"Damn it!" Scorpius Malfoy swore under his breath as he managed to regain his balance. The burly seventh year Ravenclaw, who had purposely bumped him, merely sneered, as if daring Scorpius to retaliate. But they both knew better. Scorpius resigned himself to scowling at said seventh year (who he recognized as one of the Ravenclaw beaters) before returning his gaze to the floor as he attempted to get through the crowded hallway as quickly as possible.

With relief, he reached the Transfiguration classroom without any other incidents above a few pointed glares. This meant he had been able to make it to class with time to spare, unlike so many other occasions when he had to sprint to make up for time wasted from other students trying to pick a fight.

He slid into an empty desk towards the back on the Slytherin side of the classroom and hunched himself over his completed essay, scanning it once again to check for errors. The ambient noise of the room rose gradually, yet it seemed to wash over Scorpius, as if he was protected by an invisible bubble he had stooped himself into.

Then, as Professor Blackhurst walked to the front of the class, Scorpius automatically snapped to attention, shifting his essay to the side and getting his quill ready to take notes.

He diligently took careful notes, listening determinedly to Professor Blackhurst explain the theory and history of human transfiguration. Scorpius looked up from his parchment notebook a couple of times (only to copy down the diagrams on the blackboard), but otherwise he kept his gaze fixedly on what was in his immediate vicinity.

"Miss. Weasley! Mr. Potter!"

Scorpius was jolted out of his familiar reverie as he looked at something besides his notes and the blackboard for the first time in the lesson. He saw Rose Weasley and Albus Potter, flushing guiltily, hastily trying to compose their faces into those of rapt attention. Scorpius snorted quietly to himself before deciding to take advantage of the pause in the lecture to perfect his copied-down drawings of important wand movements. He could still hear Professor Blackhurst's stern scolding of the two Gryffindor sixth years.

"Since you two seem to think you don't need to pay attention, why don't you tell me what Galdwing said about the limitation of spell-induced human transfiguration in comparison to animagus transformations?" asked Blackhurst, raising her eyebrow as she stared Potter and Weasley.

Scorpius knew the answer. He had written it down from the lecture just a minute ago, but had also read about it the other week. He looked over at the two again to see if either of them knew, although he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

Sure enough, Potter shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable and ashamed. However, Weasley, her face still slightly red, stared determinedly back at Blackhurst, as she said calmly, "Galdwing stated that while both have significant limits, spell-induced transfiguration have more complex ones as the human body needs to adjust to the new transformation each time as the transformation can vary in effect, type, and extent. Animagus transformations do not have these limits as the subject's body does not need to adapt for each transformation. The subject's body in fact grows more in tune with said transformation because the subject develops a more concrete connection with their animal form as it is a consistent and stable form every time."

Blackhurst looking begrudgingly impressed as she tightened her lips. Scorpius could swear he saw a hint of amusement in her face as she said, "Indeed. In other circumstances, that would've merited 10 points for Gryffindor. So pay better attention in the future, especially you Mr. Potter."

Potter sputtered somewhat indignantly as Blackhurst returned to her lecture. Scorpius saw Weasley roll her eyes at Potter's embarrassment before elbowing him to pick up his quill for notes.

At that moment, Weasley quickly swung her gaze around the room, as if making sure people had stopped staring at her and Potter. He guessed she was good at detecting whether others were gawking at her or not, seeing as who her parents and uncles were. This thought had distracted him momentarily so that when her blue eyes met his, he was unprepared to react in his usual manner.

For the past six years, he had steadfastly avoided the Weasley/Potter clan. When he had first started Hogwarts, most of them had already started with the oldest of the cousins as a seventh year already. They dominated the Gryffindor house, Quidditch team, and dining table in the Great Hall. Ignoring them was a formidable task, but Scorpius had been up for it.

Growing up, his parents had always been just his parents. Little things he had noticed back then, such as how his father's jaw tightened when they walked through Diagon Alley and how his parents disliked going to Malfoy Manor so much (they only went to visit Scorpius' grandparents), had seemed inconsequential and not worth much thought.

