Four Years in the Running

Under Pressure pt. 1

Rose sat, her legs crossed, her mind whirling. She shoved the paper back in her book and sighed frustratingly. 

"What are you sighing for, Weasley?" Scorpius Malfoy had walked into the Room of Requirement so quietly, Rose hadn't even noticed him open the door. 

"Nothing." She answered curtly as he placed his things down and pulled his script out. They were now halfway through act three, and it was beginning to not be so bad. Rehearsing with Malfoy, that was. Their lines did not converge with one another as much in these last acts, and it seemed that Rose and Scorpius weren't butting heads against one another as much. Yet, they did skip over the gestures they would have to convey when they acted it out for the school. Rose did not like to discuss it. 

"You sure?" He responded with a slight bit of concern in his voice. 

"I'm fine, now let's get on with it, we're behind." She lightly smacked him with her script as he chuckled and cleared his throat obnoxiously. 

"Alive in triumph, and Mercurio slain? Away to heaven respective lenity and fire eyed fury be my conduct now! Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again that late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul is but little way above our heads..." Malfoy was now walking around the room, pronouncing each word with precise connotation. Rose watched him as he dove into his character, she watched him closely and soon found herself staring. What the bloody hell? She thought as he walked towards her. What am I doing? 

"Rose? Er, I mean, Weasley?" Rose snapped her head forth and found Malfoy pointing towards her soliloquy. She blinked and gulped hard, for she had zoned of out the whole end of scene one. Which was arguably the only part of the play that actually had some action. 

"I'm sorry, I'm just out of it." She laughed it off and flipped a few pages to the beginning of scene two. "Usually I wouldn't dare miss Tybalt's death." She joked as he took a seat next to her. 

"Can you just tell me what's bugging you so we can rehearse this very thrilling play?" He nudged her. She nodded and pulled a crumpled paper out of her book. 

"I got a not so great grade on my transfiguration paper, that's what's bugging me." She grumbled as he took the paper from her hands.

"Oi, Weasley, you are one point away from an O on this paper." He began to laugh and saw the grave look on Rose's face, and turned it into a cough. "Seriously though, you're grade is fine in transfiguration, it's just a few stupid mistakes."

"Exactly! Stupid mistakes! I should have studied harder, stayed up later-"

"It's fine if you mess up once-"

"No it's not!" Rose was standing now, her thoughts whirling around her mind so quickly. So quickly. "I have to be perfect, people are always watching me, there's so much pressure..."

"You have pressure on you?" Malfoy spluttered, his face going from concerned to stormy and hard. There was silence. And suddenly it was just like old times, fighting and butting heads. It was as if nothing had changed. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rose was off the table now, leveled height with Malfoy who was still sitting. He stood, now several inches taller. Rose groaned. 

"I meant what I said. You think you have pressure on you? Daughter of the bloody saviors of the war? Everyone loves you! All the teachers, students, and even the ghosts in the hallways like you!" 

"Why are you getting so mad?!" Rose was clenching and unclenching her fists. Her face turning red. 

"Because you are not under any pressure compared to me." 

"Oh, so it's a competition now?" She retorted, crossing her arms indignantly.

"I have had to act all cold and tough and act like nothing bothers me when people tell me my father should be rotting in Azkaban. Have you ever had someone tell you that, tell you your father should be dead or your grandfather should be dead? That you shouldn't exist? No. People just tell you that your just as intelligent as your mother and as athletic as your father, you barely need to work to be great because you already are. Everyone loves you and expect great things from you." He ran his hands through his hair, his silver eyes dark and narrowed. "No one expects anything from me. Every student and teacher seemed to hate me or was afraid I'll turn out like my father when I came to school. Some people still do. If I'm too weak I'll look like a coward, if I'm too cold and strong I'll be turning out just like my father. So, no it's not a competition, Weasley. The playing fields aren't even remotely even." 

Rose was utterly stunned as the blonde haired boy slid out of the door, leaving his books behind. The door slammed, sending chills down to her bones. 

* * * * *

Rose Weasley was angry with Scorpius Malfoy for about an hour, then she was just angry with herself. She, Rose Weasley, was utterly stupid. Sure, she could memorize facts and study her heart out, but she was blind to what was going on around her. It was completely unfair to say that she was under pressure to Malfoy, completely unfair. What had she expected him to say? Did she want him to comfort her and tell her it would be okay? Did she want pity? He was right to say what he said, and now their budding friendship was surely gone. It had disappeared without a trace of it ever happening. And she was beginning to enjoy it, as hard as that may be to admit it. 

She gathered her books and the paper the two had fought about. But it wasn't really the paper that had sparked the brawl, was it. Rose sighed and gathered his books as well, then set out into the hallway to see if Malfoy was still out there roaming, somewhere. As she walked a few things flew out of Malfoy's books. She placed her things on the ground and and grasped the fallen items. As she turned them over a smile crept across her face. 

They were photographs. 

Of the castle, the lake, the great hall, students, the sunset over the mountains. Of everything. She turned the last one over and saw the library, framed perfectly. The sun was setting through the stained glass window and a figure sat against the bookshelves. It was Rose. She was reading, as usual. She grinned and collected the photos, feeling lighter on her feet as she went. She was finally seeing who Scorpius Malfoy was.