"Once again, I'd like to press how serious an issue this is. Being that he's turned seventeen, he's lost the trace, which means we've got an even more difficult chance of finding him. As I'm aware, he had a few enemies at this school, but in such a drastic situation, I know you'll do what's right, and support those who need it."

I could swear the headmistress is staring straight at me. As though I don't feel guilty enough already! I mean, my last words to the bloke were, "You're a waste of sperm," and a nasty scowl! I feel myself blush and I stare at my plate.

Headmistress McGonagall continues her lecture from where she's standing in front of her seat in the Great Hall. "Once again, if you've heard any information pertaining to Mr. Malfoy's disappearance, please do not refrain from telling any member of the faculty. Thank you, and enjoy dinner."

As McGonagall sits down, I can't help but nervously run my fingers through my hair. Like I'll be able to eat, after that guilt speech! However, my traitorous salivary gland ruin my dramatic fast as soon as the shepherd's pie appears. I give myself a hearty helping, only to feel the eyes of my favorite cousin on me.

"What?" I ask him wearily.

Al just shakes his head slightly, his black hair swishing around a bit as he continues to stare at me. "Rose," he says, "How can you eat?"

I play dumb to the fact that he's referring to McGonagall's speech and reply, "Like this," and then shove a good spoonful of creamy potato-y goodness into my mouth.

But an arch of his eyebrow, and I know he's not buying it. I swallow hastily, and I can feel the shepherd's pie, hot in my esophagus.

"I know, Al. I feel awful," I confess, putting down my spoon. "But I don't know what to do. I mean, I can't sleep well, and I can't eat anything not loaded with starch, and whenever I complain, I worry that Malfoy's got it ten times worse somewhere, wherever he is." My face falls into my now-sweating palms.

"Rose, it'll okay. I mean, he's a big kid; he can handle himself," Al reassures me. Doubt still nags at my conscience.

"But where do you think he is? You were sort of friends with him, right?"

"Well, if you call occasionally acknowledging each other in the common room being friends, then-"

I interrupt him, my own worries busting through. "Al, what if he ran away and was kidnapped? What if some old man has him locked in a basement? Or- or what if the old man fed him to his carnivorous pygmy puff? What if he's been poisoned? Or killed? Or what if-"

Now it's Al's turn to interrupt me. "Rose, calm down. Why do you care so much? You've always hated him." Which is a good point, really. I hadn't thought much about that. Why do I care so much? Malfoy's always been a total arse to me. Now he's gone- and at first I was euphoric, sure, but now, I just feel like a terrible person. I mean, my victory dance may or may not have been offensive to the prick's devoted female followers or something.

Either way, I feel like shit. "I don't know, Al. It's just... I..." I pause for a moment, thinking. "I wouldn't wish any of those things on anyone, even my worst enemy."

Al rolls his eyes at me. "Why are you in Gryffindor when you're such an obvious Hufflepuff?"

"Why are you in Slytherin when you should be punched in the face?" I reply in half joking, half serious voice. Al just does that stupid smirk that Slytherins do sometimes (you know, that annoying one that really makes your ambition to punch them that much stronger?). It reminds me of Malfoy, which sobers me up right away.

"Oh, forget it, Al. I'm trying to be serious," I huff. "Really."

"I told you this before, Rose. He's probably just having a rich boy tantrum, and ran off to some fancy hotel somewhere. He'll be back within the week, I'm sure."

I don't tell Al this, but that doesn't really sound like what Scorpius would do. He'd be too proud to have a tantrum, in my opinion. In fact, if he ran off, it was probably to protect his pride or something equally stupid. But I don't say this to Al. How weird would it be if I knew more about my enemy/his housemate than he did?

"I guess so." And then I switch topics, because I don't want to think about it anymore, and I eat more guilty bites of shepherd's pie and crispy asparagus and a nice slice of ham. Finally, once I'm full and the conversation's dwindled, I say my goodnights to Al and leave the hall. And though I've suppressed it and distracted it all night long, the feeling of guilt is back, rising up from somewhere in my gut and into my throat.

Because, despite how ridiculous this sounds, I think I actually miss the guy.

Which is weird, because the last time we talked to each other, you wouldn't have guessed it.

I'm walking down the hall, minding my own business, when Malfoy, out of nowhere, announces, "Watch out, ladies and gentlemen. The Weasley she-devil's gotten loose."

Hilarious. Really. If only we weren't the only two people in the hallway to hear his witty remark.

