A/N: This is another new multi-chapter story. Harry Potter got the most votes in my poll, so I started this Next Generation story. I have the first three chapters written, but only this first one typed so far. The next couple chapters should be coming along soon. Enjoy. R&R! Thanks! -Mac

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

One

Rose Weasley is her mother's daughter, they say.

Rose is brilliant. Rose is an eager student, the ideal student, who gets the highest marks and never passes on an opportunity to learn something new. She is the only student that spends more time in the library than any other part of the castle. Rose is the most well behaved of the Weasley-Potter brood—the one worthy of the honor of Prefect and Head Girl. Rose is a rule follower. Rose is by the book. Rose is predictable. Rose is a do-good-or-do-not-do-at-all. Rose is the picture of perfection.

To her parents, Rose is the perfect daughter. Rose is innocent, naïve to the ways of the world. Rose is obedient. She is trustworthy and honest. She is the one that can be trusted to take care of her brother and cousins. She is the one that will keep the others in line. Rose is the daughter that her parents dreamed of. Rose is the one who can do no wrong. Rose is the best they could have asked for.

To her cousins and brother, Rose is the best of them. Rose is the mastermind. Rose is the reason they've never been caught in a prank. Rose is the leader that keeps them from going too far. Rose is loyal. She is committed. Rose is the one that would never break. She is the one that would never name names. She is the perfect confidant and friend. She is the secret keeper. She is the one that that knows all. Rose is the perfect ruse, the perfect disguise for their operations. Rose is one of them, despite what everyone else may think.

Rose is a lot of things to a lot of different people. Rose is an amalgamation. Rose Weasley is the way the world sees her, and Rose is the only one who doesn't know who Rose is.

o-O-o

Rose Weasley stifled a yawn as she pulled another book off the stack in front of her and turned to the page she had marked. She had lost track of how long she had been in the library. Night had fallen long before and she could see the stars through the window her table was situated next to. Her own work, an essay on Advanced Dueling Techniques for Defense Against the Dark Arts, had been done hours before, but Albus had requested that she look over his and his had been two inches short. She had taken time to duplicate his handwriting to add enough to get him to an adequate length. Now that his essay was done, she was checking Lily's Ancient Runes assignment. It was shaping up to be a long night.

The runes on the page in front of her blurred as her eyes watered from a second yawn. Rose wiped at her eyes and pushed some hair out of her face that had fallen from her hastily tied bun. All of her cousins and her brother were probably asleep in their beds and here she was still in the library working on their assignments. She knew she didn't have it that bad, at least her cousins did their work first—or at least most of it—before passing it off to Rose. Rose had heard stories from her mother about how many times her father and Uncle Harry has slacked off on assignments only to come pleading to Hermione for her assistance the night before they were due. Honestly, it was only Friday. The assignments weren't due until Monday. Rose had made the choice to finish all the work before the weekend. A choice she generally made because her brother or another cousin almost always turned up for help Sunday afternoon, surprised by a forgotten assignment and it was better to be prepared with an empty plate.

A third yawn escaped her lips just before the sound of footsteps startled her from her sleepy haze. On alert, Rose turned toward the direction the sound was coming from. She tried to focus on the shadows that covered the front of the library, but she could distinguish no shapes or figures. Then suddenly, from around a shelf, a blonde head emerged into the circle of light her lamp emitted. Rose let out her held breath, reassured, and turned back to the book she was reviewing. It was only Scorpius Malfoy.

"Rose Weasley," Scorpius said. "What are you doing here?"

"Reading," Rose answered, rolling her eyes. "It is the library, after all."

Scorpius looked around him, blinking rapidly as if trying to focus, "Is that right? The library, huh."

Rose frowned, "Scorpius, have you been drinking?"

"There's a, uh, party going on in the Slytherin common room," Scorpius said, "The punch was…I've had…yes."

"Figures," Rose focused on Lilly's assignment, making a small correction on one of the runes. "Is there a reason you're here and not there?"

"Of course there is," Scorpius nodded, "I just can't remember at the moment."

"Maybe you should head back then."

"I should," Scorpius said. "I'll go then."

"Alright then. Goodnight, Scorpius," Rose said. She had her head down over Lily's parchment and did not look up to watch Scorpius leave.

The sound of the chair across the table from her being pulled out caught her attention. She looked up as Scorpius sat across from her. He was still in uniform and he arranged the robes around him. His tie was loose and he pulled on it, slipping the knot out and leaving it limp around his neck. Rose watched him with a frown on her face, waiting for him to speak up and hoping his intrusion would be short-lived.

"Why aren't we friends, Rose?" Scorpius asked.

"Is that a serious question?" Rose returned.

"I wouldn't have asked it if—"

"—you weren't drinking—"

"—it wasn't serious."

Rose sighed, "If I answer, will you leave me alone and go back to your party?"

Scorpius just stared at her.

"There's no reason we're not friends, we just aren't," Rose said. "We don't run in the same circles. We don't have the same friends. The only thing we have between us is our run for the top of the class."

"Yes, by the way, what is that about?" Scorpius pointed at her. "Is it your personal mission to beat me at everything or something? Because it's bloody annoying. Everything, just everything. Even Quidditch, which is ridiculous because from what I've heard your mum is terrified of flying and your father could barely handle himself on a broom, so you're…you're just astounding really."

