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A/N  Thanks for reading guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy reading.



     Stupid bloody Malfoy. Stab. Always goes and ruins everything. Stab. He couldn't just leave me be! Stab. Why is he so damn stubborn?! Stab, stab, stab. 



     "Rosie?" My head snapped up when I heard Melissa's timid voice.


     "What?" Shit, I sounded scary.


     "Just, erm, why are you mutilating your breakfast?" I glanced down at my plate. It closely resembled my mum's meatloaf special after it'd been through a food processor. I let the fork I'd been white-knuckling clatter onto the plate.


     "It's just sexual tension. Rosie's got needs." Dominique mock whispered so that anyone sitting with five yards of us could probably hear.


     Albus spluttered on his juice while I turned an unbecoming shade of red. Cursed Weasley genes. "I do not have needs." I hissed vehemently, making a few more heads turn our direction. By then I most likely resembled an over-ripe tomato.


     "You better not! I'm not above sending anyone to St. Mungos." Albus said, completely serious. "And I'll get Johnny boy over here to help me." He jerked a thumb towards Zara and Melissa's triplet, John. 


     "Happy to help, mate." He said, raising his glass and downing the contents.


     "As if Aunt Ginny wouldn't kill you afterwards." I said, rolling my eyes.


     "And I don't exactly want my favorite brother expelled, now do I?" Zara said, raising an eyebrow at John. 


     "My dear sister, I happen to be your only brother, but I'm glad I made the cut." He said, smiling widely. I went back to stabbing my food, imagining Malfoy's git face screaming in pain. I could be such a child. A weird, messed up child with emotional issues that a lot of people didn't know about.


     Somehow, the topic of me was sufficiently dropped and I was able to continue to stab my scrambled mess of a plate in peace. Until I decided to look up. Straight into the eyes of Malfoy. He crooked a thumb towards the hallway and mouthed something that, unfortunately looked like "Talk. Now." 


     I mouthed back "Eat. Food." And brought my fork to my mouth. I had officially tasted something worse than mum's meatloaf. Grimacing, I turned away from him. The prospect of stabbing anything wasn't as fun anymore. 


     "Hey, Liam!" I tensed and gripped my fork tighter as Albus shouted his name. Don't invite him to sit with us. Don't make room. There isn't room. No room, no more room. I mentally begged Albus to let him sit with the other seventh year boys up the table from us. I knew in the back of my mind that there was a small possibilty of that, since they were best friends. All you need to do is say hello. Just let him walk on by. I looked up to see him wave back to Albus.


     "Come sit, mate!" Albus waved him over with an arm, almost smacking me in the process. I felt my stomach drop and my heart skip a few beats. "Oh, sorry Rosie. Scooch over to make some room, would ya?" 


     "No, it's fine. I was just leaving." I stood up, spilling my juice in the process. 


     "Merlin, Rose! Where's the fire?" Zara asked jokingly.


     "I-I have to take care of head stuff. Bye."


     "But you've hardly eaten anything!"I turned and walked as quickly as I could, ignoring Mellisa and keeping my head down as he passed by. 


     "Hello, Rose." His voice only made my muscles coil tighter. The noise in the Great Hall changed. People’s cutlery started to clatter more and bang loudly off people’s plates. Glasses tinkled and seemed about to smash. Voices came and went in a roar. The sound of laughter from the tables was very raucous and became almost deafening. 


     I realized I still hadn't let go of my fork. I hoped I wouldn't have to put the practice I did on my breakfast to use. Tears sprung to my eyes as I kept walking. I could feel his lingering gaze even as I rounded the corner into the hallway.


     C'mon Rose, deep breaths. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. You're okay, you're okay, you are going to be okay. I clutched my fork to my chest, let it clatter to the floor, and groped for my wand before I remembered that I left it in the Heads' common room, sitting on the table, next to a few books I had already gathered from the library.


     "You actually listened to me for once. Did hell freeze over?" Oh, bollocks. I kept walking while he followed behind me. "Weasley, I don't know where you think you're running off to, but we still need to arrange the patrol schedules for the next two weeks." As if that was the only thing we had to do. He wanted me to bring it up. Problem was, I barely had enough air to keep from blacking out, let alone talk about our impending move-in.


