XXI.

Dinner at Malfoy Manner was a serious affair. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had taken up residence in Southern France, and only visited on rare occasions, therefore heightening the level of pomp and circumstance surrounding their infrequent visits to the manor. The house elves had outdone themselves. The hall was spotless, and the elaborate five-course meal they'd prepared was being served up on silver platters.

Despite that, Astoria's mother and father-in-law seemed displeased, and the reason was evident. Since they had all seated themselves and begun the meal, little Scorpius had been loudly and hysterically expressing his displeasure. By sobbing and screaming. Astoria had done her best to quiet him, of course, but Scorpius was only five and didn't quite understand why he wasn't allowed to go to his friend Jasper's birthday party with the rest of his friends, and had been instead forced into dress robes to share an unpleasant meal with his grandparents.

"Draco," Lucius hissed, pointing toward the boy with his fork.

"I've told him to stop," Draco said through gritted teeth. He resolutely looked away from his son, who was mid-tantrum, with snot dripping down his face and sauce smeared across his table settings.

"And clearly he doesn't respect your authority," Narcissa said primly. She nodded toward her husband. "Your father never let you get away with that sort of transgression."

Lucius cleared his throat.

"You have to discipline him."

Draco shook his head dismissively.

"Draco!" Lucius said, his mouth turned down at the corners. "You will deal with this."

After a long pause, her husband rose stiffly from his seat. He gave Lucius a curt nod.

"Scorpius," Draco said in a low voice, "come with me."

Astoria watched as her son grudgingly jumped off his seat and followed his father out of the room, still sniffling, and entirely unaware of the meaning of the conversation that had just occurred before his very eyes. They headed up the stairs together.

Astoria held her breath. Both Naricissa and Lucius continued eating, without pausing to spare their departing son or grandson a second look.

A few minutes passed before she heard the first crack of the belt. Barely a second passed before she heard it again.

And then again, and again, and again.

"Astoria," Lucius sad calmly, as she listened to the sound of her husband taking a belt to her son.

"Yes?" she choked out.

"Would you pass the salt?"

XXII.

"Hold on, Jasper" Scorpius said. "Is there really any benefit, I mean any benefit at all, to winning the house cup?"

"There you go again with the anarchy," Eoin said.

The three of them were skiving classes. It was an oddly summery late September day, and Scorpius has proposed that they ditch History of Magic in favor of a swim in the lake. Subsequently, Eoin had produced a joint and uttered the fortuitous words: "Anyone wanna smoke a doobie?" And so there they were, laying about in the sun and making no real attempt to disguise the fact that they were smoking and unabashedly enjoying the good weather.

"I guess it's just tradition," Jasper said, shrugging. "Sometimes tradition is good."

"This particular tradition I can get behind," Scorpius said, grinning as he raised the joint he held between his fingers above his head. "By the way, how much do I owe you for this, Eoin?"

"Don't worry about it. I've smoked yours dozens of times in the past few years. It'll even out by the time we graduate."

Scorpius nodded. He knew Eoin would respond like that because the three of them always did, but it still felt wrong not to ask.

"Hey," Jasper said suddenly. "This is a good tree."

"…What?"

Jasper stood up and gave the tree he'd been leaning against a soft kick. "This one. This is a good tree. It's quite sturdy."

Scorpius and Eoin exchanged a puzzled glance.

"I'm going to climb it," Jasper announced.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Scorpius muttered, shaking his head.

Eoin, however, seemed to be enjoying this. "Please do," he said. "I want to see this. No, strike that, I need to see this."

After three failed attempts, Jasper resumed sitting beside the two of them, frowning.

"Don't worry, mate," Eoin said, clearly holding back laughter. "You'll get it right next time."

"Oh, fuck off," Jasper shot back. "And pass me the joint."

Scorpius glanced at his watch. "Fuck me, I've got to go soon."

"Where to, my good lad?" Eoin asked.

"Need to meet my Charms partner."

Ahh, yes," Jasper said sagely. "Your redheaded ex-girlfriend."

"I never dated her," Scorpius said, turning bright red.

"Right," Jasper said, and winked.

Scorpius contemplated punching him, but decided against it.

"You know I'm just screwing with you, right?" Jasper asked after a moment. "You've been…I dunno, you've been weird lately."

"Unresponsive," Eoin quipped.

"Dickish," Jasper supplied helpfully.

"I know…I've felt like shit lately," Scorpius said. It was the truth, only he'd never gone out of the way to acknowledge it. Life was less colorful for him than perhaps it was intended to be. He felt happy sometimes, of course, but it was always there – a sense of sadness he'd never asked for.

