Game of Disguise by you-make-me-wander

Do you know how sometimes you get so used to wearing a mask that you almost forget you’re wearing it?

 

When is it too late to take it off? To prevent it from getting so attached to you, from irrevocably changing who you are at your core?

 

Will you have the courage it takes to face off your fears when your mask falls?

 

***

 

Two years ago

 

“Looks like we’ll be trapped in here for a while…”

 

I’m going to kill him. I’m positive, absolutely sure, 100% certain that as soon as I can get my hands free, I’m going to kill him. And then report his careless arse to The Force.

 

“Oh really?,” I ask rhetorically, my tone bordering on exasperation. It’s been, I’m guessing, almost two hours of captivity. "I'd never thought."

 

Malfoy narrows his eyes at my sarcastic response, but it doesn't go completely unnoticed to me how he keeps bouncing one of his legs. I can tell that he’s agitated, and I hate that I know his habits so well by now. “Yes, I’m dead serious. We are really gonna be here for a while, Weasley. It’s a fact. They’re not letting us go anytime soon, and it’s…”

 

He continues rambling and I huff my annoyance, trying to free my wrists again by pulling at the ropes that bind me. As expected, it does nothing. “Then you’d better shut your mouth, Malfoy, because I’m fed up with you already!,” I blurt out, frustrated to no end.

 

I swear to Circe that no one tests my patience as much as he does.

 

Malfoy's mouth pops open and he has the nerve to glare at me in disbelief with those infuriatingly gorgeous grey eyes. “Why are you looking at me like this is my fault?”

 

The audacity! 

 

If it weren’t because of him, I would have never found myself in this situation. It was my day off, The Force didn’t need me and if it hadn't been for him going missing, I would have probably never been called in. But no! He'd gotten himself into trouble, the rest of the team was occupied with other missions, and I had almost barked at my mother something very unladylike when the Ministry called for me and demanded that I went looking for the git.

 

While the appraisal that came with such a task was commendable (after all, I am the best Curse Breaker in the Ministry in this time and age, and they did send me in by myself), I’m positive that my mother dreaded sending me in to free Malfoy almost as much as I regretted having to accept it.

And so when I could have been at home relaxing, doing some facials and drinking tea curled up with a good book, I instead find myself in a confined room deep within one of the most prestigious art galleries the magical world has to offer, tied to a chair without good (read: any) prospects of escaping, and with Malfoy beside me in the same unfortunate predicament.

 

Powerful charms prevent us from using any magic to get free, and on the other side of the door several members of The Brotherhood steal paintings too valuable to even imagine their worth while Malfoy and I sit passively and let it happen.

 

Alright so I can admit, quite against my will, that Malfoy can be incredibly sneaky, a quality that I have reluctantly come to admire. And he's smart. So smart (almost like a mastermind really, not that I'll ever say it out loud) that he got this lead all on his own, decided to investigate on a hunch and ended up catching The Brotherhood in the act, which is a first in the Ministry’s investigation of the group. Given that they mostly operate without leaving traces behind except for the emptiness that lingers in their wake, it's surprising that Malfoy was able to trace them at all before things went down.

 

It seems that the problems only arose when Malfoy tried to call for reinforcements and, being the klutz that he can be sometimes, ended up alerting the villains to his whereabouts, resulting in his incarceration. I don't know if I’m more bummed that Malfoy screwed up, that he got me caught as well, or that some of the most beautiful and wise, secret-ridden paintings are being ripped off the walls mere feet away while there's nothing either of us can do about it.

 

I may have a hate/love thing going on here for this airhead- No, wait! Scratch that. Hate/crush, or infatuation perhaps, is more like it (and emphasis on the hate part because Merlin knows I can’t stand his face).

 

Good Dumbledore, I can’t even listen to myself in my head!

 

Thankfully, Malfoy bouncing his leg more and more as time passes us by stops my inner rant and I groan loudly. “Would you stop that?! It’s driving me crazy.”

 

He follows my gaze and ceases the movement at once, to my surprise. Something seems off. “Sorry. Bad habit.”

 

“What, are you nervous?”

 

Trying once more to free himself as well, Malfoy worries his lower lip. Strangely, and only for a moment, he almost looks forlorn. I’m not used to seeing him like this. “Well, of course I am,” he admits. “I don’t stand a chance now.”

