Raindrops on Roses

Chapter 35: Seventh Year Part 3: Healing Days

2024

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By half way through October, Scorpius had had two more dreams literally come true. They were only little, stupid things, but it was disturbing all the same. In one of them, Albus had spilled half a boat of gravy down his robes, and the exact same thing had happened that very night, when Lizzie walked past and shot him a dirty look. The two of them were not talking, for some reason - or at least, Lizzie was not talking to Albus, and Albus was sulking about it. In the other dream, he had predicted the arrival of three exciting letters, and two mornings later, at breakfast, the invitations to Teddy and Victoire's wedding had arrived. They would be married in May, just before NEWTs.

"Like we haven't already known for weeks," Albus muttered as Rose exclaimed over her invitation.

"But now its official," Rose sighed dreamily.

Albus merely shrugged and went back to eating his bacon and eggs.

Scorpius was pleased, and secretly relieved, by the invitations. Not because he hadn't expected to get one - Albus had managed to convince him otherwise several weeks ago - but for the lack of any other post. He had been getting dozens of letters since the first week of school, some stamped with the Ministry seal. It didn't take much imagination to figure out who they were from. He hadn't read any of them, even if some were so thick that he had had to open them before he could tear them up. His father had had plenty of chances to talk to him; Scorpius didn't see why he should listen anymore.

Still, these little true-dreams didn't seem like much to worry about, at least, not to the point where it should warrant asking Professor Trelawny about them. Or that was what he thought until the morning of the following Tuesday, when they entered the Great Hall to whispers and people pointing at them.

"What now?" Scorpius sighed, looking around. He had thought the novelty of him and his chair had mostly worn off. Oddly though, the attention seemed to be more on the others than on him.

"You'll never guess," said a grumbling voice from beside them, as someone came over from the Gyffindor table. It was Hugo.

"What is it?" Rose demanded, keeping her voice low. "Did something happen with the Shadow?"

Her brother shook his head, and handed her a copy of the Prophet in answer. Rose looked at it. Then she gasped. Albus, reading over her shoulder, swallowed hard. "Bloody hell," he said, breathlessly.

"What?" Scorpius demanded, unable to see from his position beneath and in front of the paper. Verso, he thought crossly, with one hand on the right wheel, and the chair spun around to the left so he was facing them.

Reluctantly, Rose showed him the front page. The Headline read: SHACKLEBOLT RESIGNS. And underneath, in smaller type, read: HERMIONE WEASLEY TO BECOME MINISTER FOR MAGIC. And underneath that, in even smaller type: "Harry Potter approves appointment of war heroine".

Scorpius felt queasy. Only two night's ago, he had dreamed that Kingsley Shacklebolt had fallen over in his office. It was weird, since he had never even seen seen the Minister except at a distance at the yearly memorial services. But since he, Scorpius, wasn't in the dream, and it had been followed by a scene of some House Elves doing a circus act, he had dismissed it as just a normal dream. But now he wasn't so sure.

"I knew he was ill," Albus muttered as they went over to sit at their usual place at the Ravenclaw table, and did their best to ignore the staring. "I didn't think he was that ill."

"Oughtn't your uncle have been made Minister?" Scorpius asked. It was the only thing he could think of to say. He looked down the table to where Lucy Weasley was chattering excitedly with her friends and passing the paper around.