"Scorpius," Eoin said, as if speaking to a small child, "the reason you feel like shit is because you consistently do shitty things."

"That…that is a very true statement," Scorpius acknowledged.

"You treat people like shit," Eoin continued.

"Well…yeah."

"Self-actualization aside," Jasper said, cutting unceremoniously into their conversation, "what do you think the odds are that Ava agrees to go to Hogsmede with me this weekend?"

"Mate," Scorpius said slowly, "even if Ava didn't despise you, the fact that she's not exactly keen on blokes in general might be a slight obstacle."

"Wait. What?"

"She fancies the pants off Elaine Parkinson. You know her? Leggy blonde who graduated the year before us?"

Jasper's eyes widened.

"Shit. I…I'd watch that."

"Jesus," Scorpius muttered, rolling his eyes. But after a moment's consideration, grudgingly added, "I suppose I would too."

Jasper laughed.

"Hey," Scorpius said, "want to hear a secret?"

"Not particularly," Eoin said.

"I actually feel pretty good about life right now," Scorpius said, ignoring his friend.

"And why is that a secret?" Jasper asked.

"I'm not sure," Scorpius said, and then after a moment – "you know, it's probably not."

"Probably," Jasper agreed. "But you never know. Might as well keep that sort of thing to yourself, just in case."

Eoin let out a dry laugh. "You're both idiots."

"Why are you our friend anyway?" Jasper said, grinning as he passed the joint to Eoin.

Eoin took a hit and adjusted the rolling paper. "I dunno. Cus of shit like this, I think," he said. "We should do more shit like this. Climb trees and go swimming in the lake."

"And get high," Jasper supplied helpfully.

"I don't think any one of us is high right now," Scorpius mused. "I mean there's a difference – a difference between smoking with some friends and getting stoned."

"I mean it," Eoin continued, largely ignoring the two of them, as he often did. "We have to take advantage of things like this while we're young. I don't expect we'll all talk much in a few months' time."

"What, are you not planning on keeping in touch after graduation?" Jasper asked.

"Not with you," Eoin shot back with a cocky grin.

"Oh, fuck off," Jasper muttered.

"So according to Eoin – who, I think we can all agree, is generally considered the most responsible one of us – we should be spending our youth climbing trees, swimming in lakes, and getting high?" Scorpius asked.

Eoin frowned. "Well, that's not exactly what I meant. You're taking it far too literally."

"Ah, fuck it," Jasper said. "We'll all be dead soon anyway."

"Hear, hear," Scorpius called, laughing. "I'll smoke to that."

"Now that's ironic," Eoin quipped.

"Hey. Eoin."

"Yeah, Jasper?"

"Shut the hell up."

XXIII.

Eighteen months to live wasn't much. It was less than nine percent of the time she'd spent on this planet so far. It was a trip and a half around the sun. It was inconsequential, meaningless, superficial. It was far too short to accomplish anything significant, and far, far too long to be wasted seated in a library with a grumpy and deadly silent Charms partner, while a group of fifth years made eyes at him from a table away.

And to be clear, 'grumpy' and 'silent' were the most polite adjectives Rose could call to mind that described the behavior of her Charms partner. 'Douchecanoe' or 'insufferably obnoxious' would've done in a pinch. He'd been absolutely useless as far as getting assignments done on time or even at assisting her on the occasions that he perfected a spell before she did.

Beyond that, he seemed to find it torturous to even speak with her. He hardly ever looked her in the eye. And so, two weeks into Charms, Rose was ready to call it quits on their partnership. The two of them had been in the library for over an hour now, but Scorpius had contributed nothing – nothing at all – to their current essay. Rose had arrived early and collected the books they needed to cite, and set about looking for relevant passages. She'd made significant headway researching the subject.

In the meantime, Scorpius had begun and abandoned two doodles in the corner of his parchment, all the while studiously avoiding eye-contact.

All in all, things were going rather terribly.

"Do you even know them?" Rose said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them.

Scorpius seemed surprised that she was talking to him.

"Who?" he asked.

"Them," Rose said, pointing behind him to the table of fifth years, who promptly averted their eyes from Scorpius and resumed giggling.

"Oh," he said. He raked a hand through his hair and shot a lazy smile at them. "No," he said, turning back to Rose, "but I'd like to."

Rose rolled her eyes and underlined a particularly useful passage.

Scorpius stood up and pushed his chair in.

