Disclaimer: as always.

A/N: So this was not quite out by Christmas. We'll just pretend Boxing Day is the same thing. And ignore the fact that where I am technically it's the day after Boxing Day. Those facts are all irrelevant, and you should forget them and mindlessly enjoy this chapter :)

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favourited this story as I've written it. This is the first extended story I've ever finished, and you're the only reason I've managed to do it. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! :D

One final note to anyone reading this in the future: I didn't ask for reviews during this story because I was more concerned with finishing it than actually improving my writing, but over the past few months I've found myself wanting to take my writing more seriously. So if you have any comments, criticism or suggestions (broad or specific) please, feel free to leave them (although I'd be lying if I said nice comments weren't appreciated too)!

Scorpius didn't spin to face her. He didn't gasp, he didn't sigh. He didn't turn around and fix her with a piercing stare, or Apparate away with a swish of his cloak.

Instead, he looked down, and said nothing. His knuckles were white where he clenched the railing. The ground three storeys below looked impossibly far away, his entire focus on his hands in front of him.

It was over.

Rose was silent behind him, but he could hear her voice over and over in his head.

"Scorpius, no -"

She knew.

He wanted to ask how, but it was obvious, wasn't it?

"...wait, Rose," he said, pressing something into her hands. "See you around, okay...?"

No, earlier than that.

...laughing, he pulled her closer, and whispered something in her ear that made her throw back her head with laughter...

"Finch."

Rose didn't move, so he finally turned around. The moon was almost full, and he could see that her face was as white as his knuckles. "Edgar – Scorpius – I'm sorry -"

"Sorry?" He laughed, then stopped abruptly. "And since we both know I'm not Edgar Spore you might as well call me Scorpius."

She let out a giggle, obviously unintentional. "Not when you look like that."

He looked down at himself. "Like a lumberjack?" he asked drily.

"Scorpius," she started to say, but she broke off ruefully. "I'm sorry, I can't call you that."

"It didn't stop you before," he said quietly, and suddenly the uneasy cameraderie between them disappeared. "Why did you say it?"

"God, Scorp, I didn't mean to!"

"Were you ever going to admit you knew?"

He knew as soon as he threw the words out that it was a mistake. He had no right to make that accusation, no right at all -

"You - how the hell am I suddenly in the wrong? You're the one who's been pretending to be a - a bloody lumberjack, for Pete's sake, and why? Because you're -"

She cut off suddenly, her eyes daring him to make her continue.

"Rose, I'm sorry..." He took a step towards her, but she stepped back sharply, and he didn't follow. "That was completely uncalled for."

She looked away. Somewhere in the distance a bell chimed the hour.

"Should I explain? Or has Finch told you everything already?"

He must have sounded bitter. He was trying desperately not to, but it was hard. He'd just had possibly the worst day of his life. Some of that had to have slipped through into his voice.

"I told you, Finch and I are just -"

"Friends, I know." Scorpius slumped back onto the railing, his righteous anger disappearing. Rose was right. He was acting like he was the victim here, like she was totally at fault - and what had she done? Gone along with his stupid little plan, humouring him with Finch -

Merlin, what a day for emotions! His stomach clenched again, and he looked away, unable to face Rose after everything had happened. She must have noticed every little slip. Had she laughed, every time he -

"Scorpius, listen to me," she said quietly, and he realised that she'd moved to stand next to him. "I know what you're thinking, and it's rubbish, quite frankly."

He snorted.

"You're forgetting I'm your best friend, aren't you? I'd never laugh at you, Scorpius. I can see the look on your face. Finch had absolutely nothing to do with it."

"He gave you my notes."

She smiled, and he waited for her to tell him about the time at the Leaky Cauldron. "And very thorough notes they were, too."

"That's how you found out, I suppose."

"About Spore, yes. I knew from the beginning" She looked straight at him. "I didn't know about Knightley until Finch told me."

"And yet you say Finch had nothing to do with this."

She threw up her hands in a huff of frustration. "Merlin, Scorpius, are you dense? Finch has been trying to stop this charade since probably before it even started. We didn't sit there plotting ways to humiliate you. We're your friends!"

"You encouraged Edgar. You didn't have to do that."

She looked down at her hands. "I had my own reasons."

His heartbeat quickened. He remembered her face at the bookshop, admitting she was afraid of - well, exactly this, probably. And her face at the Malfoy ball, running away from their dance as soon as it had ended.

