Taking a Shallow Breath- Ch 10

        "And let us all rejoice again, on Christmas Day! On Christmas day! And let us all rejoice again, on Christmas Day in the morning!"

        "Thanks, Sir Cadogan. I didn't know 'I Saw Three Ships' had nine verses," replied Rose, hoping he would take a hint and stop singing.

        "Hush, thou knave in maiden's clothing! You are to stay silent for your punishment! Now, another song I rather enjoy goes something like this! On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, a puffskein in a pear tree!" he sang in a robust baritone.

        Rose let out a low moan before she continued polishing the gold shield award. Her father and uncle had won it back in 1993 for special service to the school. She could not imagine such heroes could ever be found serving detention by polishing trophies. They had been too busy earning them and saving the Wizarding World.

        Their gold shield was nothing compared to their giant plaque in the corner. It depicted their younger selves, along with her mother, wands raised nobly in the air. At the bottom of the polished placard the  was a vague, but nonetheless harrowing tale of how they helped defeat Voldemort when they had not even completed their seventh year at Hogwarts.

        "Fiiiiiive Golden Snitcheeees!" Cadogan belted, his voice unpleasantly bouncing off the walls.

        She had never heard the whole story of how they did it. Everyone who knew anything stayed rather tight-lipped about the adventures. Her cousins and Teddy had pieced together what they could, and every time something new was learned, they would share the small snippet of information to further flesh out the tale. Rose had learned inquiring about it directly did not work.

        "On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me--"

        "Miss Weasley, your detention is over," Rose heard from the doorway. Cauldwell was standing there, his hair parted just as meticulously as usual. She wondered if he had to charm his hair to do that. Would it be rude to ask for hair tips from your Potions professor?

        "Thank you for keeping an eye on her, Sir Cadogan."

        "T'was an honor to perform my duty!" said Sir Cadogan, bowing so deep he almost lost his balance.

        "One more detention to go, Miss Weasley."

        "Yes. Am I going to be in the trophy room again, tomorrow?" Rose asked, hoping with all her might the answer would be no.

        "I will let your cousin listen to all twelve verses of The Days of Christmas, tomorrow," Cauldwell said, a twitch of a smile curling his lip, before disappearing around the corner. Rose had heard of detentions where students were flogged and chained over a hundred years ago. They did not sound so tedious to her. A good flagellation would be almost enjoyable after five hours of being sung at by that tiny knight. It did not help that her parent's legacy was looming in the corner the whole time.

        Luckily, as grueling as her detentions had been, Cauldwell never scheduled them very late. It was Saturday night and there were still a few hours until curfew. She had plenty of time to visit Hagrid, who she had not spoken with in over a week. She had come armed with her coat and scarf for the occasion, as well as her Christmas gift for him.

        A small amount of snow had begun to fall, and she could hear some of the students caroling as she passed by the Great Hall. Al was having a late supper with his little group, and by the looks of his robes, he had been scrubbing out cauldrons. His friends seemed to be giving him quite a bit of space at the table, each sitting a good yard away from him. Not giving it much thought, she continued to Hagrid's.

        Winter was her favorite season. Maybe it was the smell of Christmas in the air, or the snow, or the prospect of not adding to her freckles for a few gloriously overcast months, but being able to cozily watch the snow fall from the comfort of a crackling fire was something she never tired of.

        Hagrid's hut had plumes of smoke coming out the chimney. She was about to knock when she heard Hagrid's rumbling laugh and someone else's voice. Not wanting to interrupt if it was important company, she peered in the window to see who it was. To her shock, Scorpius was sitting in one of the oversized chairs, his feet dangling and unable to touch the floor.

        "My grandfather didn't care much for that line of questions. I don't think I'll ever be able to study anything about Muggles at this rate."

        "You can always take Muggle Studies in yer third year."

        "Not likely. They'd definitely know and then I'd get lots of owls and lectures from my grandparents. My parents don't care, really. They just think it's a waste of time. Perhaps I can manage to buy myself a book or something."