 

 “Of…?,” I ask tentatively, unable to squelch my innate curiosity even if I regrets it almost immediately. 

 

“Of getting on the official team, Weasley, what do you think?,” he snaps at me, clearly frustrated. “They won’t let me in now. Not now that you’re here.”

 

I know all about frustration. Only Merlin knows how much Malfoy riles me up.

 

Still I tilt my head in confusion, not sure what he means. “Why? What does me being here have to do with anything?”

 

Malfoy holds my gaze for a little too long to be proper before looking away in contemplation. It makes my mind wander. “The Force is an elite team,” he murmurs after a moment. “Only the best of the best trainees will make it, and there are only so many slots to be filled by Curse Breakers. We can’t seem to work together, you and I. So, between the both of us, who do you think the Ministry will choose?”

 

Indignation takes over me instantly, living up to my hot temper. “If you think that just because most of my family works for the Ministry they’ll choose me-”

Self-preservation is an instinct that Malfoy possesses, it seems, as he’s quick to stop my tirade to prevent it from escalating. I’ll give him that. “That’s not what I meant.” Sighing and looking everywhere but at me, he adds “It’s just that you’re the best, alright? You are smart, and resourceful. You’re quick on your feet. You’re fearless, if a little insane sometimes.”

 

I gaze at him, dumbfounded.

 

I can barely believe that he’s just complimented me, and it’s true that sometimes I’ve wondered whether Malfoy might have these... Lets call it foreign emotions. Yep, that ought to describe how at times I feel towards him. And how occasionally I think he might feel towards me. But that thought is just insane.

 

I mean, in what world would a Malfoy and a Weasley ever work out?

 

The Brotherhood must have stunned me before they cast Incarcerous, that’s the only logical explanation for this tangent. Either that or spending too much time so close to Malfoy is rendering me bonkers. Either or.

 

I’m so distracted that I almost miss the moment when Malfoy finally meets my stunned gaze. His lips tilt upwards in a shy smile, and the words that he delivers next are but a murmur. Only Merlin knows why the sight of that makes my cheeks heat. “It’s just that you’re the better Curse Breaker of us all. Even if we’re always bickering, and don’t always see eye to eye, I respect you. And I admire you, alright? Now don’t let that get to your head.”

 

And that, I’m afraid, is how it starts. This is how it all changes.

 

The way he says it, like it’s his most secret admission, makes my heart fill with pride at the recognition, and the walls I had put up so long ago to keep him out crumble a little. Suddenly embarrassed with the harshness that I’ve always treated him with, I’m the one now looking away in an attempt to hide my blush.

 

I must stay silent for too long because when his voice breaks the void that was starting to swallow us, it startles me. “Will you look at me?”

 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Feeling suddenly nervous, my thoughts bring to the forefront of my mind all the reasons why we have hated each other ever since we were born. A family feud older than time itself, a rivalry innate to our blood lineage that neither of us could have avoided even if we wanted to. Ultimately a competition that became the fuel which ended up driving us here.

 

A mask that we were forced to wear ever since I can remember.

 

“Rose, please.”

 

I’m helpless to escape the sincerity in his voice now, most of all when he calls me by my first name. It’s such a rarity, I’ve practically forgotten the sound. When our eyes lock this time, I can’t define what passes between us.

 

All I know is that it’s different.

 

“I’m tired of believing that this is what we’re reduced to.” I find myself staring at him even when I don’t mean to. I’m entranced, transfixed by the seriousness of the moment. All I can do is listen. “Whatever our parents have against each other, that’s on them. I’m not saying that you and I can’t have a little friendly competition every now and then, but we’re always at each other’s throats and for what? Can’t we just try and be ourselves for once, maybe work together?”

 

Take off the mask, he says. As if it’s so simple to just stare at yourself in the mirror and remove the disguise you’ve learned to wear so well.

 

“How do we do that?,” I hear myself murmur. I don’t know why we’re even speaking in hushed tones. Maybe I’m tired of this farce as well. “We’ve known each other for years. Do we... What, Scorpius? Do we just start over?”

 

He must interpret my words as an agreement because he smirks, the bastard. Or maybe it’s because I’ve called him by his first name too. And the worst part is that he’s smug in that way that infuriates me sometimes, but that I can’t just come out and say turns me on a little. Merlin knows what he’d do with that...