He opened his mouth to ask - but the familiar twisting feeling struck, and this time he didn't immediately reach for his 'water' bottle. He let the transformation take place, until he stood before her as Scorpius Malfoy, Edgar Spore's clothes hanging loosely on his thinner shoulders.

They looked at each other.

"That was quick," she said after a moment. "How long have you been here?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't sure if I should come tonight. I wandered around the block for a bit."

"Do you regret it?"

He laughed uncomfortably. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to regret."

"We didn't do anything -"

"Please, Rose. I might not remember how it ended, but I certainly remember how it started!"

She didn't look at him. "You know what I mean."

He watched her face, her hair tinged red in the light from the lamp. Edgar Spore might have been unemployed, but he was at heart a sane man. And what sane man, gentlemanly or not, would give up the chance to - "Why not?" he asked suddenly.

"I stopped."

Because she hadn't wanted to sleep with Edgar Spore when she really wanted Scorpius Malfoy?

For the first time since she'd shouted out, he felt a sliver of hope rise out of the mess that was his stomach.

"Don't give me that look! You've been in such a bizarre mood these last few days. I know it's something to do with work, but you and Finch won't tell me anything -"

"We work in the Department of Mysteries, for Pete's sake, we can't just go blurting out secrets -"

"I know, Scorp, but you could tell me what's wrong without telling me about your research." She laid her hand on his arm, and he was suddenly tempted to place his hand over hers. "I know why you've been visiting me these last few days. Scorpius has been avoiding me, but Edgar's come to see me nearly every day."

He winced at her perceptiveness. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"When was the last time you saw me?"

"At my parents' dinner. And if we're going to talk about avoiding people, you didn't seem so eager for my company after we danced." She made to withdraw her hand, but he didn't let her. "I'm not the only one who's afraid of getting involved."

"I'm not afraid!"

"That's not what you said in Flourish and Blotts."

She wasn't looking at him, but he could see her cheeks flush darkly. "I - I didn't say that to you."

He looked at her curiously. "What's the difference?" he asked. "You knew I was Scorpius all along. How come you could say all that stuff to Edgar, but you've never been able to say it to me?"

And the unspoken question - how could you kiss Edgar Spore so easily, and never so much as flirt with Scorpius Malfoy?

"It's different, okay?"

He took a step towards her, and suddenly they seemed too close even for him. Their bodies weren't quite touching, but he could feel the anticipation sizzling between them.

"Scorpius -"

"Could you kiss me?"

She didn't say yes, but she didn't move away, either. She simply stared at him, waiting for him to -

He kissed her. Scorpius Malfoy kissed Rose Weasley on the lips, and she didn't pull away. She kissed him back.

He wanted to deepen the kiss, but he held back, deliberately. This wasn't meant to lead into anything more. This was a statement, a close-mouthed declaration of intent, that this time he was Scorpius and she was Rose and they both knew exactly what they were doing.

And then she broke it off. "Not like this," she muttered, taking two quick steps away from him.

What?

"We should talk, Scorpius."

He didn't see talking and kissing as necessarily mutually exclusive. But he nodded anyway, and one more of the knots in his stomach started to evaporate. Edgar had been worrying him for much too long now.

"I..." He stopped, trying to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say. "This started before I started having trouble at work. I didn't mean for you to find out. I wanted - I wanted us to be more than friends, but Merlin, Rose, we've been friends since third year! I didn't want to ruin that!"

"You wanted to ask me out, so you deliberately got me interested in other guys?"

It wasn't like that. "I resent that. It was an experiment. To see what you liked. Figure out the most effective way of wooing you."

She giggled. "Trust you to take the scientific approach." Her expression sobered. "But you had to have known that I wouldn't react the same way to you as I did to all of those other guys."

"So you wouldn't have kissed me?" he asked drily.

"Don't be ridiculous." She kissed him softly, but he could tell she was holding something back. "You're my best friend, Scorpius. Edgar Spore might be basically you, but I don't have ten years of history with him, do I?"

"You're afraid of that ten years of history, aren't you?"

She didn't answer.

He pressed on. "The other night. When we danced. You ran away, admit it."

"Thought you'd already worked it out?"

He'd had his suspicions. But there was a difference between hoping and dreaming and actually hearing the words from her mouth. "It makes sense now, I suppose. You wanted to try it out, didn't you? Be with me without actually being with me."

"I didn't want you to find out this way."

"I didn't want you to find out about me at all, so I think we're even."

She smiled, and when she took his hand in hers he grinned back. "I worried you'd think I was - you know."

"What?"