I glower at him. "Honestly, Malfoy, don't you have anything better to do with your time?" I turn around and see him smirking at me.

"So you admit it, you're not worth my time?" He's standing right in front of me, and I notice I have to look up to meet his eye, he's so tall.

I cross my arms. "The other way around, actuallly," I reply, and begin walking away. But before I can leave, he catches my arm. His fingers feel like they're burning my skin.

"Not so fast, Weasley. Has anyone ever told you you're an incredibly impatient shrew?" And now the urge to hex him is so strong, I point my wand at him menacingly.

"How many times do I have to tell you to shove off?" I reply icily. His smirk grows a little.

"Wow, Weasley. You really are impatient."

Now my temper's really rising. Not only am I standing here being insulted, but he still won't let my arm go. For a moment, words explode in my head, until some manage to burst out. "And you're a waste of sperm!" I put on my signature scowl and jerk his arm away and storm out, leaving him standing there in the corridor.

I rub my temples. It's hard to think about without wanting to hit my head on the nearest desk. Why did I have to be such a bitch? Now he's gone and I feel like I've made some huge mistake or something. I mean, he's still my enemy, all the way, but I wish I knew where he was.

Maybe this is weird, but I almost feel like I'm missing, well, a part of me. That part your enemy is, you know. Nothing weird or sentimental, not at all... well, sort of. But it's been over a day since he's called me names or since I've hexed him or since he's tried to sabotage anything related to my grades. Which sounds like it'd be a wonderful time and all, but... it's odd. I can't shake the feeling that things aren't right.

But what can I do? I have no idea why he disappeared. Was he kidnapped? Did he run away? Who knows?

I pace the common room for a while, wondering about what I could do. I've still got nothing. Did he have any friends who might know where he is? Did he keep a journal? Write a letter to his dorm mates about how long he'd be gone?

I tell myself I'll try to find out tomorrow, and as I yawn, I decide it's time for bed.

But even as I brush my teeth, or slip under the covers of my bed, my mind won't stop thinking and thinking. Because, what if I'm to blame for his disappearance? What then? Maybe if he dies, I'll get expelled or something. That would be awful. Well, okay, mostly the dying thing, but still! Nobody will hire a girl who was expelled from Hogwarts! I don't want to get in trouble, and I really do want him to be okay, I admit. Because what am I without an enemy? I'm like half of a circle. Incomplete.

I fall asleep a couple hours later, the last thought in my head about his hand on my arm, and I wake up early, after a restless sleep. I check my clock; 4:42.

I try for another hour or so to fall back asleep, but it's no use.

Even in a steaming shower, my thoughts drift back to the night Malfoy disappeared. And even at breakfast. I'm thankful it's Saturday, because I know that if I had classes, I wouldn't be able to focus at all. The thoughts don't leave me in the library; at lunch; at Quidditch practice. Flying may be the worst of all. It's about the only thing I can think of while I'm sitting on my broom, chasing after the quaffle.

Our captain, Elle Finnegan, is shouting commands and plays and so on. She yells something to me, but I can't quite understand, and then I see something out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly something hits me in the head.

"Oh, bludger," I mutter, before everything goes black.

I wake up however later in the Hospital Wing with an epiphany.

How stupid am I? I wonder about this as my eyes open. How could I not have thought of it before?

"Rose! Rose, you're awake!" says Hugo.

I stand up, ignoring the ringing in my ears and the throbbing in my head. It's not as bad as some of my worst hangovers, really. "'Scuse me, Hugo. I've got to go pack." I start walking out.

Hugo stares at me, wide eyed. "Oh no! She's delusional! Somebody get Madame Richards!" he calls to no one in particular.

"Hugo, what time is it?" I ask, wobbling a little on my feet from the lightheadedness.

He looks at his watch. "Eleven sixteen. Why do you want to know? You really shouldn't be in a rush to be anywhere."

I give him a look. "And yet, I am. Bye, Hugo." And I surprise him with a hug, because I don't know when I'm going to see him again. Who knows how long my plan is gonna take?

Because I'm going to find Malfoy, if it's the last thing I do.

And I sure hope it's not.

A/N So... what do you think? Once we kick start Rose's little idea, this'll be full of her zany adventures, out in the world! I don't know. The idea just came to me the other day, along with some other angsty ideas, so I decided to write this one. Because it's more fun, see?

So be nice and review! (The review doesn't have to be nice. Just reviewing is enough for me!)

xx

Ali