 

“We don’t have to be who they want us to be. Perhaps it’s time to become who we are meant to.”

 

And that is, I think, how he really convinces me that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we just trusted each other enough to work together without hexing one another left and right. It’s not like we have to be friends, we just have to... Coexist.

 

His words stay with me long after we’re freed from our predicament. Later that night, in the cosiness of my bed, I can’t help but wonder where this new stance will take us. Whether taking off our masks will change who we are as a person, who we are to each other.

 

It’s with ease that I can admit I’m looking forward to finding out.

 

***

 

Wearing a mask can become a habit. One that you live and breathe to the point of forgetting who you were before you started engaging in it.

 

We thought it would be easy to let go, just like we thought it wouldn’t change things all that much.

 

What we could never have guessed is that we would never end up losing our masks entirely.

 

We just replaced it with new ones.

Present

 

I don’t know how I got here. I have no clue as to how I’ve come from hating his very existence to kind of, maybe fancying his darn face in just a little over two years.

 

It’s ridiculous, it’s what it is, that Scorpius leans over the opposite end of the long mahogany table in the conference room, and I just stare at him like I want to jump him any second.

 

And worse, I know I’m staring. Albus’ annoying glare is drilling a hole on the side of my head, and I can hear my father huffing more than usual even if I don’t dare look him in the eyes to confirm.

 

Quit staring, Rose!

 

In my defence though, if I might, Scorpius is looking rather fine today with the dishevelled hair and the fitting clothes and those rolled-up sleeves showing off his forearms...

 

Merlin.

 

Sometimes I wish that things would have started differently for us, but nothing would assure me that if something changed then we would be here now, however it is that we are these days. So I just have to believe that all that we have been through, especially during the infernal three years of our training, had to have been worthy.

 

But we were Weasley and Malfoy then.

 

I still remember those years, when true rivalry and competition were the only things that Scorpius and I shared. While those days had been stressful enough and all I wanted was to make him disappear, it’s still so fresh on my mind the mission that ended up determining our future as co-workers and our sort of friendship. I’ll admit now that it’s with fondness that I recall the last mission we had before both of us were invited to join The Force.

 

It seems that all we needed to go from sworn enemies to co-workers who sort of tolerate each other was to be thrown together in a confined space by ourselves, with no obvious means of escaping. Having to work together to free ourselves was our only hope of getting out unscathed, and it paved the way to where we are now.

 

Two years later, the bickering isn’t all that better, but at least we can work together no problem. Well, mostly.

 

With the occasional arguing, of course.

 

Because we’re Rose and Scorpius now.

 

I’m lost in my memories of that day when my mom calls for me. Apparently, I don’t quite listen, because she says my name a second time. Still I’m afraid she’s nothing more than a distant voice. Thoughts of how rumpled Scorpius looked when we finally managed to escape that damned room two years ago still makes me feel all-

 

It’s Scorpius clearing his throat that finally gets me out of my own mind. Figures.

 

One eyebrow raised, I can tell that he’s fighting not to smirk. What a prick. “You okay there, Rose?”

 

So... Alright. Confession time? Maybe I’m pining over him. Hard. Like I never thought I would, almost to the point of embarrassment. Once I got to know him... I guess he isn’t such a bad bloke to like. And people (mostly Albus) are apparently fed up with us. Well, with me.

 

At least that’s how I see it. There’s no way Scorpius feels the same way-

 

“Rose?”

 

Our eyes lock, and there’s no one else in the room. For a second, anyway.

 

“Did your hear me?,” my mother intervenes, but the authority in her voice comes from her political position instead of her kinship.

 

My head snaps towards her, and I’m quick to nod in acknowledgement. I can tell that she doesn’t quite believe me but it doesn’t matter. All of us in the room have heard this same introduction over and over, so what’s the point in giving it my undivided attention?

 

My mother glares at me for a moment before continuing her briefing. “As you all know, we haven’t had any new leads on The Brotherhood some time, despite our best efforts.” Even if this isn’t news to any of us, we all groan in frustration.

 

And speaking of, do you know that kind of tension you can’t seem to get rid of when you’re torn between doing whatever it takes to be better than your old enemy, but that also makes you kind of want to snog him senseless, just to know what it would be like? You know, if you weren’t afraid to risk the sort of friendship that took you so long to nourish?

