfather killed her grandfather by order of the Dark Lord. She grew up with her father's hostility towards my family, as such, she treated me like I was scum; and in retaliation, I was just as hostile.

We were sixteen now, twelve years have passed since we first met, but Harper and I don't have a friendship like with the others of our group. She's strong-minded and aggressive ninety-seven percent of the time, but she was also a girl who wanted to please her father. She kept up the hostility while I discovered that I didn't hate her, I just found our arguments amusing. And somewhere underneath her cold exterior, I know she doesn't hate me either. She's just comfortable keeping the charade, and I've learned to please her by keeping it too.

But as I saw her there, literally crying her eyes out, looking depressed over losing something that means a lot to her, it was enough to drop the charade for a few moments and be the friends we secretly are.

"...He can't kick you out of his lessons for good." I rose up from my chair and took a few steps towards her, kneeling down in front of her. "It's going to be fine."

She didn't stop crying and she didn't remove her hands from her face so her response came out muffled. "He can fail me. And if he does...I won't be able to take my N.E.W.T's for it and I'll lose the...I'll lose the scholarship I've been working for since I was eleven."

"Scholarship?" I didn't even try to take a minute to hide my confusion.

"Percy Weasley started a foundation twenty years ago to help graduates go to universities after Hogwarts," she breathed, removing her hands from her face now. Her blue eyes were rimmed red, and I was a little surprised that she was speaking to me with a whisper-like voice. "Hogwarts sends out a notice about it to families with low incomes when their child's first year starts...And in their Sixth Year, they pick twenty of those kids and they continue to pressure those with the highest marks." A few more tears fell from her eyes. "I'm f-fifth."

Adding this to the list of things that have never happened to Scorpius Malfoy in his sixteen years of life, I grabbed Harper's hands and squeezed them tightly. "You're brilliant," the was another for the list, "and I would've never guessed any of this, but you deserve it. And because you've work hard I know it's going to work out for you, Harper."

She looked down at our hands and I saw the conflicted expression flicker across her pale, beautiful features. Her natural reaction was to rip her hands away, curse me, but she was allowing me to comfort her. (Rather, accepting the fact that I was.) "...Don't tell Al, Liam or Rose about this," she said quietly. "I don't want them to know."

"Why not? It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It embarrasses my father." Her blue eyes found their way to my silver ones, and as another point on my list, she wasn't actually scowling at me. She looked saddened once again, but this time there was a lot more regret in there. "...And don't tell anyone what I'm about to say either."

I raised my eyebrow.

"I don't hate you," she exhaled out through her teeth. "You know I don't, Malfoy. It's just...It's so easy to act like it, you know? I hate hypocritical people, yet I am one. And...you're a good friend."

I couldn't help it, I smirked wildly. "Can I get that in writing?" She rolled her eyes at me but laughed lightly. "Don't worry about it, Harper. About any of this."

She squeezed my hands in return so quickly that I almost thought I imagined it.

"And if McGonagall can't work it out, I can always use my fortune and make a scholarship just for you." My smirk wasn't gone; I was putting things back in their rightful place. "It'll be the I'm-Nia-Harper-And-A-Sexy-Malfoy-Sent-Me-To-School scholarship."

"You great fucking tosser," she said with an exasperated sigh as she tore her hands away from mine.

I really should've seen the punch coming.

                                                                                       X

Strolling casually into the library, looking devilishly handsome as always, even after a long day of nothing but lessons and shaming the Malfoy name, a grin tugged at my mouth when I quickly spotted what I'd been looking for.

"Well, if it isn't two of my favorite witches," I said once I got close enough. My grin was still on my face, but it got wider when mesmerizing brown eyes glanced at me; shaking my world up in their amber shade and flecks of gold that could light up an entire room.

"Hey, Scor." Rose smiled beautifully at me.

I was a complete sucker because of the way my senses started reacting. It was like every cell inside of me was coming alive by just looking at her. "Still working hard on your D.A.D.A project?" I asked. My girlfriend nodded, lifting up a book; a smile still gracing me. "Oi, Emily. A greeting would be nice, you know."

The dark-haired girl scanning through a giant book across my girlfriend said nothing. It was like she didn't even hear me.

"She's really concentrated on her part," Rose told me as she rose up off her seat. "I honestly couldn't have asked for better partners for this. Even Liam's fully dedicated. He's off talking to some of the older professors about his research."

I snorted. "Weasley, I think they do it so they won't have to deal with your anger later if you don't get anything more than an O on it."

"I deserve it and you know it. And besides, I'm pushing them to their full-potential." She smirked. "Anyway, I've got to run. I need to talk to the McGonagall about getting my new tutoring schedule."

Watching her collect her belongings I frowned as I tossed myself on the seat she left open in the circular table. "Need I start failing my classes so I can spend time with you, Rose? You're doing nothing but tutoring random gits these days."

