Chapter Sixteen (Rose)

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"Do you need me to walk you to Gryffindor Tower, Rosie?" Scorpius teased when the clock struck twelve.

Rose snorted. "Please. The only thing that would scare me out here is your face."

The blond boy smirked. "I know many people who would say differently."

She rolled her eyes. Of course he did. More than three quarters of the female population thought Scorpius Malfoy was the best looking boy they had ever seen, nevermind solely at Hogwarts. Rose couldn't deny that he was a sight for sore eyes, but she'd sooner stab herself repeatedly in her own than ever admit that.

They reached the corridor in which they would part ways, Rose heading up the staircase to the tower and Malfoy down to the dungeons. Rose sometimes wondered how they could stand it; she knew she couldn't had she been sorted into Slytherin.

He turned to her, hands in the pockets of his black jeans. "I must say, Rosie, I'm no longer dreading patrol."

Rose lifted her shoulder in a noncommittal gesture. "It could have gone worse, I suppose."

Malfoy smirked. "I'll see you in class, Rosie."

She turned her back on him. "Goodbye, Scorpius."

A light chuckle followed her up the steep staircase to Gryffindor Tower. Rose's mind was going over her night at the speed of a Firebolt. Were she and Malfoy finally acting like friends? She had called him Scorpius after all—and not just once, but twice.

Rose reached the portrait hole with a minuscule smile on her face.

The Fat Lady yawned obnoxiously. "What time do you call this, young lady? And with a smile like that!"

"I was on Prefect patrol," Rose stated boredly.

"Oh, I know fine well where you've been and who with! The whole castle knows!" The woman snickered. "What would your father say, hmm?"

"If this gets me the Head Girl position he'll be saying nothing but praise," Rose muttered to herself. "Bumbling Banshees."

The Fat Lady swung open with a huff at her conversation being ended so quickly. Rose was in no mood to gossip over nothing with a painting, however—especially one with the reputation of being a blabbermouth like she. Rose practically crawled through the hole, her eyes closing in the darkness that greeted her before she reached the dimly lit common room.

Much to her surprise, Roxanne was sprawled across one of the armchairs by the dying fire. A pencil was balanced precariously over her open mouth, from which rather unattractive snorts were emitting. Rose peered down at the book that was open on Roxanne's lap.

"Chapter Forty-Seven: How to turn your brother into a toad," Rose read from the title with a snort of laughter. She picked the book up to take a look at the title. A Prankster's Guide to Magic.

Rose had to laugh at the image her mind conjured of Roxanne studying the joke book religiously for pranks to play on their family. At least she was dedicated to her cause—regardless of how ridiculous the book may seem to Rose.

Roxanne woke with a start at the sound of Rose's laughter. She jumped from the armchair with an "Aha!", pointing her wand at Rose's nose. She deflated when she saw it was only her.

The ginger witch cocked an eyebrow. "Expecting an attack tonight, Rox?"

"James and Fred were acting very suspicious all evening, lurking around and whispering," she muttered. "I thought I should prepare myself. You never know what they'll conjure up next."

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