 

Well, this witch has plenty of that. This frustration has been driving me nuts, so much so that I think I’m going insane.

 

Mom goes on, not noticing that I’m losing my mind over here. “That is, until now.”

 

Wait, what is she saying?

 

Albus seems to perk up too, so I must have heard her right. “We have a lead?”

 

“More like a whisper,” my Mom confesses. “But we think it’s worth investigating. The Senior Aurors have been gathering intel for the last month, and there’s word of a high-tech facility on the outskirts of Grantham, in Lincolnshire. It’s said that The Brotherhood is keeping some of the relics they’ve stolen in there, and it’s also supposed to be where the larger group sometimes gathers.”

 

So that’s what dad and Uncle Harry have been doing this past month.

 

“High-tech? So, Muggle protection on top of magic?,” Scorpius asks. My traitorous gaze wanders to him without a second thought.

 

“Yes,” my father replies to him sternly, and it might be more because of my erratic behaviour towards Scorpius today (read: lately) than for Scorpius’ interest in the mission. Oops. “We already know that they have amongst them wizards that are powerful enough to create anti-magic rooms, and that it renders most of their opponents weak when there’s a face-off. As you well know, not all wizards are familiar with Muggle technology or their fighting techniques, to say the least, so not being able to use magic makes some of us a liability when facing our enemy.”

 

“And that’s why we think we have a good chance now of gathering new intel,” my Uncle Harry adds. “Some of you on this team are very familiar with Muggles and how they go about their day. So we’re sending people in. We’re sending people who know not only how to operate Muggle technology fairly easily, but also who can interact and best pretend to be a Muggle as possible, since plenty of the members of The Brotherhood are either Muggles or Squibs.”

 

“Because those members are the connection between the Muggle and the Wizarding Black Market, they are the best targets to engage with,” mom finishes. “We chose those of you who we thought would be most at ease amongst them and who, more likely, will have it easiest stepping into a role that, simply put, you’ll have to interpret.”

 

At once, every Junior Consultant in the room denotes more interest in the briefing, regardless of our field of choice. Whispers fill the room.  

 

“So it’s an undercover mission?,” I ask, mildly put off that mom and dad kept this from me until now.

 

Albus looks so excited at the prospect that he practically runs to his father’s side on the other side of the oval table. I’m honestly surprised that he didn’t just crawl over it. “And you’ve already chosen who is going to go in?”

 

Uncle Harry sighs and shares a look with my father. For some reason, my dad looks even more annoyed than he did a minute ago. “I’m afraid you’ll stay behind on this one, Al. But I’m sure you’ll be very valuable as the liaison between the main and the back-up teams.”

 

I know Albus takes this with a grain of salt, just as I would. As the offspring of the Golden Trio, we always walk a fine line between receiving the merit we deserve, or being labelled “fortunate” because of who our parents are and the opportunities people offer us even if we don’t ask for them. We can’t have any perks on the job, naturally, but knowing that sometimes we are held back just because the Ministry can’t afford having people assume that we are given this or that just because of who we are can hurt.

 

If the son of The Boy Who Lived is staying backstage, who on earth have they chosen for this mission? I don’t know of anyone more knowledgeable on all Muggle things than Albus, except for me and-

 

“Scorpius,” my mother calls, “we’ve chosen you to go undercover on this mission. You’ve proven yourself very valuable to our cause, you’re one of our most intelligent assets and your...” I’m pretty sure my father murmurs obsession under his breath. “Hmm... Fixation with Muggle history and their living will certainly be useful for this task. Congratulations. You’ve earned yourself your first undercover mission,” she finishes with a kind smile.

 

Scorpius grins and thanks her for the consideration. The Juniors closest to him pat him on the back, and I hate that I’m slightly jealous of the blonde Obliviator that has the brass of squeezing Scorpius’ arm in appreciation, all smiles. 

 

Politely relieving himself of the girl’s claws, Scorpius takes a quick moment to nod evasively at my father and Uncle Harry, to then cast a Sorry-mate look over at Albus. His attention fixes again on my mother, and I can tell that he’s containing – not very well - his excitement at the news. “So what is the mission? And my undercover role, who will I be? How long will I be away?”

 

It’s so strange thinking now that two years ago I just wouldn’t give him the time of day, and now I’d give anything to hear him ramble any chance I could get…

 

Circe, I’m so gone it’s not even funny.