"You know what I mean. I hardly knew Spore or Knightley before I started coming onto them. You must have thought I was -"

"A bit forward?" She nodded. "No man in his right mind thinks twice when a beautiful woman starts grinding up against him."

"You're different, though."

He liked that she thought that. "What do you mean?"

"Old-fashioned. Shy. Honorable."

"I'm not shy!"

She snorted. "That's why it took you three years to ask me out, I suppose."

He decided not to mention all the years before they'd left Hogwarts. "I didn't notice you making any moves on me."

"I didn't think you were interested." He looked up, and realised she'd retreated back into her shell. "Why would you be interested in your best friend? You could have anyone you wanted."

He snorted. "Trust me, that's not the case." And then he stopped. "Wait a minute. Were you..."

"I wanted to make you jealous," she said in a rush. "That's why I went dancing with Knightley that night. And then I saw Finch, and I knew he'd tell you he'd seen me, and -"

Dammit. He pulled her up to him, first into a hug and then into one of the sloppiest kisses he'd ever given. She pulled back, laughing, to wipe her mouth. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll do that properly next time."

She kissed him back before he had the chance, and something inside him wriggled with delight. She'd wanted him - Merlin, she'd deliberately set out to make him notice her, and now she was kissing him out of her own free will.

"Do you want to keep talking, or...?"

"I'm good," she whispered, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

What? "I don't expect -"

She stopped, then looked up at him. "I want to."

"I want to do this properly," he said quickly. Obviously he wasn't a sane man.

"It's not like we haven't done this before." She smiled up at him, and he shivered as she ran her fingers down his chest.

It was harder than he thought to push her away. "You know what I mean. I don't want this to just be a –"

"This could never be just a one-night thing, Scorpius."

That wasn't what he meant. He suddenly needed her to know that he wanted more from her than just - He was serious about this, dammit, even if his ridiculous scheme said otherwise...

How could he convince her that he didn't just want to jump into bed with her? His heart sped up as he watched her, eyes wide as she waited for his response. His mother's reminders from Saturday night flashed into his mind, but he forced that particular thought right out again.

For now.

He turned to face her directly. He took both her hands in his, looked straight at her and somehow managed not to feel like an idiot. But he had to say this, had to make her realise how much he liked her –

Loved her.

An image appeared in his mind. Rose standing in her kitchen, a roast in the oven, as Scorpius pushed open the door, boater in hand, shouting out a honey-I'm-home. He grinned. Except that Rose would be more likely to be scribbling down notes on her latest case than bringing out the old apron, and his purposeful nineteen-fifties stride would probably be better described as a distracted amble...

"Scorpius?"

The vision was wonderful. He could only stare at her blankly, all thought of what he'd been about to say having fled. He clutched her hands in his, hoping that somehow she'd realise what he wanted to tell her.

His entire chest was shaking, his heart feeling impossibly full at the realisation of how much he wanted to...

Not stuff this up.

Rose let go of his hands. "I'm happy to go slow if you want to."

He gaped at her. And then he pulled her into his arms.

She wanted to do this. "I love you," he mumbled into her hair, and for a moment he thought she hadn't heard.

But then she stiffened, and he panicked. "Don't say anything," he said sharply. He shouldn't have said that, dammit, not after he'd just told her he wanted to take this slowly.

He tightened his hold around her, and she relaxed against his chest. "I want to do this properly," he repeated. "Take you out, introduce you to my family..."

"Woo me?" she finished, laughing.

"I could court you, if you prefer?"

She pushed herself away, her arms still around his neck. "I'd like that." She leaned in and kissed him softly on the neck. "I'd like it even more if you stayed tonight. We don't have to do anything you don't want to –"

"Trust me, it's not a question of not wanting to."

"Then why don't we just take it as it comes?"

She made as if to drag him inside, but he had to make this absolutely clear. They'd – he'd – been dancing around each other for too long now for him to let this slide.

"This is us," he said quietly. "Scorpius and Rose. No secrets. No disguises. No pretending this is –" He broke off. "I want to – be with you. Go out with you. Dammit, that's not what I want to say..."

She looked up at him, and the look in her eyes reassured him.

"You know this is serious, right? That I'm serious about you, and this whole thing? Even though I've been such an idiot with this whole Edgar thing?" She was nodding and laughing, but for some reason he couldn't stop babbling. "I meant what I said about this not being a temporary thing. I want this to go on. I'm not saying I want to marry you – I mean, not that I don't want to marry you, it's just – maybe one day –"

"Scorpius."

"What?"

