Here We Go Again

                                                                    Chapter 19: Tutoring Troubles

                                                                                 POV: Scorpius

"This is nice, isn't it?" Glancing away from the surprisingly nice day that we were having, I looked at the girl laying next to me. She had been silent just as long as I'd been, focused and dazed in the puffy clouds and blue sky.

A small smile stretched a corner of her lips. "You mean the day or this?"

Against the etiquette code of Malfoys, I rolled from my place to land at the side of the girl's. I propped myself up on my elbows, grinning at her with the goofiest grin I could allow myself to muster. "Definitely this."

"You charmer, Scorpius Malfoy."

"You liar, Emily Taylor."

Laughing, the dark-haired witch pulled herself into a sitting position. She pulled her long, black locks down to her sides; fluffing them down and removing the blades of grass that had weaved themselves in. "I guess we don't spend much time together nowadays, huh?"

"Who's fault is that?" I removed a hand from underneath my chin. I extended out a finger and jabbed her on her collarbone. "Little Miss Taylor, completely enthralled with James Potter. Incapable to pull herself away from her monster of a boyfriend to spend some time with her neglected best friend."

"You're not neglected," she chided, pulling my finger away from her. She held onto my hand, however. "And...let's not talk about James."

"Why not? If you two are on the verge of breaking up that'd be bloody fantastic, Ems. I didn't want to say anything these months you've been dating Potter, but I completely disapprove. I think you can do much better."

She shook her head, laughing lightly at me as she pinched the skin over my knuckles. "Yeah, somehow I missed the you not wanting complain about James and I. As I recall, you've kept a rivalry with my boyfriend all these months. Why, may I ask?"

"He's a git, a total tosser, a loser, will end up working at his uncle's shop, no future whatsoever, not funny at all, he's keeping us apart, clearly needs to be brought down a couple of pegs, not good enough for you—"

"I'm not good enough for him, you mean." Emily stopped my very long list of all the things that are wrong with the eldest Potter. "James is amazing to me, Scor, and you know it. I'm the one that doesn't deserve to have a guy as fantastic as him."

I frowned. "So, I'm guessing there's no breakup?"

She sighed. Her green eyes looked away from my face and back up at the sky. "I keep messing up, Scor. I wouldn't be surprised if he...if he decides to breakup with me. I'm too much to deal with."

My hand squeezed hers. "You're brilliant."

"I'm not," she huffed indignantly. I was a little surprised at the sudden hostility within her, the look of her emerald eyes as they narrowed into slits when they gazed back at me. Her pretty face was not peaceful and kind as it always was—she looked completely frustrated. "That's the problem. You, him...You both see me as something that I'm not, Scorpius. Why? Why do you two insist on seeing me like a puppy in training? Like I can't do anything wrong? Oh, she peed on the carpet, it's okay! She'll get better—well, maybe I won't! Maybe I'm never going to get better!"

Woah. I stumbled upon something I really didn't want to come across. I don't do good with infuriated witches.

Sigh.

Not like I have a choice, right?

There were only four women in the planet that I'd drop the Malfoy indifference for: My mother, my grandmother, Rose, and Emily. The way I felt for them, my love for them, made me—hesitantly and unwillingly—suck it up and put on a of-course-I-want-to-listen-to-what-you-have-to-say mask.

"Where's this coming from?"

She stopped after I voiced my question. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, released it, and then opened her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just...It's just I've got a lot on my mind. James is upset with me and I don't know how to fix it."

I rested my head over her lap. "I know how you can fix it: breakup with him."

I felt the smack beside the head coming before she raised her hand to do it. "Be nice, Scor."

A scoff passed my lips.

"How's your mother, by the way? I know it was the year anniversary of your uncle's death last week. How'd she take it?"

"Dad said she went to visit his grave for a few hours on her own. I don't think we really acknowledged the fact that my Uncle Alec's death affected her just as much as it affected Liam. He was her older brother, the one that always took care of her. People think that my Aunt Daphne and her were inseparable, but..."

"But she's a bitch?"

