Trademark Harry Potter characters, locations, and ideas are the sole property of Ms. JK Rowling – I'm just taking them for a spin!

Okay, the plot bunny went a little crazy with this one. The idea hit me out of nowhere and I couldn't rest until I got it all down on paper. It was supposed to be a one shot but it got way too long to contain in a single post, so I split it into two parts. Feedback is always appreciated, but I had an absolute blast writing it and I hope you all enjoy reading!

000

It's easy to fall in love
When you fall in love you know you're done
You got easy eyes to hunt
And the world above needs your blood
In the cold veins of the richest man
He'll pay your way to steal her hand

"Ain't No Easy Way" – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Master Plan

Part One

" – so like I told Emily, there's no way I can convince Albus to let her try out as a Beater, not after what happened last year. I'm pretty sure Luke still has a scar on his face from – well, you were there for that match, I'm sure you remember perfectly well how that went. She's not that big, but Em's got a mean right arm, I swear. Don't know where she gets it from."

She finally paused for breath – she being sixteen-year-old Rose Weasley, one of Hogwarts' top students (second only to her gifted younger brother Hugo), prefect, beloved niece of the famous Boy Who Lived – and Scorpius Malfoy – also sixteen, also a top student and prefect – allowed himself a thin smirk.

Which she failed to notice, because it was dark and because she had already resumed her monologue about . . . well, he wasn't quite sure anymore. He had more or less stopped paying attention after the first five minutes of their patrol, though his silence only seemed to encourage her to keep going. And going. And going.

"But then she got all weepy-eyed and gave me that look she has – you know the one? Well, probably not, I don't think you two have ever actually – anyway, she pulled that on me and I couldn't just . . . you know, leave it at that, especially since I still owe her for lending me twelve sickles to buy a new hairbrush after Lily ruined my last one with those stupid knots in her hair. I know she's an incurable tomboy, which I normally love, but I swear, I was about this close to chopping off every last strand on her head so I could use them to knit her a bloody scarf. Or something. Anyway, what was I even talking about? Oh! Yeah, so I told Em I'd discuss Quidditch tryouts with Al –"

"You talk a lot when you're nervous," he finally said, cutting in with practiced ease.

Her head whipped around to fix him with a bewildered look. "What? No I don't. And I'm not nervous. That's ridiculous, there's nothing to be nervous about. Why would I be nervous?"

Scorpius gave her a sidelong glance. "Because you're patrolling near the Forbidden Forest," he intoned ominously. "At night. Alone. With me."

She talked a lot in general, actually. He supposed it was just part of her charm, the way his was apparently the 'mysterious loner' type. He hadn't intended to fill that role, of course, having never been fond of clichés, but he was rather solitary for the most part, rarely speaking up class or participating in . . . anything, really. He actually didn't mind the label anymore. As it turns out, girls couldn't seem to get enough of it, especially after that unexpected growth spurt back in Fourth Year and his decision to let his hair grow out. Sure, they were mostly either afraid of him – indeed, that was probably part of the lure – or disgusted with themselves for stooping so low as to associate with a Malfoy. Thus his relationships tended to resemble little more than hushed, secretive flings that the girls would later deny ever happened.

It seemed, however, that there was a chatty, freckled, pretty little redheaded exception to the rule. One who had never exhibited any of the usual signs of interest, infatuation, fear, or disgust, but who already seemed comfortable enough in his presence to suggest that maybe, with time and persistence, he could . . . persuade her to see more in him than did the other girls.

But Malfoys are notoriously impatient.

"Right, how could I forget?" she snorted, though she accompanied it with a smile. "I'm almost positive I can hear Al and my brother stalking us as we speak. When I told them I'd be making rounds with you tonight instead of Tereasa, Hugh insisted that I take along a string of garlic to 'ward you off'. His words, not mine. Apparently you're Hogwarts' very own vampire."

He shot her a quizzical look. "He does realize that I walk around during the day, right? Most vampires tend not to do that. You know, because of the whole 'burst into flames and die a horrible, agonizing death' thing."

"He's convinced you've found a way around that little rule," she wryly informed him.

This time he let out a small laugh – or at least, his minimal version of it. "That must be why he hissed 'Daywalker!' at me in the hallway this morning. I wondered what that was all about."

Rose laughed too, albeit somewhat sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. His imagination tends to run away on him, sometimes. A lot, actually. I keep waiting for him to outgrow it, but he's fourteen now and if anything it's just getting worse."

"That's the burden of genius," he reminded her with a fluid shrug. "It comes with a price."

"Insanity?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say it. But yeah, insanity."

