They picked their way quietly back through the forest. Scorpius veered even further right than usual, he favoured his left leg. Sariah knew they'd overshot the clearing by a huge margin when they finally came in sight of the lake. The castle was perched resolutely on the hills to their left, a huge crescent of lakeside separating them.

"Wait-" Scorpius said, as she turned back to Hogwarts. "Did you want to go the long way around today?"

She looked dubiously around the rocky shore. For someone who had been nearly beaten to a pulp by a suit of armour, an extended hike didn't seem like the best idea. "Isn't it a bit far?"

"I've done it before, it takes about an hour from the castle. Forty minutes from here." He scowled at the castle's reflection across the water. "I just want to be away from the castle, for as long as possible. I'll go by myself if you don't want to."

"It's alright, I'll come with you," Sariah replied.

The day was not as freezing as usual and the sky was blue, good omens for hiking, Sariah thought. The sun peaked above the mountains that sheltered the valley. Small stones crunched underfoot as they trekked close to the tree line. Sariah repressed a smile as she realised this was the first time she was actually doing what everyone in her dormitory believed she did; roaming about the forest and lake with a mysterious stranger. She looked across to Scorpius, whose hands had been balled into fists ever since they'd started walking. 

Spotting a round stone, she rolled it around her gloved hand, and skipped it across the water. It bounced four times across the surface, spreading circular ripples across the lake. They almost look like Wi-Fi bars, she thought forlornly.

"That's a cool spell," Scorpius said, breaking their silence. "What is it?"

"It's not a spell, it's physics. My dad taught me," she said, scanning the ground for another one to demonstrate. "You just need a round-ish, flat-ish stone. It'll just bounce across the water if you throw it right."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You seriously haven't seen anyone skip stones before?"

"Not recently. I think my mother showed me once, when I was younger. They'd skip all the way to the other side of the lake. I didn't know muggles knew how to do that."

He threw a rock, which disappeared under the surface with the sound of a final watery heartbeat.

"To the other side of the lake?" Sariah choked. "My record's only seven. Here, this is a good one. Good weight, good shape. You want to throw it a bit like a frisbee, but lower."

She passed him the stone. Scorpius took his wand out from his pocket.

"What do you need that for? I told you it's physics."

"You said it was a good stone. It seems like a waste to only use it once." He tapped the stone, "Accio moratus."

Sariah wondered what the spell would do as he threw the stone. It arced high in the air, and collided with the water at a near ninety degree angle. Obviously not much, she thought with some satisfaction.

A moment later, the rock surged back out of the water, and back into Scorpius' open palm. He threw it again, too hard, before charming a second stone for her. Sariah coached him through the finer arts of stone throwing as they made their way along the lake. His biggest problem was that he was throwing it like he was trying to slay a giant rather than have it dance across the surface.

Across the lake, the castle grounds looked deserted. The banks of the lake were empty of black specs that she'd recognise as people, as were the grassy slopes leading up to the castle. Even the quidditch pitch had no wisps of colour fluttering about. 

At the farthest point away from the castle, Sariah drew to a halt. "So about the dragons that attacked London-" she began.

"You think I know who did it?" Scorpius snapped, watching his stone collapse under the water.

"I don't know," Sariah said, shaking her head.

His eyes flared like the flames of a Bunsen burner, an enraged blue.

"I'm not asking because you're in Slytherin, Scorpius, or your because family were, you know-"

"-Were what?" He spat. "Slytherin, Death Eaters or murderers?"

Shivers ran down her spine. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that, sorry. I've only had a couple of years notice that wizards and dragons actually do exist. So I thought you might have a better idea about who was behind it."

"I don't know who it was," Scorpius said. "My family became pariahs of both sides after the war, so despite what people think, I don't have a psychic knowledge of criminal affairs."

"I believe you," she said. The grimacing silver mask Scorpius had found under the car flashed through her mind. "Is there any chance it could be Death Eaters?"

He scoffed slightly. "It's unlikely. Firstly, because You-Know-Who died over twenty years ago. Secondly, because my grandfather used to show me articles about the Wizarding War; newspaper clippings he'd kept for prosperity. He was always proud of what they'd done -- what he'd done," he paused. "I wasn't old enough to read then, but you could tell a Death Eater attack just from the pictures. They were arrogant; they used to shoot gigantic Dark Marks into the air to spread their message. Dragons aren't inherently evil, and there was no Dark Mark. Then again," he said sullenly, "No one died. We won't know until they attack again."

His words chilled Sariah to the bone. She threw a stone at the lake. It sank.

Behind them, there was a rustling, and snapping of branches. Instinctively, the pair dropped into a crouch beside the lake. Scorpius crawled slowly up the bank, and motioned her to follow him. Sariah could hardly believe what she saw. Ethan Spritely was crouched over a growing spurt of moss, green despite the winter elements, not ten feet away from them. He prodded it with his wand, which produced a small purple smoke cloud.

"What's he doing out here?" Scorpius hissed at her.

"I don't know. Britta told me that he's the best Herbologist in his year; maybe he just really likes plants?"