"You start failing your classes, Malfoy, and we're through." Her smirk was still tugging at her luscious lips and her brown eyes were filled with lighthearted amusement. She bent a few inches down to me, looking at me intently to bully me into something. "I love you and all, but I simply cannot be with an idiot. Besides, think about your family's companies you'll be sending down to the toilet. You're gorgeous, Malfoy, but that won't feed you once your looks fade."

"Why the hell is everyone talking about the Malfoy corporations today?! I can be a bloody Quidditch player if I wanted; I don't have to just be my father's heir."

My redheaded girlfriend laughed at my annoyance. "I'll cut my tutoring session with Louis short today, Scor. I'll see you then." She bent a few more inches and pressed her lips softly onto mine.

Some of my fellow house-mates always ask what a Slytherin could possibly see in a Gryffindor, a goody-too-shoes Weasley no less, and to that I really don't have an answer. (Not that it's any of their business anyway.) But I think that once they feel what I feel—that surge of power when Rose was close, whether an inch or a yard, the way it felt like life was complete, like I was complete—then they'd stop asking stupid fucking questions.

Waving a hand at Rose as she walked away, I waited until she was fully out of the library before focusing on anything else. And once a pack of Hufflepuffs had burst through, I turned back to the other person I'm always willing to give all my attention to. "Hey, Em—"

"I'm researching." The American picked up her giant book and tapped her index finger on the cover to emphasize her point. She still didn't bother to look at me.

"Well, can you stop for a moment? I feel like I haven't spoken to you in ages." Seriously, why is it that some of the most important people in my life have been M.I.A these past few days? It's not right; I need attention too.

Emily flipped the page of her book. "Why don't you just crack open your Potions book and study for a while yourself, Scorpius? I know you need it."

"I don't—"

"As much as you're your father's son, you didn't inherit his ability or love for potion-making. Not to mention your mark in the O.W.L's was horrible." She flipped another page again.

Frowning, I reluctantly placed my schoolbag over the surface of the table. "If I do promise to study, you mind giving your best friend some—"As I spoke and opened the latch of my schoolbag and some of my books and notes fell out for my lack of organizing, I groaned when I saw that a bottle of ink had also jumped out. It was currently now splattered all over me. "For fuck sakes."

"Scourgify." Finally looking away from her blasted book, Emily had her attention focused on the mess I made. She cast a quick spell, and soon enough bubbles of soap were washing all the ink on the table and on the material of my schoolbag with ease.

"That's why I don't come to the library," I huffed as I crossed my arms over my chest. The bubbles had disappeared and everything was perfectly clean. "Or listen to damn Gryffindors. It's all just fucking rotten luck."

"I should use that spell to wash out your mouth, Scorpius."

Seeing as her book was long forgotten, I stared right into the girl's emerald eyes as she pointed her wand at me. There was a bit of amusement glittering in her orbs and I was tempted to just smile and forget about the little incident that had just ruined my mood. "Well, if it gives me some of your time I'm all up for it."

A smiled appeared across her features. "I do miss you," she said in her usual soft tone. "I don't want you to think I'm blowing you off or anything, I just have a lot going on at the moment."

"Yeah. Between schoolwork, dealing with Rose's demands on a perfect project, and your boyfriend who hates me, I can see why I've not seen you around."

Parents are always saying to think before you talk to avoid problems, and frankly, that's a lesson I should remember. Usually I'm sensitive about other people and their feelings, and I think myself a kind bloke, but sometimes the Malfoy-blood in me really is like a plague. If I feel cheated or neglected I'll just send all care away and say something that I normally wouldn't.

In this case, I knew that speaking about James Potter and his almost obsessive love for Emily was a subject that should never be touched. It's not like Emily doesn't dabble and tells me a bit about her relationship, we are friends—it's just that that's exactly why we don't bring up Potter. It's no secret he doesn't like the type of relationship his girlfriend and I have, and even though it can be slightly justified, our grudge on one another isn't. To not upset the balance, we put up with each other and keep our insults when Emily's around to ourselves.

"James would never..." She let out a sigh, stopping herself as her smile and amusement died. "I would never give you up for James, Scorpius," she breathed, looking at me like she was in some sort of discomfort. "I love both of you; you know that. It's just that...James and you...You both are..."

I knitted my brows. "We both are what? If you say complicated I'm going to be upset. He's the one that doesn't like me."

Her forehead creased slightly in a frown. "He doesn't hate you," she defended. "The matter is that both of you want something from me that I can't give you. And because I can't, because the issue is with me, but you can't see that, you turn on each other and make it a competition."

"I don't know what you're talking about." (Fuck. I really do, though.)