"You're being adorably, ridiculously awkward –" she swept him into a kiss, and he grinned stupidly – "and if you ever do decide to propose to me, I expect a better effort than that one. Now, are you going to stop overthinking things and kiss me, or are we going to stand out here all night while you angst over your feelings?"

That wasn't even a question.

For the second time in as many days Scorpius Malfoy woke up feeling contented. This time probably even more so than the last, because a warm bed is a lot more comfortable than a couch shared between two people.

"Good morning," came Rose's voice from somewhere to his left. She wriggled closer and he rolled over, pulling her body towards him.

He kissed her lazily. "Good morning to you, too."

"Much as I'd like to continue this conversation," she whispered back, her hands moving in very interesting ways under the blanket, "my alarm is going to go off any minute now, and I have a feeling you have a big day at work today..."

Work.

"What's the time?"

She glanced at the clock. "Half eight. I go to work late on Tuesdays -"

He swore, rolling away from her, and stared up at the ceiling. He had to stop Time for goddamn Flint in half an hour, and he still had no idea what the hell he was going to say.

He leaned over and gave her a hard kiss on the lips. "I have to go."

Her eyes widened as he got out of the bed. "I'm so sorry, Scorp - I completely didn't think -"

"It's not your fault."

Blaming Rose didn't change the fact that he'd had three years to prepare for this one day. It wasn't her fault he'd been relying on those last few hours.

He pulled on yesterday's clothes. There wasn't time to go back to his place to change, and besides, he couldn't just leave Rose...

"You can't wear that. Here, I've got one of your shirts somewhere, Edgar's robes are far too big for you –"

As if to prove her point, Edgar's too-large coat slipped from his shoulders, the pockets emptying onto the floor. Dammit! He was already late –

He bent to pick up his wallet, some papers, and... what was that?

"Didn't I give this to you?"

He looked up, and a flash of deja vu rushed through him. That day outside the Ministry, when he'd fallen at her feet...

"I think you dropped this," she said carefully, handing him a small object. "I'm sorry again for bumping into you."

The spring.

He felt an illogical jolt of embarrassment. Now she'd know he'd carried it around with him, like some sort of stupid token of her affection.

"I'm glad you kept this."

"It wasn't mine," he said, feeling the need to admit the truth. "I didn't drop it that day."

"I know." She winked at him, handing him the shirt she'd fetched for him. "I gave it to you deliberately."

"What?"

"Just to be sure it was you. And I was right, wasn't I?"

He frowned. "How did you know I wouldn't just throw it away?"

She laughed, and gave her bedside table – and her wand – a speaking glance. "Let's just say I didn't leave it to chance."

"So that's why I haven't been able to stop thinking about the damn thing!"

"Aw, give it here. I think it's served its purpose, wouldn't you say?" She reached for her wand, but he held out a hand to stop her.

"I rather like having it around, actually." He gave it an experimental pull, and it sprung back immediately. After all this time it still hadn't lost its stretch.
"It reminds me of you."

"You know, most people just carry a locket."

"Any reason I can't have both? Besides, this is much more fun to play with..."

And then he froze.

How had he not made the connection before? He'd literally sat there, playing with this spring and wondering how to solve his trainee project, and the whole time the answer had been right in front of him. He'd been right about Muggle science being the answer, but in a way he never would have expected. Merlin, a three-year-old could have thought about it –

"Scorpius?"

Rose's voice came to him through a mist, his mind still working through the details of his theory.

"Scorpius, put your shirt on, you have to go to work –"

Work! He shoved on his shirt and threw Edgar's coat over his shoulder. "My meeting's at nine," he said, and kissed her before she could stop him. "And when I get out of it I might be unemployed. I love you!"

He sprinted to her front door, and just as he spun out of existence he saw her gaping face in the living room.

Well, he hadn't said this courtship was going to be normal, had he?

He saw the clipboard before he saw Flint himself.

"Malfoy! I see you've decided to grace us with your presence."

It was nine o'clock on the dot, as evidenced by the several hundred clocks surrounding them, and Scorpius had no compunction telling Flint exactly that.

"Never mind," Flint said easily, making as though to pat Scorpius on the back. Scorpius deflected the motion with a wave to the old man behind him. Merlin, what was his name? He'd met him yesterday, with Finch, and he seemed nice enough, but...

"Mr Malfoy, this is Samuel Davies. He'll be observing the interview today."

Finch hadn't said anything about having observers!

Dammit, he was nervous again. He thanked the gods he'd had the presence of mind to leave his papers at his desk yesterday afternoon.