 

Mom is quick and happy to go into explanation mode, as always. “From what we’ve found out, The Brotherhood is using Belton Manor as a cover.” She grabs the nearest regional map and points to where the mansion is. All twenty of us get up and lean in to get a better look. “As far as we can tell, the organization is looking to expand their connections, and they have been throwing exuberant parties at the Manor with the goal of both getting more funding and manpower. These parties have been held under the pretence of being fundraisers for social causes, attracting famous politicians, respected dignitaries and wealthy entrepreneurs.”

 

“And that means,” Magical Law Enforcement Officer Macmillan says, “that old money meets new money at those parties. While some of the attendees are invited purely for show, others go to support the cause, be it with morality or whatever means necessary. Money, manpower, safehouses throughout the country, influence over local law enforcers to look the other way... You name it.”

 

Uncle Harry picks up. “Now the reason why we think, Scorpius, that you would be such a good fit is not only for your talents and interests, but also because you were raised in some wealth.” Dad mutters something under his breath that I can’t quite catch, and Uncle Harry elbows him discreetly. “While I know your parents didn’t raise you in the luxury that your ancestors were used to, you were still brought up in a rich environment. You’ve met and know how to behave amongst important and wealthy people, and how to best handle them. You can be conniving, as they can, and we needed someone who could play the part effortlessly without much training, as our response time is limited.”

 

Wow. Etiquette is what got Scorpius the job? Who would have guessed?

 

“You’re also charming, Scorpius, and well-spoken,” my mother adds, much to my father’s chagrin. “We wanted the best odds of getting intel from any attendees at the next party, no matter if they play an active role in the organization or not. Any information you can get might be valuable.”

 

Scorpius blushes a little at my mother’s compliment but is quick to brush it aside. “And when is this next party going to be? Who will I impersonate?”

 

Senior MacMillan carries on with the explanation. “We’ve contacted one of the most eligible bachelors at the moment. Gabriel Tulson, you might have heard of him.” Well I know of him well, as will any witch with a pair of eyes. But Scorpius? He just shrugs, and I almost want to laugh. Unless Gabe Tulson was an historical figure, the chances of Scorpius knowing of him are slim to none. “He’s new money. His father, who recently passed, had illicit dealings that left Mr. Tulson with quite the sum of money, more than he knows what to do with. As he’s still young, in his mid-twenties, he became a rather popular figure, as you can imagine. Now the thing is – and barely anyone knows this – Gabriel Tulson is a wizard.”

 

“What?!”

 

The biggest surprise comes from beside me, from my cousin Dominique. The other girls in the room gasp and whisper amongst themselves. What a gossip if Witch Weekly took notice of this...

 

“We have reason to believe that The Brotherhood doesn’t know this, and we’ll play it in our favour even if it means that you won’t be able to use magic. The Tulson family has always concealed their magic, mostly because of the kind of people they dealt with. Shady businesses could have turned awry if the Muggles found out that the family was magical, so for generations that trait has been somewhat supressed. Naturally the Ministry knows, and so we’ve contacted him and made a deal. Since Mr. Tulson wants nothing to do with his late father’s business and he’s being taunted by several parties to follow in his father’s footsteps, we have offered him protection in exchange of using his image for as long as necessary.”

 

Scorpius looks pensive as he absorbs the information. “Using his image? What does that entail?”

 

“Mr. Tulson will hide under the Ministry’s protection for as long as we need to have you pose as him, Scorpius. He hasn’t yet made known whether he will or won’t partake in any illegal activity, so he’s being largely sought after for his new wealth. Naturally we know that he won’t; Mr. Tulson is rather scared for his life and is still embracing his new status, so he’s looking to start over somewhere far away from England. The Ministry will provide for his protection if we’re successful in our mission. However, his silence on the matter only means that whoever wants to do business with him is all the more eager to engage in negotiations. Which means that he would be a shoe in on The Brotherhood’s next gathering.”

 

“But that also means that you, Scorpius, will be in imminent danger posing as him. And that’s why you are not going in alone.”

 

I have no way of knowing who my mother is talking about, but I find myself silently praying to Circe that it isn’t Miss Smiles. Looking over, the blonde practically glues herself to Scorpius’ side, much to his discomfort. I seethe with envy, and struggle to keep my temper from throwing the nearest paperweight at her.