Ethan sniffed the moss and poked it with his wand again, before pulling several clumps of it out and adding them to his bag. He hurried off in the opposite direction, looking over his shoulder as if worried something would leap out of the trees and lynch him.

After waiting several minutes they continued their path along the lake.

"I'm sorry if what I said was too much," Scorpius said, as they rounded another corner of the lake, now moving back towards the castle.

"No, I mean, I asked," she said. "I can't believe your grandfather would show you things like that though. It's awful." She imagined a four-year-old Scorpius pawing over pictures of dead bodies, fights, and terror, his grandfather egging him on.

Scorpius frowned, and changed the topic. "You know, we could cut through to Hogsmeade from here. That's probably where Spritely came from. It wouldn't take that much longer."

"Won't most of the school be there?" she asked.

"I imagine Madame Puddifoot's will be swarming with post-Valentine's dates. We could go to The Hog's Head. No one's bothered me there before."

"I didn't bring any money," Sariah said.

Scorpius almost cracked a smile. "That's the one thing I'm not lacking. Come on, it's not far over this rise."

As the forest petered out around them, the shrieking shack came into view, Its collapsed walls jutted out from the hill like starved ribs.

Scorpius walked alongside her, thoroughly amiable, as they discussed their newy assigned book, Pride and Prejudice. To her immense surprise he'd actually started reading it. Even stranger was his evaporated apprehension about being seen with her in public. Then she remembered the bruises, charmed into submission across the left side of his face, and his newly acquired limp. Had she become his de facto body guard, or an alibi? She wondered grimly.

The Hog's Head was a dark hole of a bar, the old man at the counter raised his white eyebrows in equal parts of surprise and annoyance as they entered. He was almost skeletally gaunt, with a long beard that disappeared behind the counter.

"Mr. Malfoy, the usual?"

"Yes, two please," Scorpius said. They sat at the bar, nursing hot Butterbeers in their hands. She hadn't realized how cold it had been outside, until her cheeks began stinging with the sudden warmth. Beside her, Scorpius' cheeks had turned pink.

"So-" she said, unsure of how to continue on their conversations, which usually were centered on the Muggle Studies homework she did for him.

Scorpius took a large gulp of his Butterbeer. "So."

She glanced around the dark bar, noting a faded sign that actively prohibited the trade or sale of unicorn's blood on the premises.

"Your car nearly crushed me today," he said quietly, "although I'll admit it wasn't entirely without provocation."

"I'm really sorry about that, I didn't know she could even react that way," she replied. "But she's nearly back to normal, I just need to get some air into her tyres, and some petrol and she'll be good to go."

"That's what I've been meaning to talk to you about. The Muggle Studies O.W.L has a practical session; one that I haven't even managed to pass in a practise test."

Something twigged in her mind. Was she was being blackmailed, again? Sariah cursed herself for believing that Scorpius was merely being nice on the virtue of his character. Of course he wanted something from her. Her mouth twitched downward, as she put the Butterbeer down on the sticky wooden bar.

He glanced across at her. "I'd be willing to help get the final repairs sorted, if you're okay with teaching me, of course."

"And in return, you won't turn the Anglia in?" she asked bitterly.

Scorpius blinked. "What? No, if you don't want to, you don't have to; I'm not breaking our original deal. I'll even help you out with Potions or DADA, if you wanted to trade areas of expertise."

She blushed at her jump to assumptions and considered his offer. She was practically failing those two subjects, and couldn't afford to turn the help away. "You've got a deal. I don't know if she'll let you drive her, but I'll try my best to teach you regardless."

"Great," he grinned. "So what do we need to get her running?"

"A tank of petrol, and an air pump."

"Would any of those be transportable by owl?"

"It's actually against the law to deliver petrol through normal mail, because it's an explosive-"

"-Normal mail?" Scorpius asked, smirking.

"You know, with a courier, or a post-man-" she trailed off. "Muggle mail, if you need clarification. But owl mail should be fine. The Anglia has a thirty litre capacity, so the more you can get the better, without out people being suspicious, of course."

"I think I can arrange that, what about the air pump?"

"There must be one for the test car we use in muggle studies," Sariah said. "I'll-"

She stopped, turning towards the strange clattering noises emanating from the chimney. Suddenly, a frenzied owl flew out into the fireplace, spraying soot and dust into the feeble fire. It buzzed around the room like an angry moth, spreading up dust in grey clouds.

"Damn it, Elrond!" the grizzled bartender shouted, "Get over here. What's so urgent you can't use the window, huh?"

The tawny owl hooted apologetically, as it came to rest on the bar. The bartender removed a copy of the Daily Prophet from the owl's leg, and placed a selection of coins into the leather pouch on its free leg. He swore loudly at the cover story.

Sariah leaned over, trying to glimpse what it was. The old man threw the paper onto the bar in front of Scorpius and stormed out of sight. She gasped at the headline: "Eight muggles dead in dragon vs ship, arctic skirmish"

"I don't recognize the symbol in the picture," Scorpius said. "It's not the Death Eater one." He turned to look at her, concerned. "It's the one you're always drawing on windows."