"You shouldn't trust all of your father's stories about my parents," Rose replied, trying to ignore the last statement that left Scorpius's mouth so the blush she feels coming on won't show.

"I didn't hear that from my father. I heard it from your brother," Scorpius corrected. "Okay, so the part about your father, that was my father. He doesn't much like that your family populated the team that bested his every year, but he tells the stories with a kind of nostalgic affection if you can believe it."

"I don't."

Scorpius shrugged, "But the part about your mum was from Hugo. When he gets a few drinks in him, he likes to regail anyone who will listen—and even those who don't want to—with tales of Weasley home-life."

"When exactly have you been around Hugo when he's drinking?" Rose scowled. "Hugo doesn't drink. My mum would skin him alive."

"Do I know something that the brilliant Rose Weasley doesn't?" Scorpius smirked, looking way too proud of himself for Rose's taste. "As a matter of fact, Miss Weasley, Hugo is down in the dungeons burning through a bottle of Firewhiskey with all the evil Slytherins. All of your cousins are too, by the way, so you can throw out that 'we don't run in the same circles' excuse. I've actually become good pals with a good number of them. Albus in particular, he's a good bloke. Awful name, poor boy, but I'm not one to talk, am I? Scorpius, eh, it's the only name I got. Have to live with it, don't I?"

"Will you shut up?" Rose breathed. "You're joking, right? Pulling my leg? Having a laugh?"

"No," Scorpius frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"You mean to tell me that everyone else in my family is drinking at a party in the Slytherin dorm while I'm here working on their assignments?" Rose said.

"Yes," Scorpius nodded after a moment to process all she had said. Then he raised a finger to halt the next words that were about to leave Rose's mouth, and began to fumble around in his robes, "However, you don't have to be."

"What are you doing, Scorpius?" Rose asked.

"We should be friends, Rose," Scorpius replied, still searching for something in his robes. "And friends, they drink together."

"What are you looking for?"

"My flask," Scorpius exclaimed. "I always keep it in my robes, but it's nowhere to be found."

"Could it be because those aren't your robes?" Rose raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Those aren't your robes."

"Don't be thick. Of course they're my robes. I'm wearing them, aren't I?" Scorpius scoffed.

"Unless you've suddenly become a Ravenclaw, I would have to beg to differ," Rose said. She tapped her robes where the Gryffindor crest was emblazoned.

Scorpius looked down and pulled the robes out so he could see the blue Ravenclaw crest embroidered on them. "Bloody hell, I wonder how that happened."

"Must be a wild party," Rose replied.

Scorpius laughed, "Yes, very much so."

"Well then, as Head Girl, I believe it is my duty to break it up and collect my brother and cousins before a Professor gets wind of it and they all get expelled," Rose said as she stood. She closed the book and began to collect her things into her school bag.

"No!" Scorpius exclaimed, standing as well. "I mean, don't do that. No one is going to get expelled. Detentions, maybe. A lot of detentions, most likely. Think about it. Do you really want to be the one who spoils their fun? Is that the Rose Weasley you want to be?"

"Isn't that the Rose Weasley you think I am?" Rose countered, walking around the table and making to pass by Scorpius.

Scorpius side stepped, blocking her path. "I don't think anything. I don't know you well enough to think one way or the other." Rose tried to step around Scorpius again, but he matched her movement to block her way again. "So why don't you tell me? Who are you, Rose Weasley?"

Rose froze in the middle of a third attempt to pass Scorpius. "Excuse me?"

"Who are you, Rose?" Scorpius asked again. "Who do you want to be?"

"I—" Rose stammered. "That's not any of your business. We're not friends, remember?"

"And I just said we should be, if you remember," Scorpius responded. "So let's be friends. Come down to the party with me. You can check on your cousins and your brother, I'll get you that drink I offered, we'll find the robes that actually belong to me, and you can tell me about yourself."

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," Rose shook her head. "I'm exhausted. I should go straight to bed. Besides, you've been drinking. I think I would take you more seriously if you were sober."

"Alright," Scorpius waved his hand toward the front of the library and slid aside to let Rose pass. "Fair enough. After you Rose."

"Thank you," Rose said. She hiked the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder and walked around him.

Scorpius turned and followed Rose out of the library, "Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

Rose stopped just outside the door to the library, the spot where they could either leave together or part ways. "Goodnight Scorpius."

Scorpius nodded and began to back away down the hall that would lead him toward the dungeons. "Goodnight, Rose."

Rose remained where she stood and watched as Scorpius turned and walked away. There was a part of Rose that wanted to go with him. As out of character it would have been for her to go to a party and drink with Scorpius Malfoy, what he had offered had sounded fun. After seven years of a quiet, casual, surface level acquaintance based only on the fact that they were classmates, Scorpius's offer of friendship was not only surprising but also intriguing. Rose would have gone with him, if only to see where it led, even if it led nowhere at all, but then he asked that question. No one asked Rose that question for no other reason but that they all assumed they already knew the answer. Rose liked it that way. As innocent as that question was, she didn't want to be asked it. She didn't want to be asked, because she didn't know the answer.

Who are you, Rose Weasley?