        "Never thought I'd see a Malfoy interested in Muggles," said Hagrid with a rueful grin. Scorpius gave one of his usual glares, which prompted Hagrid to add, "No offense."

        "Well, I've seen Muggles before. I even got to see some up close at King's Cross. I can see them from our townhouse in London sometimes. Their buildings are my favorites. They can make buildings so tall, but without any magic at all. It's amazing."

        "I reckon' so. I don't much think on it."

        Rose was not sure she wanted to intrude. She had tried to talk to Scorpius a few times since the incident in Potions, but he had been remarkably slippery. Every time she had managed to get within a few feet of him, he'd disappear quick as a snitch. Still, the cold was becoming quite the bother. Perhaps this could be her chance to make amends with Scorpius. Making up her mind she rapped at the door.

        Mop, Hagrid's large Komodor dog which very much resembled its namesake, let out of bark, and jumped on her the moment Hagrid opened the door. He had a piece of drool dangling perilously close to her cheek.

        "Rosie! Come in, come in! Mop, get off of her, you dozy beast!" he said shooing the oversized dog from her. She shook the snow out of her hair and sat in the chair next to Scorpius.
        
        Hagrid went to the corner to prepare them some tea.

        "Hello Scorpius," Rose said in a forcefully genial tone. He nodded in her direction, but his eyes were carefully trained away from hers. "How are you?"

        "Fine," he answered, his face stoic.

        "Are you looking forward to Christmas break?"

        He shrugged in response.

        "I know I am," she continued. "We always decorate the tree together. They haven't put so much as a bauble on it, they said. Are you going anywhere? Visiting any relatives?"

        "I'm staying home this year."

        She found no other answer would be received. After a short pause she added, "Then will you have relatives come to you?"

        "I imagine so."

        "Your grandparents? Any cousins?"

        "I haven't inquired," he said concisely.

        Clearly conversation would not flow well between them. He sat there looking forbidding and dour.

        Thankfully, Hagrid came over with large tea cups for the pair of them. Rose hoped his presence would coax Scorpius into talking more.

        "'So, Scorpius here has been wantin' to learn about Muggles. Got any books like tha', Rosie?"

        Scorpius looked positively alarmed at Hagrid spilling this information, his grey eyes wide and brow furrowed.

        "Well, I might. I mean, I have books by Muggles. I could ask my mum if she has some," said Rose, trying to give Scorpius an encouraging smile. Her smile was evidently lost on him, because he did not smile back. His mouth became a thin line.

        "Don't do me any favors," he said quickly, standing up (or more accurately, sliding down from) the chair.

        "Hagrid, I have to go. Thanks for the company. Please don't mention the Muggle thing with anyone else," he said quickly, shaking Hagrid's hand in his ridiculously formal way. He grabbed his black coat and didn't bother putting it on fully before running out the door, leaving a stunned Rose and Hagrid in his wake.

        "Blimey, that was odd," said Hagrid with a shake of his large head.

        Rose was now convinced that it would be impossible to make up for her past behavior with Scorpius.

        "Well, wanna pasty? Got a basket full of 'em for Christmas," said Hagrid, pointing towards the table. Rose nearly yelped in surprise: She had a basket just like this sitting in her dormitory, the strange note from an anonymous friend still sitting in it.

        "Yes please," said Rose, doing her best to stay calm. Hagrid braced his hands on either side of his chair to get up. Not wanting to miss a chance of inspecting the basket closer, Rose cried out, "Oh, I'll get it, Hagrid!"

        She quickly inspected for notes, and nearly gave up when she found a small piece of parchment tucked away in the corner of the basket. In the same precise handwriting as the other note it read:

        Happy Christmas, Hagrid
                from Scorpius

        She did not know what to think. There was a flutter of emotions. It was difficult to determine if she found this news pleasurable or painful. There was a thorough satisfaction in knowing who had sent her the anonymous gift and note. Scorpius had been so thoughtful of her on a few occasions now, and she hadn't done anything to make up for her horrible behavior. Her few attempts had been rebuffed with him either fleeing the scene, or becoming stonier than a gargoyle.
        