"If you'll excuse me," he said, and went around the table to go and greet his fifth year fans.

Rose actually didn't mind. It was easier to work alone, without her partner's presence being imposed upon her. He didn't seem bothered by it, but Rose struggled to focus when he was sitting across from her, and for good reason. For one, he was rather attractive. More importantly, though, he was an arse who'd unceremoniously abandoned their friendship and become someone else entirely.

He returned a good ten minutes later, seating himself across from her once more. He grabbed an arbitrary book and examined the cover disinterestedly.

"Can I be very candid with you for a moment?" Rose asked, tapping her quill impatiently against her textbook.

Scorpius set the book down slowly and shrugged.

"Why did you drunkenly stumble into the Room of Requirement hours after my literary meeting had ended, and then, of all bloody things, ask me to be your Charms partner?"

His mouth opened and shut, as if of its own accord, but no words came out.

One of the perks of having eighteen months left to live was that Rose was able to derive some measure of satisfaction by being impolitely blunt, rather than turning redder than her hair, as she'd been known to do in the past.

"It was a bet," he said, finally.

"I'd considered that," Rose said, nodding. She glanced down at her hands in her lap; the skin around her nails raw and pink, the nails on her fingers jagged and bitten down with worry. She took a deep breath and leveled Scorpius Malfoy with her gaze. "Well, you've met your obligation to Kenneth Crowley or whoever it was that dared you to do it. You can leave now."

He stared at her blankly for a moment.

"Pardon?"

"I'm asking you to leave," Rose said. "I have no interest in being partnered with you, and you clearly have no interest in being partnered with me either. So the solution is very straightforward. We needn't work together."

"You…you don't…this is the library. You can't tell me to leave," he said stupidly, his cheeks flushing.

Rose exhaled loudly and closed her eyes for a moment, willing her heart to stop beating so quickly and so loudly for a moment. He was just a stupid boy. A stupid, pretty boy who used to be her dearest friend, and she was a stupid, selfish girl who was dying.

"Okay," she said. "Okay, you're right. I'll go." She rose to her feet and hurriedly began to gather her things.

Scorpius had the grace to look ashamed, and Rose couldn't help but feel a tiny bit sad. She wasn't being too harsh, was she? But this whole situation was ridiculous and had to be dealt with.

It was a bet.

He wasn't her friend.

He probably never was, and she didn't have enough time left to worry about people like him. Well, after she had a good cry tonight in her dormitory – after that, she'd stop worrying about people like him. Somehow.

"No," he said. "I'll go."

He stiffly rose to his feet, stuffed his parchment into his bag, and stood up.

Then, after a moment's hesitation, sat back down.

"Look," he said, cutting Rose off before she could voice her anger. "I…I know."

"Know what?" Rose asked incredulously.

Scorpius appeared to be struggling for words. Rose found that she was actually enjoying this a little bit.

"I know that you…I mean – " he broke off.

"Christ," Rose said. "Are you going to finish any of your sentences? If not, let me know. I'll leave; you don't have to." Rose flinched. Perhaps she was being a bit too harsh. She bit back an instinctive apology and waited for Scorpius to respond.

"I know that I haven't been a good partner," Scorpius blurted out.

"Well, yes, you've hardly been cooperative," Rose laughed, feeling somewhat relieved that he didn't seem annoyed by her unusual bluntness.

"And I intend to remedy that," Scorpius continued.

"You could always start by not being my partner," Rose suggested. "I think that's the first mistake you should fix."

Scorpius grimaced.

"Let's get back to work," he said. Rose would've sworn his face had gone a little pink.

"Sure, but separately," Rose said. "Not as partners. Because we aren't partners."

"We're definitely partners," Scorpius countered.

"We're definitely not."

"Definitely are. Are being the operative word."

"Are you literally five?" Rose spluttered.

"Literally? No. Figuratively? This many," Scorpius said, holding up four fingers. He flinched. "For the record, I'm not always this weird. I'm coming down from a…uh…high."

"Wonderful," Rose said, "and that's another reason why we are no longer partners."

"We ought to fix that," Scorpius fired back. "Would you like to be partners?"

Rose stared at him intently for a moment before he terribly characteristically looked away.

"We haven't talked like this in a while," she said.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. And then: "I forgot how easy it is to talk to you."

Rose shrugged, willing her excitement to not show externally.

"Which makes it even stupider that the reason I've been so standoffish isn't because of some idiotic house rivalry, or because I hate you, personally – it's just – "

"Just what?" Rose said, her heart quickening its pace.