     I clenched my fingers that were beginning to go numb and tried to speak. "Later." There, that was progress. His hand closed on my shoulder, stopping me. I knew he was saying something, but I couldn't make out anything through the pounding in my head. Was my chest ever supposed to hurt like this? My heart was trying to escape, to rip itself out of me. I felt a cold sweat bead on my forehead.


     The walls and paintings began to swirl into a great grey mass and the pounding in my head had faded to a dull roar. All the feeling in my fingers was gone now and my palms weren't far behind. My vision filled with encroaching blackness. I'm dying, oh Merlin, I'm dying. And  I don't even get to die with someone I like. 


     I tried to peel his hand off of my shoulder. He had to be stubborn and turn me around to face him. I could see his brow furrowed, his lips moving, forming words. I was just a little busy blacking out to say anything back.




     I woke up in what was probably seconds later. My head was lolling and my legs were limp. An arm was in the crook of my knees and another was supporting my shoulders. I decided that I didn't like the feeling of being carried. Everything was still hazy.


     "Put... down..." At least I had kind of, sort of, maybe, regained the ability to speak.


     "You're going to the Hospital Wing. We'll get you checked out." I started shaking my head before he finished, which wasn't a good idea. 


     "No... no..." I shook my head and squirmed, futilely, to make him drop me.


     "Fine, no Hospital Wing. I just better not find you dead in the bathroom later. Your family would have me put on trial for murder." I would've mumbled my agreement, but I was once again dead to the world.




  I jolted awake. Panicking, I sat up and looked around me. Then, stupidly, I realized it was the Heads' common room. So he didn't take me to the Hospital Wing... I slumped back down on the couch and tried to make the dizziness in my head go away. Wait, where's Malfoy? I thought, not seeing or hearing him anywhere


     I got up slowly, then rushed to the bathroom as bile rose in my throat. As usual, the bloody git had to choose the worst moment possible to find me. This time, it was while I was puking my guts into the toilet. Very unusually, he didn't make fun of me while I involuntarily made a fool of myself. Once the dry heaving and the initial humiliation were over, I stood, still a bit nauseous, to brush my teeth.


     From where I was standing, I could see his reflection leaning against the door frame. We made eye contact. I looked down, busying myself with scavenging through the drawers for my toothbrush. Fortunately, I found them.


     I had my toothbrush in one hand, toothpaste in the other. "What happened?" He asked. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, not ready to answer him.


     I squeezed a dollop of paste onto the end of my brush. I turned the faucet on and let water run over the brush. Then I replied. "I don't know." My voice was quiet. Quieter than I though it would be. 


     I brought the brush to my mouth, cleaning my teeth the way my grandparents had taught me. I kept brushing. And brushing. And brushing. I'm sure you would've been able to see your reflection in my teeth by then. I finally worked up the nerve to empty my mouth so I could talk. I rinsed out the sink.


     "Has it happened before?" He put his hands in his pockets and turned his head to the side.


     I examined my pale, slightly sunken face before answering. "It's never been this bad. I've never blacked out." I turned around. I twiddled my thumbs. I looked up.


     His expression changed into something that resembled concern. He crossed his arms, the lean muscles flexing through his emerald shirt. His blue eyes were piercing. I counted sixteen heartbeats before he spoke again. "Do you want to talk about it?" I can't remember anyone of the male persuasion ever asking me that question. Especially not one that had hated me an hour or four ago. I would've laughed, but it didn't seem appropriate in that moment.


     "Are you going to make me... talk about it?" I lifted my chin, trying to seem less vulnerable. No way in hell was I going to spill my perverbal guts to Malfoy. 


     "No." He put his hands back in his pockets.


     "Good." I twiddled my thumbs a bit longer. He moved to leave. "Malfoy?"


     "Yeah?" He asked, still turned away from me.


     "Thank you." 


     "No problem, Weasley" He shut the door behind him.









A/N For some reason the end of that chpater took me a while to write. I must've changed the last bit five or six times. Originally, I was going to have some of it from Scorpius' point of view, but it didn't seem right. Would you guys be interested in having some of Scorpius' POV? If you are, shoot me a review. I'd really appreciate feedback on this chapter, since I know it was a lot darker and had more drama that the last chapter. The last chapter was sort of fluff. Anyway I hope you guys liked this chapter and please leave a review! Until next time!




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