        He obviously wanted to be friends with her, or he would not have done so many things for her; but the fact that he was making it nearly impossible for her to befriend him again was making her tailspin in anger. How was she supposed to deal with this situation? It was surely hopeless. Maybe he did not want to be friends with her after all. Maybe he was just altruistic for the holidays. Maybe Rose had burned too many bridges for her to ever have friends again.

        It was impossible for her to forget his reproof in the halls of the dungeons. "I have my family being held against me. It's your personality that keeps you from having any friends."

        "Rosie? You alrigh' over there?" she heard Hagrid ask.

        She had been standing at the basket for an undetermined amount of time.

        "I'm fine," she called back. She grabbed the basket and a few plates.

        "So, Hagrid," she said as she sat down. "How long has Scorpius been visiting you?"

        "Since October, was it? Saw the little chap being bullied. Put a stop to tha' right quick. Didn't even know it was a Malfoy, at first. I invited him round fer tea after, and he's been visiting ever since. Don't think he much has any friends."

        "No, he doesn't," said Rose looking at her shoes.

        He would be friends with her and Al if she had not been such a thistle blossom. She didn't even know he was being bullied. He might have acted like an aloof prat a lot of the time, but he deserved friends. The thought of Scorpius being completely alone, without so much as a sibling or cousin to turn to, made her feel thoroughly guilty.

        Rose and Hagrid sat and chatted amicably for well over an hour before she left, but it did not give her the same warm feeling it had before.

        She went back the castle with no spring in her step. The air felt cold and dreary, the snow flurries were obnoxiously gathering in her eyelashes, and she felt like taking a sprig of holly and stabbing someone with it.

        There had to be a way to reach out an olive branch to Scorpius. She was determined. And when Rose Weasley was determined... Well, nothing would happen, really, but she was stubborn enough to make something happen.

        Stubbornness and determination were two adjectives that had a lot of crossover, but she never felt she deserved to be called determined. It made her a heroine, and she was never the heroine. Heroines were always determined and cool. She was stubborn and hot headed. But surely, just this once, she could play the heroine and be determined. Be persistent. She needed to rescue someone, desperately.

        She arrived at the common room, persistent  (and not stubborn) in her pursuit of a solution.

        Her solution was sprawled across a couch normally occupied by many students. There seemed to be an invisible perimeter around him that no one wanted to intrude on.

        Al glanced up at her then put his head back down on the cushion.

        "I smell like pickled rat sphincters. You might want to avoid me," he said in a miserable voice.

        "Have you tried taking a shower?"

        "Yes. Two of them. Lots of shampoo. Still smell. Was kicked out of the dorm."

        Rose took an experimental whiff and immediately regretted her decision.

        "Oh! I didn't know smells like that were possible."

        "They are. I have become an unimaginable smell," he said resignedly. "I'm going to be known as sphincter boy. It's inevitable. Kill me."

        Rose rolled her eyes.

        "Don't say that nickname around James or it'll stick. There has to be a cure for the smell. Otherwise, Cauldwell wouldn't have you cleaning something that rancid."
                
        "Perhaps that's my real punishment. Having to smell like this for all of eternity."

        "When Mum taught us about the Governing Board of Hogwarts's rules, she said professors aren't allowed to give punishments that have lasting effects such as scars or anything like that anymore.  I'm sure smells count."

        Rose quickly retrieved some of her textbooks to look up a cure for his smelly condition. As she flipped through the pages of 'Introductory Charms' she brought up the subject of Scorpius.

        "He's been bullied and doesn't have any friends. Perhaps you could befriend him?"

        "Yeah, whatever," Al said, distracted. "Oh my God, Rosie, don't make me smell like a daffodil. That's worse. Get rid of the smell, don't mask it with girly flowery scents!"