She laughed again, and he wondered if it was always this easy to amuse her or if she was just grateful for the distraction. Not for the first time, he caught her pulling her stylish blue poncho a little more tightly around herself, though it was barely mid October and the nights weren't all that cold yet. He hadn't bothered with anything heavier than a grey jumper with a long sleeved shirt underneath and a pair of black slacks. Growing up in a drafty old manor house meant that the cold had never really bothered him. They were technically supposed to be wearing their school robes, since they were on 'duty', but few professors saw the need to enforce this particular rule with any real urgency after hours.

His eyes drifted past her wavy mop of red hair, landing on the line of tall black trees not twenty yards to their right. The name 'Forbidden Forest' was no coincidence, and it wasn't completely unheard of for some of its bolder residents to venture onto school grounds from time to time. Despite various wards set up to keep them at bay, students have, in the past, come face to face with a few nasties. Fortunately such incidents hadn't happened in a number of years, but really, one could never be too careful.

Her sudden shiver brought his eyes swiftly back down to her, noting with vague surprise that they were already near Hagrid's hut. No lights flickered in the windows, as the giant gamekeeper – now well into his old age, his beard almost completely laced through with grey – had taken to going to bed earlier in the evenings.

"I wish I hadn't gone and lost my bloody wand," she grumbled, folding her arms over her chest. "This place is creepy at night, especially with the full moon."

"Does that happen often?"

"What, the full moon?" she spluttered incredulously.

"Losing things," he amended, a slanted grin flickering across his face.

Rose smiled ruefully. "Only all the time. But I'm usually pretty good about keeping my wand close at hand. I've only misplaced it a few times that I can remember, and never before a night patrol near the Forbidden Forest. I mean, of all places, really."

"Are you actually that worried? Nothing exciting ever happens around here," Scorpius remarked, sounding almost sullen about it.

Rose scoffed. "I don't think getting mauled by a blood-sucking bugbear is really anyone's idea of 'exciting'."

"And I always thought you Gryffindors are supposed to be brave," he drawled, fighting to keep from smiling at the affronted look she gave him.

"Being brave and having a death wish are two completely different things," she retorted, though he could see her mouth twitching rebelliously towards a grin of her own. "Anyway, I thought Slytherins are . . . you know, selective about courting danger."

"We are," he assured her. Then, with a decidedly wicked gleam in his eye, he leaned a bit more towards her and added, "Unless, of course, the payoff is worth the risk."

Something about the way he said that last part made her glance his way again and regard him a great deal more closely than before. She opened her mouth to reply, before suddenly halting in mid step and whirling around to stare at something beyond Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

Scorpius stopped as well. "What is it?"

"I just," she began, then paused. She took a step towards the tree line and squinted through the gloom. "I thought I heard something."

"Like what?" he asked, coming to stand next to her with his wand held aloft for more light.

"I'm not sure. Sounded like . . . breathing."

He gave her a somewhat smug look. "Right. Very funny." The smugness faltered a little at the entirely serious expression on her face. "You're . . . not being funny, are you."

Frowning and shrugging a little, she said, "It was probably nothing." She still wasn't moving, however, and stayed peering through the trees with lingering unease.

"Best we move on then," Scorpius suggested, clearing his throat.

"Yeah," she replied absently. This time she did actually turn back to resume walking next to him, but she threw another glance over her shoulder as she went. "But I could have sworn I –"

She cut herself off, and this time Scorpius whirled around as well to stare at the looming trees. "All right," he said, "I heard it that time too."

For a moment Rose stood absolutely still, before she drew herself up and called, "Al, Hugo, if this is your idea of a joke, it is seriously not funny and don't think I won't dock Gryffindor points for this!"

In the trees, the breathing abruptly went still.

"I-I mean it," Rose went on, with somewhat less bravado. "Detention as well . . ."

She was answered by a low throaty growl.

"And . . . and I'll write Mum and Aunt Gin about it . . ."

Scorpius reached out to grab her arm and began slowly backing up. "Whatever it is," he said, "it's getting closer."

"There are wards," she whispered back, sounding almost desperate. "There are bloody wards all over the school, nothing can get past them that doesn't belong – oh God."

Scorpius stopped dead in his tracks and gaped at the werewolf emerging through the tree line, no more than twenty yards away.

It appeared in one powerful leap out into the open, landing on its gangly legs with surprising grace. Huge, black or grey in colour – impossible to tell in the dark – its shoulders were hunched forward with a purpose, its upper canines long enough to protrude almost below its bottom jaw. The beast slowly padded to the side with its head low to the ground in an unmistakably predatory fashion. Trying to circle them, moving gradually but deliberately in a wide arc, its pale eyes fixed unblinkingly on the stricken prefects.