I laughed against her kneecaps. "Well said."

"Your mom is going to be fine," assured the American as she ran her fingers through my hair. "She's got your Dad. After a while it hurts a little less."

I didn't comment. She said it with a tone that suggested that her statement was accurate, but I knew she was lying. How does one get over the death of a loved one? She couldn't stop suffering over the passing of her parents and it'd been years now. I loved her to pieces, but she shouldn't be commenting on the process of healing and moving on when she knew nothing of it.

A silence had fallen on us again. This time we were much closer than before, but it wasn't as easy as the first one had been. But even though I enjoyed every moment I got with her, I was grateful when our time became interrupted when a redheaded witch appeared beside us.

"Lazing about, are you?"

"We would never!" Picking up my head and squinting my eyes, I smirked tauntingly at my girlfriend. "You insult us, Weasley."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure I am. After all, it's not Emily that left Nia alone working on their partnered essay in the common room. She's completely barking right now, Nia is. She just doesn't understand the breakage of spells to create new ones or to alter them."

"—Crap!"

"—Oi!"

On her feet, hectically pulling on her disregarded robes and picking up her schoolbag and wand, Emily hadn't even realized that she kicked my head and my face bounced off the grassy ground after she abruptly stood up and I lost my resting place.

"That hurt, Ems!"

"See you guys later!"

Sitting up, rubbing my nose, I glared at the redheaded Gryffindor. "You did that on purpose."

My girlfriend leered. "I did not. Nia really is on the verge of strangling everybody because she can't finish the introduction of the essay. Emily's supposed to be doing that bit."

"She's a bit spaced out, isn't she?"

"Em or Nia?"

"Both, now that you mention it, actually. It's scary. Are they on their menstruals or something?"

Rose scowled at me. "Don't be a tosser," she huffed. "Anyway, I don't have a tutoring session today. Apparently Louis, James and Freddie thought that it'd be funny to hide the Slytherin Qudditch team's clothing after their training yesterday so now they're serving three nights with Filch in the forest."

"Like that ever works."

"Who cares," she said distractedly as she lowered herself onto the grass and sat on my lap. She straddled me and I grinned like a proper hormonal boy. "We've finally have a night to ourselves without duties. I'm thinking after dinner we can head to the Astronomy Tower and be alone until curfew."

Placing my hands on her waist, my grin turned into a dim smile. "That's sounds lovely—"

"It honestly does,"

"—but I can't."

Her own smile disappeared and her brows knitted. "What do you mean you can't? Don't tell me you have detention, too."

"I...I promised Mulciber I'd give her an extra study-session tonight. She's got an exam at the end of the week and she wants to be completely prepared for it."

In the way she pulled herself away from my lap, one could've said I hexed her off. Her beautiful face was hosting all her anger and dislike for the Ravenclaw witch. "Have her find another tutor, then!"

"Rose—"

"No, Scorpius! I don't get this sudden friendship with her! She's the devil, for goodness sake!"

"Rose, you don't—"

"Of course I know her!" She was red like her hair. And it was the strangest thing: I'd never seen her this ticked before. She was always composed and understanding. "She's a bitch, Scorpius! You refuse to believe it, but she was a total cow with all the other girls! She was Belinda Rookwood's best friend, that should be enough proof that she's horrid!"

Maybe she shouldn't have brought up the dead. Maybe if she would've stopped from screaming out Belinda's name I wouldn't have felt the bubbles of fury grow a few degrees hotter in the pit of my abdomen. "Stop it, Weasley."

"I will not." She had lowered her voice but it was still aggravated. "Mulciber is a cow, Scorpius. How can you even be friends with—"

"Because she understands me!" My patience flew right into the wind and it was swept along with the leaves.

At my sudden shout, her lips zipped tightly together. Her fury was blatantly obvious, but her brown eyes were now looking like I told her that her owl had been eaten by a dragon.