        "Fine, no flowers!" Rose barked, becoming impatient. "He won't have anything to do with me, Al. I treated him horribly. He needs a friend. Promise me you'll try to befriend him."

        "Subtract, subtract! Don't add smells! Why do I smell like roast beef?"

        "Everyone deserves friends, Al!"

        "I can think of many people who don't," Al harrumphed.

        Rose prodded him hard in the side with her wand. "Promise you'll help!"

        "Oh, of course I will! I've never had a problem with him, if you recall. Stubborn witch."

        "I am a determined and persistent heroine, today," said Rose, her freckled nose held aloft. If she imagined hard enough, it was unblemished by her freckles.

        "I'll call you whatever you like. Please, just make me smell normal again," he moaned. It took a few spells (one of which made daffodils come out of his ears) but he asmelled like a relatively normal human being in the end.

        The next day Rose determinedly dogged Al to find Scorpius and do something. As they sat eating breakfast they both watched the doors of the Great Hall for the pale blonde. Rose watched, while Al tried to enjoy his breakfast for some reason. How he could contentedly stare into oblivion and munch toast at time like this, she had no idea.

        "Why aren't you doing something Al? You promised."

        "Rose, we have detention in a moment at separate locations. I doubt we'll have time to see him before we all go home in four hours."

        "Home? Rats! I forgot."

        "You've been counting the days until you can decorate the tree," said Al.
        
        "It's hard to be excited about going home when I haven't fixed this whole Scorpius problem."
        
        "He'll still be in school in two weeks."

        "If he hasn't transferred! He might be so miserable he'll transfer to Beauxbatons over the break. And it will be my fault," said Rose, a fretful look taking over her face. She knew what it was like to be miserable and have no friends.

        "Rose. You know how Fred said that our family is prone to being over-dramatic?"

        "I am NOT being over-dramatic, Albus!" she hissed.

        "Fine. Why don't you go away and 'NOT be over-dramatic' somewhere else. I want to enjoy my breakfast, and I am tired of you glaring at me for not being as worked up about this as you are."

        "Fine then, I will!"

        She petulantly joined her cousin Dominique at the Ravenclaw table. She hoped being at the table closest to the Slytherins she might spot Scorpius, but no such luck. She did not see him enter the hall at all. She served detention at her designated location, which was in the Potions lab by herself. When it was time to leave the castle, she made Al stand watch for Scorpius on the platform until they were forced onto the train by Professor Sinistra just in time for the train to lurch towards London.

        "He must have left from Hogsmeade, then," said Al, not looking particularly worried. Rose nodded and silently followed Al to their compartment.

        Many a cousin visited their cabin. James made a point of bringing in some Hufflepuff girls she didn't know. They were all second years, and looked rather disappointed when they realized James had brought them in to be friends with his loser cousin, and not to hang with him and his much cooler group of friends. The girls tried to smile and catch the eyes of James and Fred, but Fred kept his face in a schooled bored look, and James kept trying to get them to talk to Rose.

        After the third lull in conversation, James kicked them out, blithely telling them, "You're far too boring to be friends with. Out you go!"

        Rose saw one of the girls start to get tears in her eyes. Albus saw this as well, and went to make sure she was alright. He was quite used to picking up the pieces from his brother's lack of tact.

        "James, you made that one girl cry," Fred noted, though he didn't seem to particularly care.

        "I was just telling her the truth. It's one of those life lessons she needed. She's only in second year. Years later she'll grow tits and a personality, and be perfectly tolerable. She can even date Albus then. He doesn't have a problem with weepy boring people. Probably because he is one," said James with a shrug. Rose did her best to avoid punching her cousin.

        "James, it's not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do, but I think it's time you give up on this. I'll make friends when I make them," said Rose, hoping this would bring an end to his embarrassing tactics.