When he turned ten however, the three of them had gone on one of their rare outings for dinner. They were in a new Wizarding restaurant and as Scorpius had sat there, he noticed that his father looked incredibly uncomfortable and that his mother seemed to be acting more affectionate to his father than usual. Not that she wasn't an affectionate person, but she seemed to be trying to comfort and reassure his father as she grasped his hand and whispered in his ear. Scorpius, trying to learn why his parents were acting like this, looked around the busy restaurant.

He saw their waitress staring at them as she talked to her fellow waiter. He saw those at the tables nearest them giving his father scathing looks as the men fingered their wands. He saw two little kids jabbering to their parents and pointing at his family.

And for the first time, Scorpius noticed that his family was different.

When they got back to home, Draco had walked straight into his office and shut the door. Astoria sighed and turned to him.

"I'm sorry Scorpius, but I'm going to make sure Dad's okay, alright?" she asked gently.

He nodded, knowing his Dad was upset about the dinner.

"Thanks love," she said, kissing him on the cheek before walking to the office. He heard her knock and open the door, softly calling his father's name before she entered.

Later that night, his father walked into his room. Instead of the usual light-hearted good night and joking, Draco had had a serious and sad demeanor about him. Before Scopius could ask about it, Draco said, "There are some things I have to tell you, Scorpius. Things about how I grew up and who your grandparents were. And what happened during the war. I know you'll have a lot of questions, but please don't ask them until I'm done."

Then his father proceeded to tell him about the family's involvement and support for Lord Voldemort in both wizarding wars. When he was finished, his father seemed scared of meeting his gaze as he said somewhat nervously and hurridely, "I understand if you are angry with me or ashamed, but I want you to know that I don't believe those things anymore. I know what I did was wrong and I regret it. But I don't regret having you or your mother, even though you two deserve much better than the lives you live because of me."

At the time, he hadn't fully understood what his father meant with that last sentence. Until he went to Hogwarts. The bullying was bearable but still difficult to deal with every day as it wore on. Even the other Slytherins seemed slightly wary of him, unsure of what to make of him. The other houses never hid their contempt for him and his family very well. He had therefore tried to keep to himself most of the time.

And he had made it a point to never interact with the Weasleys if possible, knowing the history his relatives had with all their parents. And for five full years, he had succeeded. He never bothered them and they never gave him trouble. Or noticed him really.

This all came crashing to a head as Rose Weasley made eye contact with him in the Transfiguration classroom that morning. In situations like this, he would've have quickly looked away and pretended to be preoccupied with something else.

However, she had caught him by surprise and he could do nothing but gaze stupidly back at her with a blank look on his face.

Bloody hell. He probably looked like an idiot.

She looked back at him, slightly shocked but didn't look away either. She narrowed her eyes slightly, as if she were examining him.

Indignation and anger erupted in him.

Who was she to be scrutinizing him like that? It wasn't like he had been making fun of her or checking out her arse. He'd never given her or her family any grief or any reason to pay him any mind. And he preferred it that way. And now she was looking at him so intently and he didn't know what that look meant for him. Now he was terrified that everything would change. The taunts and bullying he had had to deal with were bad enough. He did not want to know what the Weasleys and Potters would do to him if they decided he needed attending to.

In retaliation and anger, he stared right back at her, swooping over her face as unflinchingly as he dared. It hit him then that this was the first time he had really looked at her past a cursory glance. He had already known she had curly, reddish hair and was of average height, but that was it. But now, given the opportunity, he noticed the little things that he hadn't before.

Her eyes were wide and bright blue, offset by dark lashes. She had freckles indiscriminately scattered across her face, which was neither exceptionally fair nor tan. There wasn't much to say about her nose, other than the fact that it seemed normal enough. Her mouth was currently pursed in a contemplative, lopsided way. Her hair, he realized, was not red. But more of a dark, reddish brown. Auburn, he guessed it was called. It fell in lazy waves around her oval face. He drew his gaze back, to look at her face in its entirety after scrutinizing its individual parts. Her cobalt eyes were still focused on his greenish grey ones. Although he hadn't noticed before, he was hit by the realization that Rose Weasley was a bit of a looker.

She wasn't overwhelmingly beautiful, but she was pretty. Definitely someone worth a second look. And now part of him regretted never giving her a second look, even if it had been done to avoid getting beat up by her male cousins or creatively hexed by the female ones.