Taking in a deep inhale, I waited for a moment to settle my frustration. We've been doing this a lot lately—fighting. We've never fought before. Not even when we were friends. Despite the tension surrounding us when we were younger—the I-fancy-you-but-do-you-fancy-me rubbish—we've always managed to get along. We fit together perfectly, loved each other dearly, and got on brilliantly. But the recent weeks it had been an argument after an argument.

She hated Madison Mulciber and I just couldn't understand why. We were both aware that the Ravenclaw was unlike most others, that she was stuck at the hip with most Slytherins, but from there no one knew anything. If Rose ever had problems with her, if any of the other girls in the castle had problems with her, I never heard them.

I only heard the things that mostly everyone whispered about Mulciber. It was the same things they whispered about those with the last names of Rookwood, Goyle, Malfoy, Flint, Nott, Rowle and the like. All purebloods; all descendants of Death Eaters.

"Look, Rose," speaking again, treading carefully, trying to be sensible to my girlfriend's opinion, "Mulciber and I...We have a different friendship than the one I have with Al or Emily. She understands how it is to be whispered about, judged and not fully accepted. Just because you don't hear the things people in this castle say about me, doesn't mean I don't hear them. You Potter/Weasleys are a massive group, no one says anything when I'm around you lot, but when I'm by myself? I hear it."

She was trying to subdue her anger, but all she accomplished was to furrow her brow and clench her right hand into a fist. "Some people are just ignorant, Scorpius," she said through her teeth. "They don't know you the way I do. They don't know what's beautiful about you, what's amazing and good-hearted. And it's a shame because they won't get a chance to love what our friends and I love about you. But to associate yourself with someone as awful as Mulciber—well, you're just insulting yourself."

"You don't know her," I snapped. "You see what you see, Rose. You're being just as ignorant as those others that whisper about us! If you got to know her you'd see that she's actually—"

"I already know her!" We were going nowhere. "She's the one that knocked me off my broom in our first Flying lesson, all under Belinda Rookwood's command! She's the one that let a snake loose on Nia and I in Third Year! She's the one that gossiped about me and our friends for years, Scorpius. She's a conniving, two-faced—"

"I'm not dealing with this," I hissed. Standing up from my seat on the grass, I picked up my schoolbag and threw the strap over my shoulder.

She frowned, but her brown eyes looked a little skeptical. "Scorpius, just listen to me and understand—"

"I understand that you want to choose my friends," I cut her off. "So you two had petty rivalry; that was then, Rose. She's different now."

"Well of course she's different when you're around! That didn't stop her from tossing my books to the floor two days ago in our Charms class!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow," I told her. "I made a commitment. And aren't you the one that's always on about holding our tutoring obligations in high regards?"

"Malfoy, don't—"

"Bye."

                                                                                    X

Piercing the dimly-lit, gloomy scene that the Potions dungeon gave, a round of giggles echoed off the walls and wrapped everything inside with a certain glimmer. It was strange, haunting in a sense, but it made the atmosphere what it currently was: light and relaxing.

"No, no," more giggles, "you can't add lacewing flies to a cauldron of Felix Felicis!"

I glanced down at the list of ingredients I had scribbled onto my parchment.

"And wormwood? Why on earth would you need wormwood? Where's your head, Malfoy?"

Another round of giggles echoed around the classroom as I furiously crossed off all the ingredients from my list. "This is embarrassing," I mumbled. "I'm the one supposed to be tutoring you."

Rolling her blue eyes at me, Madison Mulciber snorted as she snatched my parchment and my quill. "Yeah, well, you're tutoring me in History of Magic. I would never ask you to tutor me in Potions. You and I—and Professor Slughorn and everyone, really—know that you're absolutely rubbish at it. Bit odd, I'd say. Your father is one of the best potioneers Britain has ever seen."

"He's not a Potion-Maker," I huffed. "So Malfoy Industries has a department that supplies potions for research, so my father has conducted studies and invented a few potions—that doesn't make him a potioneer. In fact, he's currently doing investigations for the Aurors. He's not a potioneer."