        "Don't be such a quitter, Rose. If I had your attitude, I wouldn't be the Quidditch star I am today. I'll get you friends before the year is out!" he said with a commanding air before marching into the corridor.

        "Great," Rose said, sinking further into her cushion.

        Fred gave her a pat on the shoulder.

        "I would say 'I'll talk him out of this,' but we both know I'd be lying."

        "I know," said Rose with a pout.

        Al failed to come back, so Rose got out a book to read. It was a gripping story of a medieval witch who went on to save a village from an evil clan of goblins. The motion of the train and lack of company soon lulled Rose to sleep.

She had a sword she would wield to defend the weak. A pale blond boy had his school supplies stolen, and she quickly scared the third years away with her gleaming sword. They both got on a dragon with Hagrid and flew to Egypt, where they had tea with a mummy.

        She woke up to someone poking her in the side.

        "Tell me 'bout the Quidditch, Rosie!"

        "Huh?"

        She opened her eyes to see Hugo and Al standing in front of her.

        "Found him looking for you," said Al, pointing to Hugo who was now standing on the bench seat with his face planted firmly against the window pane. He was making faces at the crowd, but no one seemed to notice him.

        Aunt Ginny had been the one to pick them up. Rose's parents and Uncle Harry all had been too busy with something at the Ministry.

        "What could possibly be so important that all three of them are needed there on a Sunday?" James said in the car, clearly put out.

         The ministry never required people on Sundays unless it was something very important, Rose thought in a sudden panic. She could only remember her father working a few weekends her whole life, and it was always under dire circumstances.

        James either did not realize how serious this was, or was too selfish to care. Lily was contentedly sitting next to Al hugging his arm, while Hugo asked inane questions about everything Rose had learned at school. She perfunctorily answered, all the while wondering when it was she last read a newspaper. Was something happening at the ministry? Was her father having to go and do a raid? The thought made her stomach begin to ache.

        "There was a bit of a scuffle at the ministry. Nothing to worry about, though. They'll just have lots of paperwork, I'd wager," Aunt Ginny replied, catching Rose's eye in the rearview mirror.

        This did nothing to soothe Rose's nerves. James made a face and crinkled his eyebrows, clearly not believing his mother either. Of all her adult relatives, Aunt Ginny probably had the best poker face of them all, so it was no use probing for information. Rose stared out the window, watching the trees and telephone posts whizz past too quickly to count. If only the time would fly as fast!

        "How long until we get there?" Rose asked.

        "Not long. Patience is a virtue," Ginny answered.

        This was a phrase her family told her with exasperating persistence. It was a virtue Rose was not familiar with.  Hugo was, though. He always seemed able to happily wait his turn, wait for presents, and wait for news.

        Perhaps this was why he succeeded with chess so thoroughly. She thought herself smart, but chess was something she had no mind for. She liked being able to consistently reap the benefits of tried and true methods. Each game was different, with far too many decisions, and too much thinking ahead. Dizzying possibilities was a natural state of mind for her, and she did not think it an amusing past time to willingly add more to her mind.

        When they finally reached the house, signs of tension had left everyone except Rose. They fell into playing Quidditch in the back yard, while Rose watched from the broom shed. She felt it was almost indecent to be enjoying her time playing Quidditch while her father was in certain peril.         

        James took relish in showing off the drills he ran on the Quidditch team and Hugo ate them up, naturally picking up everything James made them do. Al seemed to be good as well, though he did not find the joy in taking orders that Hugo did. After being corrected by his brother a third time, Al rolled his eyes and flew to the broom shed.

        "Oi! We're not done!" James yelled across the field.

        "I am!" replied Al, giving him a rude gesture.
        
        "You're not allowed to do that, Al!" Lily called back, futilely checking for scandalized bystanders.

        "No telling, Lilibeast!" Al called back.

        "Don't call me that!" Lily wailed.

        "Lilibeast! Hah!" Hugo laughed.

        "Thanks a lot, Al! You've got the whole team in an uproar. See if I let you on the Quidditch team when I'm captain!"

