Author's Notes – Ahahaha, finally got Open Office on my non-internet computer. Yussss. Erm, well, I hope this chapter is OK enough; the last was tripe. Personally I've got mock GCSE's and my friends fucked up love lives to bear, but this is as much as I could muster. If you enjoy it, drop a review. Lord knows it would cheer me up. Oh, and to the lovely reviewer, they have spent far too much time eating! It stems from my obsession with food. :

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The next few weeks passed in a sort of haze for the fifth years. Classes had started to become serious, the preparation for their OWL's had already commenced, and even Rose Weasley appeared to be struggling a little. They all woke early and got to sleep late into the night, leaving just enough time for eating. The rest was padded out by homework; from dream diaries to star charts, and a rather nasty essay of the use of Unicorn derivatives in Potions. Their elderly yet irritatingly healthy Potions Master Professor Slughorn wasn't even letting them off, despite Al being one of his favourite pupils.

The only light feeling for the upper years in Slytherin was their success against Hufflepuff in the first Quiddtich match of the season, despite the fact their Seeker Logan Flint had sustained some pretty nasty injuries, mainly inflicted by one Hugo Weasley. Al wasn't entirely sure who to support; having cousins and siblings in every different house never did help him much. Of his relations, however, James and his Uncle Ron were the only ones who treated him differently, and that suited him just fine.

It was the last lesson of a sleepy late October afternoon, the sun outside the castle slowing descending casting long drawn out shadows across the grounds. Al was planted on his usual corner seat in Muggle Studies, listening to his overly enthusiastic Professor McHolne. The woman was seemingly fascinated mostly by Muggle cars; even going as far as to, she told them, collect garage full of different models. Al had soon realized that the way to excel in this subject was to mention that your dad owned a Porsche, something many of his friends in the class had to stifle laughs at.

He couldn't wait for dinner that day, having spent the remainder of his afternoon wasted in detention. Personally, Al didn't see much harm in charming a couple of suits of armour so that they spouted rambling declarations of love to whoever went by. His elderly Head of House Professor McGonagall, however, did. So he sat through two hours of arranging class notes for her Transfiguration lessons.

He met Scorpius outside McGonagall's office, who smirked at Al smugly as they walked along a deserted corridor.

"Fun times, Al?" He asked, "I've heard McGonagall's detentions can be a real hoot sometimes."

"Oh yeah, you missed out Scorp," Al muttered, "I need to sleep."

"Sure thing, partner." Scorpius replied, and then began the winding descent down to the Dungeon corridors.

- - -

Scorpius was up long before Al on Tuesday morning, despite the fact that he didn't have a class until after lunch. On one side he loved study leave; any old excuse to go sit in the library and read as many books as his eyes would allow. On the other hand he disliked it because on a Tuesday morning and Thursday afternoon it was only him. Al had classes, as did both Greg and Stefan. He occasionally sat with a bunch of Ravenclaws – house unity did come in useful sometimes, or Rose Weasley and her incessant Gryffindor pals. He never did quite get why Rose chose to hang out with a bunch of giggling Gryffindors.

Al was rolling about in his crumpled emerald duvet, one pale bare leg jutting out. Scorpius smirked at his friend, blissfully asleep and peaceful. He knew he should wake Al up – breakfast would be served any minute – but part of him was tempted to just leave his friend sleeping.

Al's foot twitched, toes curling. Scorpius set down his comb and scuttled over to his friends side. Slender fingers swept across Al's foot and –

"Nghh!" Al rolled over, eyes squinting at his friend, "Fuck off Scorp."

"Much obliged, dearest, but I was under the firm belief that you had Muggle Studies, do you not?"

"Hmpf," Al buried his face into the pillow, "Do I have to get up? Why aren't you going to class?"

"Ah, Ancient Runes my friend. Still, I have to do tomorrow afternoon, and Thursday. We share a study break on Friday though," He added cheerfully.

"I guess," Al mumbled, steadily propping himself up on the mahogany head board, "Breakfast?"

- - -

After breakfast Al made his way up to the Muggle Studies classroom while Scorpius opted for Hogwarts' library. By the tie he got there it was mainly empty, the few study tables inside holding only a couple of students at most. None of the Slytherin Fifth years were there; only Gryffindors and a couple of Ravenclaws.

"Scorpius!" He heard the excited voice of one Rose Weasley, and looked up to see her flailing an arm about in the air, grinning, "Come over here!"

Scorpius suppressed a high and went to join Rose and another Ravenclaw.

"Hey Scorp," She grinned, brushing frizzy ginger hair out of her eyes, "This is Max."

Scorpius recognised the boy next to her, a Fifth year Ravenclaw he and Al shared Care of Magical Creatures with. He grinned a little lopsidedly, and extended a hand, "Hey Scorp."

"Max," Scorpius replied curtly, sitting down and swinging his bag under the table, "No lessons?"

Max shook his shaggy ash blond hair, "Nah, me and Rosie don't have Arithmancy until this afternoon We've got it with you, haven't we?"

"Yeah," Scorpius grinned, "Excited?"

"Yes, I am actually," Rose exclaimed, "We're moving onto a new topic today, Professor Simíent said! I can't wait until we start the latter half of the OWL syllabus; it looks ever so complicated! Of course, I studied over the holidays, so I think I'm okay." She flushed, hanging her head as Scorpius and Max exchanged a light chuckle.

"Like you could fail anything Rosie," Max commented, ruffling her hair, "We'd better head off, actually. Sorry Scorp, but we've got things to do and people to see."

"It's fine," Scorpius put on a smile, though deep down he knew a little privacy would be quite welcome, "See you around. Max, Rose," He nodded in turn, then waved, still grinning, until Max and Rose were round the corner and out. Scorpius heaved a sigh, then slipped an arm under the table and hoisted his satchel up. At breakfast Scorpius had received the weekly letter from his parents, alongside a handsome, though a little pretentious, quill from his Grandfather. It was constructed of a beautiful, snow white peacock feather. Doubtless it would be ruined the moment the nib touched any ink, but Scorpius admired it all the same. Alongside it was the obligatory letter from his father – something slight unusual seeing as it was usually Asteria bombarding him with letters.

He slipped a finger underneath the seal and pulled the parchment out.

Scorpius,

As I'm sure you are fully aware, I have been promoted. No doubt your mother has informed you of that already, but I think it may be something to think about. I have been informed by a certain official that you and the Weasley girl are involved, so as to say. All the advice I can give you as a Malfoy is this – if you must marry a mudblood, I would have rather seen you opt for one of Potter's children.

Father

Scorpius spluttered as he read the end of the letter; Ministry officials spreading rumours about him? Did they honestly have nothing better to do than natter about each others children? Anyway, him and Rose. Scorpius had to stifle a chuckle – Rosie may have harboured a rather out in the open crush on him, but Scorpius was never one to reciprocate people's feelings for him.

He sighed again, readjusted his legs, and began to neatly construct a letter back, reassuring his father that him and "the Weasley girl" weren't involved, making sure to leave it free of traces of love and emotion. Of course, this was easily enough done. It's Malfoy spirit to keep your emotions under wraps.

- - -

Author's Notes – Oops, weird chapter. I feel the compulsion to write AN's, it's a thing I have with Hmppffff, I think all the spelling's right – but don't count on my proper use of comma's – I'm shite at English. Reviews are love!