"The wards," Rose said again, her voice coming out in a high whisper. "Th-they should . . . sense it. Someone will sense it and come for us."

Scorpius shook his head once, sharply. "Not soon enough," he said through tight lips. He then looked down and realized vacantly that now it was she holding him fast, fingers digging painfully into his arm.

The werewolf's thick pink tongue ran over its fangs as it drew closer.

"What happens if we run?" Scorpius murmured out the side of his mouth, never once blinking or tearing his gaze away from the advancing creature. But of course, he knew the answer to that already.

"It'll charge," Rose replied shakily. She didn't need to bother adding and we've got only one wand and no cover.

Scorpius licked his lips, unwittingly copying the wolf's previous gesture, and stepped forward with his wand held out ahead.

Rose was so surprised that her grip fell away from his arm almost immediately. She lashed out to grab him again but he was already out of reach, and she seemed unable or willing to actually move from her spot to go after him.

The wolf paused and lifted its head, nosing the air to catch Scorpius' scent.

"What are you doing?" Rose hissed.

"We can't run, you said it yourself," he replied in a surprisingly steady tone. "And we sure as hell can't stare at it all night."

"So just what the hell are you planning to do, exactly?"

The wolf was no longer attempting to circle them, and was now gazing directly at the young man with clear intent in its eyes. It knew a confrontation when it saw one, and seemed eager to answer it.

Scorpius actually shrugged. "I don't know. Show it who's in charge? Isn't that how you deal with disobedient dogs?"

Behind him, he could almost hear her grappling with the urge to stomp her foot. "This isn't some bloody pissed off poodle in case you hadn't fucking noticed!"

Her outburst triggered in the werewolf a sudden, almost supernaturally fast lunge forward, rapidly closing the gap between itself and Scorpius. Its wide paws tore noiselessly through the grass, sending up a rain of soil along the way.

Rose shrieked reflexively, but Scorpius remained where he was and shouted, "Impedimenta", jabbing his wand forward in one smooth thrust.

The beast lurched to an awkward but immediate halt, stumbling forward as its forelegs suddenly locked up while the back legs kept going. It nosedived into the dirt with a muted grunt, followed by a furious growl as it tried to stand up once more. Its front legs, however, remained paralyzed and seemingly frozen to the ground.

"There," Scorpius declared, lowering his wand and turning around to smirk at Rose. "That wasn't so –" His eyes widened and his wand slashed upwards again. "DOWN!"

Her knees seemed to give out beneath her much like the werewolf's. She instantly dropped and rolled to the side, narrowly missing the massive swinging claws of the second wolf that had materialized behind her without a sound. Instead it snagged her poncho and tore it clean off, as though it was nothing more than tissue paper.

Scorpius didn't even have time to utter an incantation, but his wand reacted with a will of its own. The beast rearing over Rose released a howl of pain as it was knocked several meters backward, thrown by some invisible concussion of energy that tangibly rippled the air.

Rose scrambled upright and dashed to Scorpius' side, where he stood breathless and pale in wonderment at his own power. He had never performed wandless magic like that before, not with such speed and force.

The second werewolf was already lumbering to its feet, teeth bared in rage. Hackles bristling, it leered at them and began taking measured, deliberate steps forward.

"Hagrid," Rose exclaimed suddenly, as though the thought struck her like lightening. She and Scorpius immediately began inching their way towards the half-giant's cabin, when yet another wolf loped into sight from around the side of the building and came to a skittering halt directly between them and the front door. This one was somewhat smaller than the first two, but trembled with barely-restrained energy and an obvious lust for the hunt now taking place. It eyed the two humans with fierce anticipation, occasionally darting a glance at its two companions to gage their positions.

"Merlin," Rose quailed, hastily backing up, "three of them?"

"An actual pack," Scorpius remarked, sounding almost intrigued. "They don't normally hunt humans, do they? At least not for food . . ." He trailed off a little and allowed the unspoken words to settle in the air between them. This is for fun, not survival. Perhaps the first two were teaching the little one about hunting, or initiating it somehow.

Rose paled a little. "What the hell are they even doing this close to the castle? The wards –"

"Forget the fucking wards, will you?" he snapped, glancing hastily over his shoulder to see if the first wolf had recovered. Sure enough, it was lurching upright again and seemed to be gaining mobility in its front legs.

"Shit," Rose uttered, "shit, shit, shit – run!"

"Run? I thought you said –"

"I KNOW WHAT I BLOODY SAID JUST RUN YOU IDIOT!" She was already bolting, heading – of all places – into the Forbidden Forest.

Part Two coming soon!