        "See if I care, James!"

        Rose gestured Al over to her.

        "I swear, getting on the team has made his head bigger. If it grows any more I might need to lance it like a boil," Al grumbled as he put his broom away.

        "I don't care about that. I care about our dads. They never have to work on a Sunday. This is really bad, Al."

        "You think so?" Al asked, his brow furrowing.

        "They could be in a raid or there could be an attack somewhere or--"

        "Bloody bastards!" came a familiar cry from the house.

        "It's Dad!" exclaimed Rose, cantering to the house, Al close behind her. They peered in the window.

        Her father stood in the kitchen, red faced, covered in scorch marks and blood. Harry looked in a similar state, while her mother had an armload of papers she was trying to organize on the table.

        Al made to go in when Rose stopped him.

        "Wait! We need to find out what happened. They'll never tell us."
        
        "I can get some extendable ears from James," he said pointing to his brother who was showing off loopdeloops for Lily and Hugo.

        "No time!" she said gesturing for Al to follow her.

        They snuck through the mudroom, and edged behind a curtain in the kitchen. She knew they would not tell them what was happening. They had snuck in just in time to hear another voice perturb the room. She hadn't seen him from the window, but a fourth figure sat at the table. It was the secretary to the Minister, Maximilien- or Mili, as he was called. The nickname made him sound much nicer than he was.

        Mili was a strange, somber man. He was handsome, with high cheekbones and fine features, and dark, closely cropped hair, but he seemed as cold in demeanor as his pale eyes would suggest. He had worked at the ministry for years, and was a trusted advisor in troubled times. He was a few years younger than her parents, but somehow seemed much older than anyone Rose had met. Perhaps it was because she had never seen anyone with any youth so unsmiling and without folly.

        Rose knelt down to the floor, and dared to peek out from behind the curtain to better see their faces. Her father's wounds looked much more severe up close.

        Dad wiped at his brow with the back of his sleeve, seemingly more irked that blood was obscuring his vision than concerned with tending the deep gash.

        "This one was different, Harry. I've seen rallies get out of hand before, but never this quick."

        "Well, Jaqlin Bensby is a very good speaker and they're angry. They have a right to be," said Mum.

        "Yes, but do they really think starting a bloody riot and attacking Aurors is going to win any one over?"

        Harry crossed his arms and looked down. Al did this sometimes. Rose knew it meant there was something he was refraining from saying. They were very similar like that: They always had more on their mind than they said. Both seemed very transparent, but really they were very private people, who had much more going on in their mind than they let on. At times James and Lily seemed to have this trait, but they somehow seemed less fathomless when they left things unsaid than Al or Harry.

        Rose was like her father and mother. Very little was left unsaid. If they had a thought, they let it be known for everyone.

        "Ron, these are Muggleborns who went through so much," said Mum. "Of course they take issue with laws and customs that are obviously biased against them. I think it's a righteous indignation over what the ministry has done in the past, and how we still treat Muggles as inferior. We can pretend, but Muggleborns still face prejudice all the time. Many of these people lost everything, were imprisoned, lost their family--"

        "Don't act like we don't understand, Hermione," Dad said, looking like he was holding back a good bit of anger. "The point is, they are taking it too far.  Good men are in St Mungo's right now because of that 'righteous indignation,' some of them Muggleborn. They're acting like a wounded dragon, blindly burning everything around them."

        Mum looked like she was going to argue when Harry raised a hand to silence them. Usually he was rather unassuming around his home, but right now he looked every bit a leader who could defeat a Dark Lord.
                
        "What do you say we do, then?" asked Harry, his expression dark.

        "Sir, if I may be so bold-" said Mili, who had remained silent until now.  Dad rolled his eyes. He always seemed to have little patience for Mili. He said he was like a 'humorless Percy.'

        Harry nodded for Mili to continue.

        "I can guess where you stand with this. You sympathize with their cause."

        "We all bloody do, Mili," Dad said with a snort.