Madison laughed, scrunching her nose a bit; making her freckles wrinkle along with her skin. "Draco Malfoy dabbles in everything, that's perfectly fine. But you have to admit that his invention of the—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I yanked my homework back from her, pulling a strand of her dirty-blonde hair for teasing. "Father's a gifted Potion-Maker and I can't even boil water at the right temperature. I'm much better in Charms and Arithmancy than he is, but no one bloody mentions that."

"Isn't your father working on a new Arithmancy textbook with Hermione Weasley?"

"That's a lie! Those two can't be in the same room without arguing. They can never work together without something transpiring—murder most likely." She chortled more and I turned to her, raising a brow. "Why do you know so much about us, Mulciber? Stalking me, are you?"

She scoffed mockingly, reaching over and pinching my arm. "I'm studying to be a Potion-Maker myself, Malfoy. Your family's company and the production your father has made is fascinating to me. And, it was in the history section of the last edition of my Practical Potioneer subscription."

I clucked my tongue in a disapproving manner. "You live a sad life, Mulciber. I'm sorry that you don't know what fun is."

A smirk pulled the right corner of her mouth. "If you're so experienced, Malfoy, perhaps you'd like to show me what fun feels like."

A smile spread on my face. Her blue eyes glittered in a way that I never thought eyes could glitter. I was more aware of her persona. Her blondish hair was curled today, just right above her shoulders and one side was slicked back and held with criss-cross pins. Her eyelashes were somehow thicker, rimming her eyes and making them more noticeable. Her skin was still pale, but their was a certain glow; like she'd been under the sunlight. And then there was this smell...There was an aroma of mint and chocolate that was radiating off of her since we first encountered each other.

It filled the room—and it was invading my senses to the point that my mind sometimes went fuzzy.

Bang.

"Filthy animals! That's exactly what you lot are—barbarians!"

The door to the Potion's chamber burst open and the disgraced, appalled, and infuriated voice of Professor Alan penetrated the walls of my study-room with no mercy. Louis, Freddie and Artie Weasley came shuffling after him.

"Oi, you can't talk to us that way! There's nothing in the student handbook that makes students stand this abuse! And this is what it is, Sir! It's abuse! I will call upon—"

"Silence!" Professor Alan hissed at Freddie. "You three are a disgrace to Gryffindor House! How dare you attack a group of students?! Second Years, no less! They're younger than you!"

Clearing his throat, Artie Weasley raised a hand in the air. "Technically, Professor, I'm a Second Year, too. We're the same age."

"We didn't do anything," spoke Louis, elbowing his little cousin roughly to shut him up. "We were honestly at the wrong place, at the wrong time. We're innocent in all this."

The professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts was not letting up on his anger towards the two Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff. He was seething, his body vibrating with it; his ponytail was going to pop right off at that rate.

"As head of Gryffindor, Professor Longbottom will not be happy that you've managed to lose his House three-hundred points in five minutes!" He turned to the smallest Weasley. "And as the head of Hufflepuff, I guarantee that you're going to receive a worse punishment than the hundred points deducted, Mister Weasley!"

"See, we disagree on that," retorted Louis, always opening his mouth when the moment least required it. "Neville will be pretty delighted that we managed to shake off the bullies that have been pestering his son Frankie. Just a First Year, the poor lad, and already being hung from the Qudditch posts by his knickers every Thursday. I'm sure we'll earn back those points lost."

It was Artie's turn to elbow his cousin. "Professor," he spoke quickly, a little nervous now, "I honestly had nothing to do with it. It's a misunderstanding, I swear it!"

"You're a shame to Hufflepuff House!" Turning from the three, Professor Alan marched to the back of the classroom; all while yelling and damning all the Weasleys.

Freddie sighed, leaning against a desk casually. "We'll be fine, mates."

"Says you!" Hissed Artie. "I told you we were going to get caught, you idiots! I'm a Second Year and I'm going to get expelled! What the hell am I supposed to do? Work as a house-elf?"

Freddie snorted. "Aunt Hermione would never allow it, Artie. If anything, I'm sure Dad would give you a job in the shop."