"I've prepared some notes on my activities in the Department for the last three years," he said clearly – or he hoped he did, anyway. Flint's mocking stare wasn't doing much to help his composure.

Flint waved his hand lazily. "There'll be plenty of time for that later, Mr Malfoy. No pun intended, of course." Scorpius smiled politely. "But I've been looking forward to seeing your demonstration all evening, so why don't you start with that?"

Scorpius couldn't resist playing dumb. "A demonstration of the results of my trainee project, sir?"

"What else? You know what you're supposed to do. I want to see you -" he paused dramatically, for no reason at all - "stop Time itself."

Scorpius smiled slightly. "I'm afraid that'll be impossible."

"So you can't do it?" The gleam in Flint's eye was insufferable. Scorpius could practically see the line going through his name as he spoke. He was treading a fine line here, but the breakthrough had him sitting on edge, his heart racing as he balanced the tightrope –

"Nobody can. It's a physical impossibility."

Behind Flint, Samuel Davies sat up a little straighter, his gaze sharpening on Scorpius. "Go on," he said slowly.

Flint narrowed his eyes, but Davies couldn't see. "You mean to tell me you've been sitting in this lab for –" he checked his clipboard – "three years, and all you've managed to conclude is that if you can't do it, no-one can."

"He's not finished," Davies said sharply, and Scorpius watched the two of them with interest. Maybe he'd misjudged their respective positions...

He swallowed, and resumed his presentation, unable to resist aiming it at Davies rather than Flint. "I can explain two ways of approximately stopping Time, though."

Flint snorted. "Slowing it down doesn't count."

"Gods, Flint, would you shut up and let the boy explain?"

Scorpius looked at him gratefully. Davies nodded impatiently, and waved for him to continue. "Go on, Scorpius."

"Do you mind if I go over some of the background first?"

Davies shrugged, glancing dismissively at Flint. "Some of us here are clearly not up to date with the latest temporal research, so that's probably wise under the circumstances. As for me, go right ahead. Just try to get to the point quickly, okay? I haven't had breakfast yet."

Finch took offence to that. "Who's running this interview?" he blustered, and Davies surrendered the floor to him with a small bow – and a wink at Scorpius, who grinned, suddenly reassured. Maybe his fate wasn't in the hands of Flint, after all...

"There are two ways we know of to change the normal passage of time," Scorpius said quickly. "Obviously Time-Turners, the most common way, and then there's the Bell Jar. Time-Turners don't stop the passing of time, or even its rate – they merely shift the –" What was the phrase? An image of his grandmother's old music player floated into his mind. "They lift the needle of the record player and place it back down somewhere in the past. And Time continues on, with two copies this time of the operator."

He stopped, but Flint and Davies were still listening. "I'm going to make the point that the only way to stop Time – effectively, if not actually –" he was rather proud of that phrase, for something he'd made up on the spot – "is by repetitive application of techniques we already have -"

"Time-turners go through Time at the same pace as everything else, there's no way you could use them to stop Time."

Yes, he'd just said that. "Which in and of itself is actually not a problem, Mr Flint. The problem is that Time-Turners result in a copy of the operator, and I don't know how well the fabric of the universe could cope with that. Merlin, especially if we made it recursive..."

Davies coughed. "I believe you might be wandering from that point of yours."

"Sorry, sir, I get carried away sometimes. Anyway, I've written down my thoughts on the matter, you can read them if you're interested."

"Your point."

"I don't think Time-Turners are the answer," Scorpius said bluntly, and Davies gave him an approving smile. "I think we should look at the Bell Jar for ideas."

Davies gave him a curious look. "No-one remembers how the Bell Jar was constructed. Or enchanted, for that matter."

"I may or may not have mentioned that my ideas can't all be put into practice with the Ministry's current resources."

Flint snorted, finally finding a topic he could relate to. "This Department wastes enough money as it stands. We're not squandering money on intern projects."

"I'm a trainee, not an intern," Scorpius said sharply – and immediately regretted it. Just because Davies was prepared to listen to his ideas didn't mean the interview was in the bag.

"Why don't we talk theory, then?" Davies suggested, before Flint could inject a reply. "There's no need to bother Mr Flint with talk of dull practicalities like money."

And here was his big moment. "Watch the Jar as it reaches the end of a cycle. It's like a spring, going backwards and forwards. But more importantly watch the rate, Mr Flint, how it slows down at the ends – there it goes, now – slower, slower, slower – and now it returns, slowly but forward, and faster and faster..."