"If it wasn't for James constantly being in detention, he would be sitting right across from me too and demanding some of my attention. And you know why? Because I'd probably be avoiding him the way that I'm subconsciously doing to you," she confessed. And as someone who always kept her feelings and everything bottled up, I was a little shocked at her honesty. "So you want to know what the problem with you two is? You're both trying to fix me!"

At the way her voice grew higher, making some nearby people turn, she had to give herself a moment to settle. And as she breathed in for a few seconds, I noticed that the exterior of being busy was completely shattered and now she just looked almost desperate and anxious. It was like I said something that opened up the gates and now there was a possibility of things coming out.

"I love both of you so much," she continued, but this time with that whisper-like voice of hers. "And I appreciate the fact that you two care so much about me, but you...I'm alright, okay? Both of you need to get that. I'm okay."

Clearing my throat, I leaned a little closer to her; putting as much sincerity into my face as I could. "Don't get me wrong, Em, but I really don't think you are." She stiffened at my words, looking conflicted and slightly panicked. "You might be all smiles on the outside and when you're around us, but we all notice you when you don't think anyone is around." She had the sleeves of her white button-up rolled up and I saw the thin, red lines that raced up her pale arms. "You're like my sister, Emily. I know you."

Her hands were on the tabletop and I notice her fingers twitch nervously.

"Rose and Harper have mentioned that they've woken up to your screams in the night," I went on. "You wake up looking tormented and like you've just relived all your worst memories in your dreams. That wouldn't happen if you were actually trying in your sessions with the Healer."

The dark-haired girl's expression looked saddened, like someone had just killed her puppy. "...Nothing helps," she muttered almost helplessly. "I've tried everything...Potions the Healer prescribes, methods Mister Potter uses to repress memories of the war he fought...Occumelency to close off my mind...I've tried it all, Scorpius, and the memories keep coming back."

I really wished I would've kept my mouth shut when I had the chance. The way she looked up at me, broken and scared, I felt instantly inept. She was my best friend, my sister, and the horrors of her past were the only things I can't defend her from. And maybe she's right, Potter and I—as two of the blokes that are most important in her life—do compete to try and free her of them. The reality is, however, that neither of us can help her. And that reality was complete fucking rubbish.

"I see him all the time," she spoke again, unaware of my uneasiness. "His face...I can feel what he did to me all over again and I...I can't even kiss my boyfriend without being terrified. I'm just not going to be the same."

I grabbed onto one of her hands immediately. "No one expects you to forget what Lance Greyback did to you, Emily." I winced, she winced, and then tears welled up in her eyes at the mention of the cursed name. "But we just expect you to try. Don't let the nightmares win, Em. You've got all your life ahead of you...And...I can't believe I'm saying this, but your relationship with Potter depends on it too. He hurts along with you...We all do."

Thinking that I was starting to speak coherently and wisely now, I was surprised when she tore her hand away from me. Her green eyes were still holding in tears, but there was also a furious gleam in them. "I didn't ask him to stick around!" My own eyes grew wide at her anger and choice of words. "And I didn't ask any of you to do so either! This is my problem, my pain, and all of you should just leave me alone!"

"Emily, wait! I didn't—" I was cut short when she quickly gathered her things and turned on her heels. She moved fast that by the time I decided to even do anything, she was already shoving her way through a few people.

Best friend or not, I grabbed the books and notes that fell out of my bag and shoved them back in, standing up angrily—I was not going to let another Gryffindor get the best of me. "Emily!" I called, ignoring the turning faces and the school's librarian frowning at me.

"Shh!" As I was passing I caught Alice Longbottom's glare.

"You're not even reading anything!" I snarled at her.

Her glare turned from gloomy to aggravated. "I don't care. I'm a Prefect, Malfoy, don't make me give you detention."

"Stuff it," I snapped, giving her the finger. (If three Gryffindors have already got the best of me, a Hufflepuff was certainly not going to be added to that list.) "Emily—Uff!" I was cut short of my irritated shout when someone collided into me.

My schoolbag was knocked down from my shoulder. And since I didn't bother to close the bloody thing up when I stuffed everything in there, everything in there came out from it. "For fuck sakes! Can't you bloody well look where you're going?!" I hissed, stomping on one of my books in my frustration.

I bent down to collect my belongings when I found someone already doing so for me. We were both on the ground, kneeling to pick up my things, and then unfamiliar blue eyes looked right into my greys ones. They were not light and icy like Nia's, but they were almost dark like a murky sky.

"...I'm sorry for my outburst," I mumbled with a little shame. "I should've really been—"

"Malfoy, will you leave already?! I'm trying to sit here!" Alice Longbottom shouted at me, looking more threatening than before.

I rolled my eyes at the Hufflepuff. "There's bloody miles of sitting-space outside, Longbottom! Go get lost in some!" I turned away from her as soon as I felt my schoolbag being thrust into my hands. "Oh, you didn't have to—" But my thanks would've been in vain and unheard. That girl with the strange eyes was long gone.