        "They should be sympathized with. Your feelings do you credit, sir," Mili said, giving a respectful nod. Dad looked unimpressed with this. He never had much patience for unctuous praise.

        "Despite your noble feelings, the stance of the Law is firm. They performed unlawful acts. They should be condemned."

        "Their actions- but not their stances should be condemned, Mili," Mum said firmly. "They were asking for the government to show they understand, in the end. It devolved into violence because they are frustrated with no one representing them! Harry, perhaps if we could convince Kingsley to be more vocal, or if you could say--"

        "All of this is politics. I'm just here to enforce the law. Why would anyone care what I feel about it?" Harry said quietly.

        "Whether you like it or not, The Wizarding World looks to you in times like this," Mum argued. "If you could say something to the press, perhaps they'd see they have someone standing up for them, they would not look to people like Jaqlin Bensby. "

        "If the Ministry shows any sympathy to their cause, it will ignite more violent protests, sir," Mili advised. "They would think their violence was able to prod their government into action. People do not understand the subtleties of this situation. Either you are condoning or condemning the violent faction. There is no in between with people."

        "People are smart enough to-" Mum protested.

        "A person is. A few persons are reasonable. But people... They are foolish and ignore the complexities of these situations. A person reads a complex article and comprehends it. People read headlines. They want a headline, and a headline is too short for complexities."

        "He's right, Harry," said Dad, looking grim.

        "But if he sympathizes with their cause, and can make a difference he should--"

        "This specific group is beyond sympathy, now. If you show any to them in the press, it will confuse people. They might not know which side is in the right. It's best you make it clear these actions will not be tolerated, no matter what cause is behind them. The less said from you, the better."

        "Perhaps if Harry would rally for a more positive way of expressing outrage-"

        "Harry has done more than enough rallying for everyone. He defeated Voldemort. If they don't know he's on their side, they're morons," said Dad.

        "Ma'am, we need to continue to aid peace. Publicly, stay stoic. Privately, do what you can to make things right. You are a powerful and persuasive woman. Show the guilds why they need to change their views. But until this violence ends, nothing can be changed. We'd be seen as giving into a violent mob's demands. And when they think violence leads to solutions, it sets a precedence that will leave us in a chaotic world."

        "That, or they'll become even more desperate and violent, thinking it's the only way they can finally get our attention," Mum countered.

        "Enough," said Harry, voice full of authority. "For now, I'm leaving this to Kingsley. We can discuss this with him tomorrow and think of solutions. I think we should be lenient with those arrested, but right now we have an urgent matter at our feet. We have a spies amongst us."

        Rose startled when she saw Harry turn his green gaze down to her and Al. Mum and Dad looked rather non-plussed about it. Probably because she and Al had a record for spying on them.

        "Sir, I'm sorry, I thought the room was secure," Mili said, his head bowed deeply. Dad, Mum and Harry shared amused glances.

        "It is. I doubt Rose and Al will go to the press with this," Harry said, giving a chuckle.

        "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to spy," Rose stumbled. Dad raised an eyebrow at her. "I just wanted to know why you weren't home. It had to be bad for you to be gone on a Sunday."

        "Well, we're sorry to have worried you," said Harry kindly. They all looked like they had more to discuss, particularly Mili.

        Harry gave a sigh. "I'm famished. We'll talk about all this tomorrow."

        Mili moved to protest.

        "It's been a long day for everyone, and I want to spend time with my family. Go home and do the same," he said with finality.

        "Would that I could," said Mili, giving a nod to Harry before leaving through their kitchen door. Rose didn't think he had a family to spend Christmas with, or at least any who would want to spend time with him, being a thoroughly disagreeable fellow.

        "You two, had no business listening to all that," her father said, taking her and Al by the arms to the living room.

        "If they didn't want us to hear it, they should have checked the room better before it was perturbed," Rose muttered to Al.

        Dad gave them a frown and crossed his arms. Al took a few paces back, but Rose stood her ground.