 

I know I have no claim over Scorpius whatsoever and that we’re just friends, but the thought of him even being near anyone else who might be interested in him makes me feel nauseous.

 

“A few days ago, we’ve put word on the street in that Mr. Tulson would be interested in investing some of his money on the right cause, and just this morning he’s received an invitation for the next meeting of the organization at Belton Manor, that’ll happen in two days’ time. Like so, Scorpius, you’ll go as Mr. Tulson to the gathering...”

 

Thinking back, if I had known what was about to come out of my mother’s mouth I... Never mind, I probably would have reacted the same way.

 

“And Rose?” I glance at my mother, and her expression is unreadable. Not stern or angry, but not happy or all that kind either. Almost cautious, but not quite. “You’ll be going in with Scorpius as his date.”

 

I probably would have looked less shocked if I had just won the lottery.

 

I don’t have time to make sense of anything since my father interjects immediately “Fake date. You’ll be his fake date. And not even his fake date, but Gabriel Tulson’s fake date is more like it.”

 

My father isn’t much of a reader, but as a bibliophile and a lover of a good romance my mind is reeling. Everything my dad added only made my thoughts more vivid, and I feel like I’ve just stepped into the land of tropes and this has to be a dream.

 

Surely, I didn’t hear right.

 

Half of the room is looking at me while the other half stares at Scorpius. Well, except for Albus. He’s snickering, the git. I know that Dom doesn’t dare since she’s so close to me and I could easily hex her under my breath without a wand.

 

Everyone knows of mine and Scorpius’ former animosity and rather awkward friendship now, so I’m guessing there’ll be plenty of gossiping on our way out of the Ministry today.

 

Mom lays a hand on dad’s arm to quiet him, but there’s not much she can do about everyone else’s stunned reactions. She resumes her speech quickly. “Our idea is that you’ll serve as Scorpius’ protection - and your own, of course – while pretending to be his date to the gathering. You can also help with the more technological aspect of your mission, as I’m sure you both are the best equipped to deal with it. Since the invitation was for Mr. Tulson and a guest, we can’t pass the opportunity of sending someone else in with Scorpius, as no more members of this team will be able to go. Not without raising suspicions, which we surely don’t want. And regardless, we have the utmost confidence in that you’ll succeed.”

 

I’m still rendered speechless. Looking at my father’s face is all the confirmation I need that this is, in fact, rather real. We stare at each other for a few moments, in which his eyes tell me all the things he’ll never say to me out loud. I hope mine can appease his concerns, even if I’m not sure what it is exactly that they are saying.

 

“You’ll have the next 36 hours,” dad tells Scorpius after a moment and an exhale so deep I can almost feel it, “to learn everything that you can about Mr. Tulson from the man himself. And Rose...” He turns to me, and I’m mildly surprised that he isn’t making more of a scene. Merlin knows how mom convinced him to agree to this. “You’ll use that time to create your own cover. Mr. Tulson, as I’m sure you are aware, is a man of many... Companions, let’s call them. So, it wouldn’t be completely out of the blue for him to take someone that he’s never been seen with before to this meeting. And that, dare I say, is in our favour.”

 

Uncle Harry relieves dad from his uneasiness on the subject. “I’m afraid that both of you will have to be on Polyjuice for the duration of your mission. St. Mungus has been working with the Ministry for several years now, and they have developed a more potent version of the potion. It lasts longer, has less side effects, but it still tastes just as bad as it always has.” Everyone makes a face at that. “While Scorpius will become Mr. Tulson, Rose will become someone that for sure The Brotherhood has never met.”

 

“Yes!,” mom jumps in. “She’s a lovely Portuguese girl, who happened to be at the same gift shop we were in when we and the Potters visited the country last Spring. Her hair got caught on a display when she tried to avoid James as he almost knocked her over, and a couple of strands were just there for the taking. Thanks to James, we’ve found out enough about the girl to know that she isn’t famous or all that well-known, so we’re positive there won’t be any issues with her recognition, and she’s beautiful but in a modest way. Meaning that in her normal life she doesn’t stand out and would probably never catch the attention of The Brotherhood, never even mind the geographical distance. It’s a perfect cover. You’ll become someone mysterious and probably pull some of the attention to you as Mr. Tulson’s date, yet not so much that people will want to talk to you so much.”