"Just that I've had a hard time trying to talk to you."

"Why's that?" Rose asked, leaning forward.

He couldn't meet her eyes as he said it.

"Because you're dying."

XXI.

"I…I need you to do me a favor," Draco said.

The boy frowned

"Look, I'll give you candy if you cooperate."

"Mummy says I'm not supposed to have candy after it's dark out. She says I won't fall asleep. She says – "

"Are you telling me you don't want candy?" Draco said in disbelief.

"No, I want candy. It's just that Mummy says I can't have candy. Because it's dark out and I won't fall asleep and – "

"Scorpius," Draco said, cupping his son's chin and looking him directly in the eyes. "This is going to be our secret, alright? If you cooperate I'll give you candy, and Mummy will never have to know. Understand?"

The boy's eye's widened. "A…a secret? I've always wanted a secret. Last week Ava had a secret but she wouldn't let me have it so this is my first time having a secret."

"That's wonderful, Scorpius," Draco said. "Here's what we're going to do. First, you're going to go to bed."

"No! No! It's not my bedtime!" Scorpius protested.

"Quiet!" Draco yelled, raking a hand through his hair in exasperation. "If you want your candy, you're going to go to bed, and you have to promise me that you'll not tell anyone I sent you to bed."

Scorpius opened his mouth and began to speak with a confused look on his face.

" – No," Draco cut in before the boy could even start. "You can't tell Ava, or Mummy, or even the house elf. Do you understand?"

Scorpius nodded uncertainly. Draco give him a soft push toward the side door.

"Once you're in bed, call Missy. She'll fetch you candy from the kitchens and tuck you in, yeah?"

The boy nodded again.

"Go," Draco said. Scorpius gave him a sidelong glance, bit his lip contemplatively, and stumbled out of the room.

Draco stood motionlessly in the empty room for a moment, wondering why it felt as if his hands had suddenly turned to lead. What he had to do was simple enough. His father had done it countless times, only he'd been the recipient, not some third-rate bedding. Lucius Malfoy had never been horrified by the thought of beating his son.

This isn't who I am.

He removed his belt.

And brought it down, as hard as he could on the bed. Once. Twice. Thrice. Smoke and mirrors. Perhaps he wasn't man enough to raise his son right – to discipline him the way Malfoy men were disciplined, to set Scorpius on the same path as his father and grandfather and the countless others who had felt the crack of a belt upon their back. Downstairs at the dining table his parents would be able to hear the sound of his belt cutting through the air, and they would approve. And Astoria?

Draco didn't know what his wife would think.

He lost count, but supposed he'd reached somewhere around ten before he methodically put his belt back on and stepped through the door. His feet seemed to be moving of their own accord; he headed down the stairs, past the smirking face of his father seated at the dining table, and to the kitchens, where he poured himself a fifth of whiskey.

A quarter of a bottle later, he rose from where he'd been seated on the kitchen floor, and stumbled to his room, desperate for a dreamless sleep. His wife was in bed already.

"I noticed the strangest thing," Astoria said, watching him impassively as he stripped of his clothes.

Draco gave her a curt shake of his head in response, as if to make it known he wasn't in the slightest mood for conversation. He faced away from her as he pulled his shirt over his head, unwilling to meet his wife's eyes.

"I noticed," Astoria said, "that someone destroyed the bedding in the east guest room. It was almost as if they'd taken a belt to it. Repeatedly."

He turned and looked at her.

"Now why would someone do that?" she asked, her face betraying no emotion.

"I don't know," he said, infinitely thankful that he'd somehow managed to speak past the knot lodged in his throat.

"Would they do it, perhaps, because they were a good father?"

"Pardon?" Draco said, blinking in surprise.

"Well it's the only reason I can think of," Astoria said airily. "Someone destroyed the bedding in the guest room, and they did it because they are a good, and kind and loving father. Don't you think?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco responded, a bit too quickly, but the wave of relief that washed over him at the sound of her words was cathartic. She knew – of course she knew, and of course she understood.

He climbed into bed beside his wife and pulled her close.

"You're a good man, Draco," she said. "And you'd best believe me when I say that."

She knew exactly what words to say, but he didn't. He hadn't the faintest idea how to adequately thank her.

"I love you," he said simply.

Astoria laughed. "I know," she said, resting her head against his chest, "but if you ever have the house elf give Scorpius candy right before his bedtime again, we're getting a divorce."

A/N: A million thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. I'm not exaggerating when I say you guys are the reason I write. I truly appreciate it.