Suddenly, with a bolt of fear and frustration igniting through him, he realized that he was in the middle of class and, instead of paying attention, he had been blatantly looking at Rose Weasley, something he had striven to avoid at all costs. Cursing himself for screwing up so badly, he returned his gaze to his neglected notes and readjusted his sitting. His arse was getting sore.

— — —

In a desperate effort to fix his mistake in Transfiguration, Scorpius put a supreme amount of work into not looking at Rose Weasley, not walking close to Rose Weasley, not even acknowledging Rose Weasley. And by extension, not acknowledging her vast family. It was bloody hard.

The only downside to this was that he still didn't know what she had meant by staring back at him in class. And he wasn't stupid to think that she hadn't noticed his staring in turn, so he was also left in the dark on what she thought he had been doing. Was she offended? Angry? Ashamed of being looked at so intently by a Malfoy? Seeking revenge right now by plotting against him with her older cousins James Potter and Fred Weasley? The two seventh years were not only on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but also were incredibly renown for their expertise in pranking and catastrophe. Shit. He was screwed.

He sat near the end of the Slytherin table, discreetly filling his plate with dinner. Damian Nott, his cousin, also a sixth year Slytherin, sat next to him. They nodded at each other before returning their attentions to their dinner plates and eating more or less in silence.

The two were close and similar in personality: polite and smart, but quiet and thoughtful- preferring the background rather than the spotlight (in the similar vein as Damian's father during his Hogwarts days and in complete contrast to how Scorpius' had been). They didn't talk much. Not because they couldn't find anything to talk about, but because they didn't need to talk to understand each other or appreciate one another's company. Unfortunately, now that they were in N.E.W.T. level courses, they weren't necessarily taking the same subjects anymore. Damian wanted to be a potioneer like his father and so had dropped Transfiguration and the other irrelevant classes. This meant more time alone for the both of them, but it hardly mattered as they never minded.

The comfortable and companionable silence was broken, however, when Damian spoke up abruptly.

"Why is Rose Weasley looking over here?"

Scorpius huffed as he kept his head down, resolved to not look over at the Gryffindor table.

"No idea," he answered, shoveling potatoes down his throat in an effort to avoid the conversation from continuing. Unfortunately, his cousin did not oblige him.

"She's looking at you like she's confused. Did something happen- oh shit. Now Fred Weasley noticed- he's looking over here too. Won't be long before the whole damn Weasley clan is staring at us. The hell you do to them today?" Damian muttered as he switched from glancing at his food to glancing at the Weasleys.

"Nothing," said Scorpius, seething. Fuck. His long-cherished under-the-radar existence was long gone. And all because Rose Weasley and Albus Potter hadn't been listening properly in Transfiguration.

"Doesn't seem like nothing. James Potter will strain his neck if he keeps turning to look over here," said Damian dryly.

"For fuck's sake," Scorpius expelled as he slammed his fork down. "Potter and Weasley were caught talking during Transfiguration. I looked over at them and made eye contact with Rose Weasley. That's it."

"That's it?" Damian asked, his eyebrow raised. "What kind of eye contact was this? Were you staring at her chest or some-"

"No!" said Scorpius indignantly, his cheeks going red. "Of course not!"

"Calm down, prude. I'm only taking the piss," snorted Damian, returning to his food. "But next time, you might want to watch what kind of 'eye contact' you're making with little Miss Weasley if you don't want her entire family to stare at you every mealtime."

Scorpius gritted his teeth, his hands by his sides as he glared at his half-eaten dinner.

"Is she still looking?" he asked quietly.

Damian smirked. "No- she's talking to her brother I think. Why? Do you want her to be looking at you?"

Scorpius blushed. "No, I just want to eat my bloody dinner in peace," he muttered.

He chanced a surreptitious glance at her under his dirty blonde hair.

She was laughing good-naturedly at her younger brother, teasing him about something, only to have him grin wickedly and ruffle her hair in retribution, her curls becoming slightly wild from the effect. She playfully slapped his arm before turning around and whispering something in the youngest Potter's ear with a smile.

She left her hair the way it was.

That was when Scorpius realized that Rose Weasley fascinated him.