Davies was excited now. "And –"

"- It stops. Time itself just stopped inside that jar."

Flint opened his mouth in shock. Then closed it just as swiftly. "Come now, Mr Malfoy, you can hardly expect to claim credit for that. Besides, it only happened for a second -"

"Merlin's arse, stick to accounts and shut up, will you?"

Scorpius gaped at Davies. He had certainly not been expecting that outburst. "Sir...?"

"Not you, Scorpius, gods. I think this man must have been born in a barn, though. No appreciation for the world's mysteries whatsoever. Come, let's go closer."

For once Flint had no slick reply to make. He watched them walk away, to the corner where the old Bell Jar sat in pride of place.

"I was going to say, sir," Scorpius continued, deciding it was best to ignore him for the time being, "that if one could make a smaller and smaller jar -"

Davies frowned. "What do you mean by smaller? You'd still have to fit someone in it, surely -"

He was rubbish at explaining things. He summoned a piece of parchment and a quill from his desk. "Not physically smaller. I was thinking more of the - axes? The spokes? The radius?" He scribbled as he spoke, explaining on paper what he couldn't explain in words.

He looked up to see Davies staring at him with a look of - admiration? Slowly, Davies reached for the parchment, his eyes still fixed on Scorpius.

Then he looked down. "You see Time in two dimensions?" he asked curiously.

What? Not necessarily, but - what an interesting idea! "No," he admitted. "That is - I've never thought about it. Anyway, sir, about stopping Time -"

"I think know what you're trying to say..."

Scorpius nodded eagerly, the pieces tumbling together as he spoke. "The Bell Jar is like a wheel trapped in the timeline. And it cycles through an object's life - yes, that's it, the object's lifetime is the radius of the wheel, and if you made it small enough -"

Davies snapped his fingers. "Like a smooth version of a series of Time-Turners going back to the same time."

"That's why I think of it in two dimensions. But it doesn't matter, really, does it? It could be a constant spinning circle, it could be a - a spring bouncing up and down, it's all just a different way of looking at it -"

Davies stopped suddenly, and strode back to Flint.

The old fear returned. He knew he was onto something. This had to be the secret, it absolutely had to be, and he was ninety percent convinced Davies agreed - but Davies wasn't the one making the decision.

Flint was.

And Scorpius had the feeling he was not in Flint's good books at the moment.

He watched them confer, unable to hear what they were saying. The last knots in his stomach clenched up and multiplied - and then Flint turned around and called his name.

An hour later, Scorpius stepped out of the clanking elevator and into the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic.

Rose Weasley was waiting for him.

She leapt up from her bench when she saw him. Scorpius couldn't help but notice it was the same bench where she'd met Edgar Spore, and he wondered if it was a coincidence. She ran to him, her eyes searching his face for signs of what had happened.

"How did it go?" she asked, too casually.

He told her the truth. "Flint didn't like me."

"Flint...?" Her eyes widened. "Your new boss?"

"The one I told you about last night."

"And you didn't make it, did you?"

He didn't answer. She took one look at his face and threw herself at him, enveloping him in an embrace that almost strangled him with its power.

"I don't care, Scorpius Malfoy," she said against his chest. "Don't you dare think you're getting away after what happened last night. You said you were serious, dammit, you said you'd stick with me, with us, I'm not letting you run away again -"

She pulled away, dragging her hands up to his cheeks, and looked straight at him. "I love you, Scorpius Malfoy. Not your job."

"That's good," Scorpius murmured, pulling her back into the hug. "Because my job is not currently on the market."

She stilled.

And looked up at him. "You mean...?"

"I'm not fired." He grinned, suddenly, madly, and gave into an urge he'd had since Davies and Flint had first given him the news. He picked her up by the waist and swung her around, uncaring of who might see them. "In fact," he whispered in her ear, setting her down again, "I got a promotion."

And as a full-blown Unspeakable, he probably shouldn't have admitted that.

He knew he was still grinning like an idiot, but it was impossible to stop. He'd gotten a promotion. Somehow managed to land a job on Davies' research team. Admitted he was crazy in love with his best friend.

And she was in love with him.

"Say it again," he demanded.

She stepped back. "Say what?"

"You know what, you little minx."

She laughed, a twinkle in her eye as she crooked her finger at him. "Come here, my little spell monkey."

"Let's be absolutely clear on who you mean..."

"I love you, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Got anything to say about that?"

Scorpius Malfoy had never been a man of words. So he kissed her instead.