The Red Rose That Has Green Thorns

“Weee! You’re back with the pack!”

I looked up at the creature from where I lay on the ground - the same place I’d fallen just before I’d woken from the dream last time.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, slumping back down wearily.

“Come, come, we must go! Do you want to miss the show?”

“Aren’t I supposed to be saving whoever it is, not watching him die?” I grumbled, rolling into a sitting position. “And what the heck are you?”

“If you caught me in time, he wouldn’t have to die!” The creature started hopping away. “And I don’t even know what to call me, so spunky I am and Spunky I shall be!”

“Spunky? And why is he being killed, anyway?!” I called after him, struggling to my feet. “I bet he hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“No, he hasn’t! Oh, it’s your fault he’s done for!”

“What?! My fault? What have I done?!”

“You didn’t know where to go! You got lost and now it has cost! He won’t make it through unless you’re there to die, too!”

“How could he make it if I died ‘too’?! Doesn’t that use of ‘too’ mean that he’d already be dead when I died?” I scrambled after Spunky, trying to catch up to him.

“Sort of, but there’s a difference! Don’t worry, I know that it doesn’t make sense!”

“Then why do you keep telling me things if you know I can’t make sense of it?!”

“I only tell you what you ask me to,” Spunky turned with a bounce to look at me, starting to form a poisonous puddle. “It’s not my problem if you can’t solve my riddles! I assure you they’re not for fits and giggles!”

I groaned.

“If you want to save the boy, you’ll have to play coy!”

I understood that much as I rounded a bend, hopping his puddle. I didn’t see the strange, spunky little creature…I saw a man armored like some sort of dark knight. He raised a black, steel blade and pointed it right at my heart.

“Your business here?”

“Remember, Rose, you must be coy to save the boy!”

Spunky’s voice boomed, but the knight didn’t seem to even notice, or he didn’t care.

*

I sat up, confused again.

“That’s the second time!” I groaned.

“The second time what?”

I jumped and turned to face the book. Scorpius was looking up at me from The Catcher In The Rye, curiosity in his (gorgeous) features. I was slightly mesmerized for a moment before I shook it off to answer.

“The second time I’ve had a dream with that thing in it,” I said, then I decided it would be useless to try to hide anything. “He calls himself Spunky and secrets glowing orange and poisonous pus. And the damn thing speaks only in riddles and rhymes!”

Scorpius looked paler than usual after I said that, so I reminded myself to ask him if he was feeling all right. I couldn’t have my best beater for the Exhibition sick at tomorrow’s game, could I? He was also looking at me like I was crazy - well, I assumed that was what he was thinking. I laughed and scratched my head, for lack of something else to do with my hands.

“What are some of the things it says?” he asked.

“Sometimes they’re hard to understand, but it’s a lot of things like, ‘It’s your fault he’s done for!’ and, ‘Yes, I can rhyme! You won’t catch me in time to save your friend from his untimely end!’. It’s weird. The last thing he said to me was, ‘You must be coy to save the boy!’. Cryptic little bugger, he is.”

“Weird,” Scorpius searched for my reaction before glancing at his watch. “We’d better go to Charms. Here’s a sandwich, I figured you’d be hungry.”

I took the sandwich with a thanks and grabbed my bag to follow Scorpius. It wasn’t hard to follow him - his nose was still buried in the book. I wondered how a weird dream like the one I’d had could pull his attention away, he was so focused. I decided, then, that I’d think about it later, and I kind of watched Scorpius out of the corner of my eye as he focused on reading.

When we got to Charms, it was to learn that Professor Malin had once again decided she wasn’t even going to try to teach. Instead, she’d chosen to pull Scorpius and I to the teacher’s desk at the front of the room to talk about things like the next prefect’s meeting.

“Is this coming Tuesday good enough for a new prefect’s meeting? It’s been quite a while since the first one, you know.” she had cut straight to the point.

“That sounds fine.” I said, sitting on the desk. “There’s a few new measures we could go over, just to ensure that all the rules are upheld during both the Exhibition and the Triwizard Tournament, and such.”

“It’s about time we had another meeting,” Scorpius agreed, “but might I also suggest we start having one every two weeks? Starting on Tuesday, perhaps.”

“Good, good,” Professor Malin nodded in approval.

She said a few more things pertaining to the prefect meetings, and then we discussed a few possible rules and the new measures. Believe it or not, I actually hadn’t pulled it off the top of my head - Scorpius and I had a bulletin board full of notes of ideas we’d had at different times. We hadn’t messed with it much, as a good Head Boy and Girl should have, but we had a lot on our plates at the moment. None of the ideas were fully formed, and we said we’d work on them and bring some to her on Monday. She agreed.

“So…congratulations on making the Exhibition. Even though I already knew that you’d made it - all of the Professors have known all summer. We had professionals come in to judge and pick after watching memories from several of the professors of the matches over the year, and so we’ve known for several months now.” Professor Malin grinned when my jaw dropped and I stared at her incredulously.

“And you wouldn’t even give us hints, or anything?” I asked, indignantly.

“Couldn’t. It was against the rules.” She shrugged.

I sighed, swinging my legs. “Some rules are made to be broken,” I muttered. Professor Malin caught it and just laughed, shaking her head.

“Not something the Head Girl should say,” Scorpius said teasingly, sitting to the left beside me on the desk. The desk was plenty large enough for the both of us to sit quite comfortably upon. Professor Malin had wheeled her muggle desk chair around to the front of the desk, facing us, with her back to the rest of the class - several of whom were fast asleep.

“Meh,” I shrugged. “I’m a Weasley. It’s only natural that I break a few rules once in a while. Like going to the kitchens for midnight snacks, or something. That’s fun, that is. And it’s been just that much easier since I became a prefect fifth year.”

“I’ll pretend I haven’t just heard a word you’ve said,” Professor Malin’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Oh, yeah. I appreciate that, Professor,” I grinned at her, not at all worried about letting that slip in front of her. I knew it was safe to say around her, though - if it hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have said it. I’m not totally stupid. My mother is, after all, Hermione Granger-Weasley, the smartest witch of her age. I like to think I get some of those genes and not just the Weasley ones. Well, I had to have some of hers. After all, I don’t have the compulsive urge - need - to hate all Malfoys.

Especially not the ones that are my age who have an interest in the muggle items I grew up around and have to be so damn likeable. In more ways than one.

Scorpius shook his head at me, sighing.

“Hey! You’ve done it before, too,” I told him matter-of-factly, “so don’t you go huffing at me!”

“It was a sigh, not a huff, Rose, and thanks so much for telling,” he rolled his eyes, but Professor Malin just laughed.