"Oi, Malfoy!" Finally getting noticed by the intruders, Louis Weasley narrowed his eyes as soon as he spotted me in the background of his new problems.

"Malfoy! How wonderful to see you, lad," Freddie jeered when he now was informed that I was there.

I frowned at him. "What are you twats getting punished for now? And can you take it outside?"

"We bejeweled the manly-bits of—"

"And who's that alluring witch next to you?" With another rough hit, Louis silenced the Hufflepuff. "I didn't know you had friends aside from us."

My frown deepened. "We're not friends, Weasley," I informed him. "And this is Madison Mulciber."

Freddie bowed at the Ravenclaw witch, grinning widely at her. Artie gave her a half-hearted wave, not looking interested. And Louis—well, the blonde Weasel looked exactly like most others did when a surname like Madison's was said.

The witch beside me narrowed her eyes the same way the Gryffindor was.

"Rosie know you're playing friends with her?" Louis blinked and focused on me now. "You've got a good reputation now that you're dating my cousin, Malfoy. Are you sure you want to dampen that with the likes of her?"

Before the bubbles of anger started formulating inside of me again, Professor Alana appeared once more.

"Not one drop of Veritaserum!" He exclaimed, waving a clear vial in the air angrily. "Rickman assured me he had a cauldron full of it! All I found was bottles filled with Amortentia!"

Freddie laughed loudly. "Ah! So the rumours are true! He is trying to smuggle the Love Potion to Filch!"

"Another ten points, Mister Weasley, for your blasphemous mouth," snapped Alan. He marched to them, gripping Artie by the back of his robes and started heading out of the classroom.

"Don't get so upset, Sir. I'm sure Filch will choose you in the end!" The redhead shouted, a look of great smug on his freckled face as he darted after the two.

"I doubt it," Louis huffed after frowning at Madison and I, following after the others now. "Filch only has eyes for Mrs. Norris."

The door shut behind the blonde Weasley with the same loud noise it'd opened with.

Coughing lightly next to me, Mulciber began to gather her belongings and shove them into her schoolbag.

"Mulciber?"

"I think we're done now," she mumbled, her hair flying towards her sides and staying there; hiding her face.

My left brow shot up. "What? Why?"

She stood from our shared benched, gripping the strap of her schoolbag. "Thanks, Malfoy. I'll see you—"

"Mulciber." I reached for her left hand, making her twist in an angle so she could face me. Those glittering blue eyes were now intense; hurt and angry. "He's a git, Mulciber. Don't pay any mind to—"

"I'm invisible," she said to me in a barely-there voice. "I'm invisible most of the time, Malfoy, and that's perfectly fine. And when I'm not, I'm the relative of Death Eaters. I'm not to be trusted." She tugged her wrist out of my grasp. "It's easy for you, isn't it? You've got a Weasley as your girlfriend, a Potter as a best friend, and the acceptance of their families and others that were hurt in the war. Not everyone likes you, yes, but they hate you less than they hate me."

She took a deep breath.

"If Belinda was still alive..."

"Don't," I told her, reaching for her wrist again. "Don't bring up the dead, Mulciber."

"Why not? Everyone hated her, too. We were hated together—a Rookwood and a Mulciber. At least with her I had a friend."

I pulled her back down onto the bench. "We're friends now, aren't we? You're not alone."

Maybe she shouldn't have brought up the dead. Maybe she shouldn't have brought up the fact that we had another thing in common, that we were probably the only people in the castle that hurt over Belinda Rookwood's death last year. Maybe it was the way that we understood each other. Maybe it was the fact that her blue eyes were gleaming, gleaming, gleaming, and looking so sad. Maybe it was the fact that she leaned in and I couldn't breathe.

Maybe it was the smell of mint and chocolate coming off her robes, hair, skin, mouth, and tongue that made me lose my senses. Literally. My mind went blank, turning off, and my sight was filled with just blue.

We were kissing and a part of me was forced to shut up and deem it acceptable.

Something was not right, but we kept kissing.