        "Well, you embarrassed Mili, so I suppose I can't be too mad at the pair of you," Dad said with a grin before wincing a bit and glancing at his forehead with concern for the first time.

        "It's bleeding a lot," Al said as Dad tentatively poked at it.

        "So it is. If you could get your aunt to come in here and heal me up, that'd be grand," he said, sitting down next to the fire. "And both of you, don't tell the younger ones about this. It'd just worry them."

        Rose went to the door but was stopped by Dad.
        
        "It's good to have my favorite daughter back."

        "I'm your only daughter!"

        "We'll decorate the tree when we get home," he said with a pained grin.

        Rose nodded before retrieving her Mum to help with her father's wounds.

        Aunt Ginny was already helping Harry with his, though she made a point of telling him he was an idiot for not having proper healers do it.

        "And have the press hounding away about why I was at St. Mungo's over a few scratches? No thanks," said Harry.

        "Next time you come into the house with an untended wound, you're healing it yourself," Ginny said before prodding her wand in his leg to heal it, probably with more force than necessary.
 
        Everyone was fully healed and cleaned before they called the rest of the children in, and they all ate dinner. When asked by Lily, they all said paperwork was why they had been delayed at the ministry.

        They spent the evening putting ornaments on the tree. Her dad even let her demonstrate a wingardium leviosa on some of them when her Mum was out of the room. There was a set of ornaments with different constellations on them that Rose was very fond of. She was about to hang one with the constellation 'Scorpio' when she was reminded of Scorpius. She had forgotten about him in all the hubbub.

        "Mum, do we have any books on Muggles we don't need anymore?" Rose asked.

        "We always have an overabundance of books around here. Did you have a particular subject in mind?"

        "Something about buildings, maybe?"

        "Yes, I think so..."

        Her Mum quickly looked through their shelves in the hallway, before returning with two medium sized paperback books.

        "Can you spell them so the titles look like they're about something else?" Rose asked.

        "Yes, but why?"

        Rose hesitated. Should she tell her parents about Scorpius? Dad had made it very clear how he felt about the Malfoy family. He had dozed off in one of the oversized chairs near the fire, overcome by pure exhaustion.

        "Well," Rose whispered. Even if he was asleep, she decided it would be safer to discuss the delicate matter with her mother in a hushed tone. "I think I may have been wrong about Scorpius. He's actually quite nice. He helped me a few times, really, and I want to pay him back. I heard him tell Hagrid he likes Muggle buildings and wants to learn more about them, but I don't want him getting in trouble with his family over the books."

        Her Mum seemed to understand completely, because she quickly put a glamor charm on the the covers and helped Rose package them nicely and express owl it, as well.  Rose wrote a quick note on her best stationary.

        Dear Scorpius,
        Thank you for the basket of sandwiches you gave me the other day. They were delicious, and the ribbon was my very favorite color.

        I found some books you might find interesting, though the covers would make you think otherwise. I could not find you on the Hogwart's Express. You are coming back to Hogwarts, right? I hope so. Perhaps we can share a cabin on the train again?

        -Rose

        An hour or so later the owl returned with a note. Dad woke up and inquired what it was, but Mum just said 'a note from a ministry coworker,' which was plausible enough. She discretely handed it to Rose a moment later.

        Rose ran to their hallway to read it.

Rose,
        Thank you for the books. I imagine I'll enjoy them very much. Perhaps we can discuss them on the way back to Hogwarts. I will be on the Express this time. Save me a seat?
        -S
        
        Rose had not fully felt the holiday spirit until this moment.

        After the tree was finished, Rose and Hugo laid underneath it to stare up at all the fairy lights.

        "I missed you so much when you were at school, Rosie," said Hugo.

        "I missed you all too."

        "Did you make any friends there?"

        Rose thought for a moment about Scorpius. He wanted her to save him a seat on the Hogwarts Express.

        "I think I have made a friend," said Rose with a grin.