 

“Which will give you the time to watch your surroundings and studying the attendees more closely.”

 

“Oh, and the best part is-” Mom sounds suddenly so excited, I could never guess what she’s about to say. It seems todays is turning out the day for surprises. “I don’t know how I could have forgotten about this until now, but Rose...” She waits a beat, and I almost want to yell at her to tell me. This mission is becoming so surreal, by now nothing can add to it. “There will be a Masquerade Ball at the gathering, as an incentive for the pretence fundraiser. You’ve wanted to go to one for ages, haven’t you, Rose?”

 

I swear sometimes Mom has no sense of opportunity. Dad must agree with me because he rolls his eyes and lets out a “’Mione!” that kind of sounds like a wail, and Albus is opening laughing at me now. I cast a levitation spell wordlessly to throw one of the smallest paperweights on the table at him, and when he meets my gaze, I know that he can tell that if he keeps this up, the next one coming his way will be much heavier.

 

Of course, I’ve wanted to go to a Masquerade Ball for years. Who wouldn’t? But going with someone for whom I have blurry feelings, while we’re fake dating?

 

Is that wise at all?

 

I chance a look at Scorpius on the other side of the room, but I can’t tell what his eyes are saying. I don’t know what mine are relaying back either, and the mess that is our sort of relationship, even as just friends, is out in the open for all to see. We’re not quite close, yet not enemies anymore. I’d like for us to be more but I’m afraid of messing everything up. Our current dynamic, however flirty or competitive it can get, is fragile and needs to be tactfully managed.

 

We decided to take our masks off two years ago so that we could work together, but we ended up changing those masks for others. Won’t this mission change everything again?

 

If we already have masks up, won’t using new ones on top of them enable a mess that we might not be able to handle? 

 

Mom clears her throat, and the rumble that could be heard in the room ceases at once. “Well, no matter what I said. I obviously meant that a Masquerade will help you both maintain your covers and be more evasive. Behind the mask you can also more easily study you opponents.”

 

For some reason, her last sentence stays with me the longest. Will I be able to study him?

 

The mission is not about you, Rose. Get a grip!

 

“Time is of the essence here, so you all should know your tasks.” My father sits down and starts gathering some of the papers on it, looking for a specific page. Everyone else takes a seat as well, knowing that at least a half hour of looking at paperwork lies ahead. “Scorpius, as we’ve said right now your main priority will be to get to know your character as best as you can. If Gabriel Tulson received an invitation from The Brotherhood, then I can assure you that they’ve looked him up.” He tosses Scorpius a file, then another one at me. “And you, Rose, will focus on your cover and on studying the Manor’s security measures.

 

“In 36 hours,” he continues, “you’ll both drive up to Lincolnshire, during which time you can fill each other in on your roles and devise strategies. I suggest staying close,” but my father’s eyes definitely say not too close when he looks from Scorpius to me and back to him, “mingling enough that people will want to talk to you but not talking all that much at all. You are to stay at Belton Manor for the weekend, although the details on your stay are scarce as of now. Apparently Mr. Tulson will only receive further information during his arrival to the estate, which we believe is just another of their security measures.”

 

“You’ll play your part, both spending as much time surrounded by others as possible while also trying to escape company to investigate the house further for anything relevant that you can find without getting caught,” Uncle Harry clarifies.

 

My dad picks up the list of stolen items, at least the ones that we are aware went missing. It’s a list that we all kind of hate, and that unfortunately has been getting nothing but longer. “You should also familiarize yourselves better with all that was taken. From what we found, these gatherings have been happening for months right under the Ministry’s nose. That means that if we’re lucky, they might be cocky enough to have some of the paintings on display, or at least talk about the merchandise more openly. Always pay attention to your surroundings, you two, and be careful not to divulge too much information. The more you talk, the more likely you are to say something you shouldn’t, got it?”

 

Dad is talking to the both of us, but the words seem to be delivered only to Scorpius. For a moment, neither says anything and they share a weird look. Dad probably could have used a less bitter tone, but will he ever accept Scorpius? No matter that Scorpius is his nephew’s best friend. Or his daughter’s crush...

 

To his credit, Scorpius has never been anything but respectful towards him. And perhaps a bit fearful, a little to mine – and, I’m sure, dad’s - delight. “Yes, Sir.”

