Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Written for Sophy (Slytherin Cat) courtesy of the Gift-Giving Extravaganza 2014. Sorry this is late, and I really hope you enjoy it!

He doesn't expect to find anybody else there.

The Restricted Section isn't guarded at night. The barred gate is locked, of course, but it's nothing a simple Alohomora won't fix. Apparently the teachers rely on the threat of detention and points taken away to scare students away from sneaking in. For many students, that works.

Not for Scorpius Malfoy.

He doesn't care about detention. After the detention fiascos during the Second Wizarding War - first with Dolores Umbridge and then with the Carrows - everyone has made a point to ensure that the detentions at Hogwarts are completely humane. Mundane and boring, yes, but not painful. The thought of spending a night doing lines or cleaning up a classroom doesn't bother Scorpius, and it certainly doesn't scare him. And getting points taken away? Ha. As if he actually cares about who wins the House Cup. There's nothing more to that than bragging rights.

That being said, he does make an effort to be as silent as possible as he makes his way up to the library. Just because he doesn't care about punishment doesn't mean he wants to get caught. Getting caught would mean being escorted right back to the dormitory, and he doesn't feel like staying in tonight.

His bag is slung over his shoulder, with his notebook and pencils inside. Using quills is fine for essays, but when he's writing something for pleasure he doesn't feel like stopping every ten seconds to dip his quill in ink again. Muggle implements allow him to just write, without having to stop. The words just flow out of him sometimes; it's a great feeling.

The library is dark, but once inside, he lights his wand so that he can see properly. Unlike the corridors, there's no torches on the walls here to provide extra light. Scorpius carefully makes his way to the Restricted Section. If he wanted, he could technically write in the main part of the library, but he likes it there in the back. It feels more private, more protected, and nobody passing by can see the light of his wand if he's all the way back there.

He unlocks the door of the Restricted Section with Alohomora and pushes it open, stepping inside. The door swings closed behind him, making a noise that's a little too loud for comfort, but he's more concerned with the fact that there's already another light - someone has a lantern on one of the tables, and he can hear movement in the shelves.

His first instinct is to leave, but as he's halfway turned around, he freezes. This other person has no more of a right to the Restricted Section than he does; there's no reason why he has to concede and let them be alone. Besides, it's not like he'll bother the other student - he just wants to be able to write in peace.

He steps forward a little bit; his foot lands on what has to be the creakiest floorboard in all of Hogwarts. The sound echoes through the stacks, and somebody jumps out in front of him, wand pointed two inches away from his throat. He recognizes her - it's Lily Potter, two years younger than him, a fellow Slytherin.

"Somebody comes into the Restricted Section at -" He checks his watch. "Twelve-thirty in the morning, and your instinct is to shove your wand at their throat? What if I was a prefect - or a professor?"

Lily shoves her wand in her pocket. "I didn't actually attack you, so calm down." She folds her arms. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

He raises his eyebrows and looks down at her. She's a tiny little thing - five-two, maybe, and slim. She's fifteen - or sixteen; he has no idea when her birthday falls - but she could pass for somebody younger if it weren't for the cool, fierce look in her eyes. He feels like a giant next to her, even though he's not overly tall. "I could ask you the same question, you know," he says.

She rolls her eyes at him. "If you must know," she says, "I'm reading."

"You're reading."

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Why are you reading in the middle of the night? You could always get a pass from one of the professors." Scorpius has no idea how easy or difficult this is. He's never needed a pass to the Restricted Section in all his years of Hogwarts. A couple of his friends have, and he's used the books they've checked out as reference material for essays, but he's never been the one to ask a professor for permission.

"They don't just give out passes," Lily says. "You need a reason. And nothing we're studying in fifth year is dark enough to warrant needing a book from in here."

"You just want to read dark restricted books for fun?"

She sighs. "Yes. I do. And if you tell anybody that, I will curse you so hard that you'll be celebrating your next hundred birthdays in St. Mungo's."

He stares at her, trying to decide whether she's joking or not. He can't decide; she spoke so seriously that he can't help but wonder, even though normally fifteen-year-old girls don't throw around Dark threats. "Uh, my lips are sealed," he says instead. "So. Why is the daughter of Harry Potter interested in the Dark Arts and whatever other weird shit is in these books? I mean, shouldn't you be a bit..." He doesn't know how to finish the sentence without offending her.

"Nicer? Lighter? Probably." She shrugs. "Honestly, I don't know. I think Dark magic is fascinating. And it's useful knowledge, besides. What if somebody broke into my house one day to murder me? You think I could win a duel using Stunners and Disarming Charms?"

"Probably not," Scorpius admits. He looks at Lily again. He doesn't know what to think of her. They've never really talked before. They've seen each other, of course, and there's been a few brief interactions - "Pass the salt", "Thanks for holding the door", etc. - but they're certainly not close. Scorpius can't deny that she's interesting, though, and even a little intimidating. He can't think of too many girls who sneak into the Restricted Section to read about the Dark Arts, especially ones that come from a family of war heroes who fought against Voldemort. "Am I the only one who knows about..." He gestures around. "Your little habit?"

"Well, of course." Lily rolls her eyes. "You really think I'd be able to tell anybody in my family that I'm interested in the Dark Arts? With all of them being who they are? I'd be dragged to St. Mungo's psych ward within five seconds." She shakes her head. "Why are you here, anyway? You never answered my question."

"Oh." He pauses for a second. Scorpius really doesn't like telling people about his writing; it feels too personal, too private, to share with anybody. He never writes for fun in front of anybody, and - like Lily - he hasn't told anyone, either. But after Lily shared her secret with him, it feels wrong to not return the favor. "I, er, wanted a quiet place to write."

"You write?" She sounds a bit surprised, but not in a bad way. "I wouldn't have expected that."

"I wouldn't have expected you to be into the Dark Arts," Scorpius retaliates, and Lily actually chuckles.

"Point taken," she says. "So what do you write?"

He hesitates again before speaking. "Poems, mostly...sometimes bits and pieces of short stories, but I'm not so great at actual plots." He can feel his cheeks burning, and he's thankful for the dim light. She probably can't see him blushing. "It's kind of my guilty pleasure, writing."

"So," she says, "am I the only one who knows?"

"Yeah."

She smiles. "Who would have thought?" she says. "I barely even know you, but we just told each other things we haven't told anyone else."

"Maybe that's why," Scorpius says. "We don't know each other well. There's not as many preconceived notions, y'know?"

"Damn," Lily says. "Getting a little deep, Malfoy?" She gestures over to the table with the lantern. "You can write here. Not much light, but it's better than just using your wand. I'll be right back." She disappears into the shelves again as Scorpius sits down, and a few seconds later she walks back out, carrying two thick tomes. "You mind?"

He can't help but smile at her. Maybe he doesn't always have to write alone, by himself, in stolen moments away from everybody. "Not at all," he says, reaching over and pulling out the other chair for her. She sets the books down on the table and sits down, just as Scorpius pulls out his notebook and pencils. For a while, they're both silent. The only noise Scorpius hears is his pencil scratching on the paper, and Lily turning the pages of her book.

Eventually, he can hear the page-turning stop, and he looks up to find her looking at him. "Let's do this again sometime," she says, and he nods. He had come here to be alone, but somehow, having Lily there was even better, and he can't totally decide why.

They both pack up their things a little while later, and head back to the Slytherin dormitories together, whispering about reading and writing and whatever else comes to mind.

He didn't expect to find anybody else there in the Restricted Section, but he's glad he did.