 

“We got it,” I say, and pass around the table a copy of the damned list that dad put in my hands.

 

“We really hope you do,” mom says in encouragement. She sounds so sure of herself that I sit a little taller. “You two are our best chance to get a crack on this case, and we are confident that you’ll deliver.”

 

“Now the rest of you will be divided into two teams. One will be stationed near the Manor as first back-up to Scorpius and Rose, and the second team will operate things from here. Albus, you’re leading the first team along with…”

 

I tune out.

 

I look at Scorpius and Scorpius looks at me. We don’t share words, but I don’t think we need to. With a little nod of our heads and a very furtive smile, the message is clear.

 

Yes, we’ve got this.

 

We think.

 

***

 

After the meeting ends, I gather my belongings from my locker, lost in thought. Everyone was relieved from the briefing a few minutes ago with the exception of the six members of the second team, that are to start working on arrangements here at Headquarters.

 

Most of the rest of us have already left, but I’ve been making time for no reason. Ever since it dawned on me that Scorpius and I will be fake dating, I’ve been nibbling on my bottom lip to the degree of already having drawn blood.

 

I don’t know why I’m suddenly so nervous. If it’s the situation with Scorpius that’s worrying me, the pressure to do well on this mission so we can get a more active role on the team or just my nature, always thinking ahead. Which you know, it’s hard to do when there are so many variables and you just keep on adding to it.

 

Putting on my cloak, I close my eyes for a second, clear my head with an exhale and grab my purse. Closing my locker with a clatter, I put my bag over my shoulder and turn around. And then I scream.

 

“Merlin, Rose!” Scorpius is quick to cover my mouth, and I grunt at the scare. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

“You didn’t scare me,” I mutter as I catch my breath. Thankfully no one else is around to see my silliness. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

 

“Your locker is next to mine,” he points out, and I hate that he’s right. “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” I’m quick to say, and he raises an eyebrow. I hate when he does that too. “I am!”

 

“Alright.” He raises his hands in surrender. He moves to open his locker beside me and get his things. “For a moment I thought you were nervous about the mission.”

 

He doesn’t look at me when he utters it, but I know he’s doing it on purpose. We’re good at saying things without looking each other in the eyes. What does that say about us?

 

“I’m not nervous,” I murmur, twisting the strap of my purse. “I’m just…”

 

“It’s a big mission, I get it.” His tone tells me that he’s being sincere, and still he doesn’t meet my gaze. Why?

 

I watch as he puts on his trench coat, rakes a hand through his white locks and grabs for his things. He takes a moment before closing his locker as well, which is coincidentally strange. By the time he turns around, I’m so lost in him I don’t avert my gaze. But with pretty eyes like that, how could I?

 

“We can do this. Right, Rose?”

 

I nod, but even I can tell it’s not all that assertive. Scorpius chuckles and gets a little closer to me, and I’m again lost in my fascination for our height difference. The spell breaks – or should I say heightens – when I notice he’s too close. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

 

“Say it with me, Rose. We can do this.”

 

I can feel his breath on my lips and I don’t know what on earth has made him bold enough to risk this now, but I can’t help but to answer his command. “We can do this.”

 

“That wasn’t very convincing,” he laughs.

 

To be truthful, I did barely hear myself. “We can do this,” I say more strongly, and his smile makes me grin.

 

“Damn right, we can do this.” I hear the stress of the word but what could he possibly mean? He can’t mean-

 

I’m distracted when he pulls a lock of my fiery hair away from my face and his thumb caresses my cheek. It’s a swift movement, but the burn lingers on my skin even after he’s stopped. “Full disclosure?”

 

What do I say? What does he mean? “Yes.”

 

Scorpius looks from my eyes to my lips, and I think I’ll melt. The mission is going to be pure torture, I bet that that’s what he’s about to tell me.

 

He leans in to whisper in my ear, and I have a hard time keeping my legs from giving out. “I think you’ll look beautiful as a brunette, but I much rather have you as a redhead.” As he steps away, I can at least take victory in that his cheeks are almost as red as my hair. “See you in 36 hours,” he teases with a smirk before leaving.

 

I wasn’t that far off.

 

I remain rooted to the spot for long enough that the second team makes it to the locker room after being dismissed, worrying about whether Scorpius and I are about to play a game or be played by it.