Fic: In Need of Some Good Advice, 4/5 (for Lunalovepotter)
Title: In Need Of Some Good Advice 4/5
Author: birdseyeview
Gift For: lunalovepotter
Summary: Needing help when it comes to his relationship with Rose, Scorpius receives some unsolicited advice from a few unlikely sources.
Rating: NC-17 eventually, PG-13 for this part.
Warnings: British-y profanity, the return of the teenage-boy horniness, angst(!) and (highlight for spoilers) are mentions of Rose/OMC still spoilers? Ok, how about this, I know JKR made Shacklebolt permanent Minister for Magic but I changed it for the sake of the story. I realize this will ruin it for many people. :p
Word Count: 33,274
Author's notes: You asked for: something set at Hogwarts in their sixth or seventh year. Would like to see something with forbidden love, either Scorpius or Rose denying their feelings at first and then giving in. Reactions of Ron and Draco would be ideal, as well. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind when you asked for "forbidden love" but for some reason this is the shape the story took. I hope you like it :D!
Much love to my amazing betas: Liz, Sarah and Mary (not their real names but I'll reveal that later). Without them this would have been 75 pages (that's what MSWord says anyway) of misplaced commas, mangled Britishisms and confused verb tenses. &hearts! Also, several aspects of the story including one joke and two minor characters were inspired by/shamelessly stolen from The Office (US version). So if you catch any similarities, you probably did not imagine them. That, kids, is what happens when you work on fic ideas while watching television!
Sitting on the edge of the fountain, Scorpius found himself struck with the same questions he always was when he saw the fountain: Why couldn't they come up with anything better and why did they leave out the merpeople, again? Like its predecessor, the Fountain of Magical Brethren featured a witch and wizard along with a centaur, goblin and house-elf. As an "improvement" on the first version, the five figures seemed to be in a "V" formation as if setting out to fight together. Naturally, the witch and wizard were in the forefront, leading the way, with the other three figures making up the flank. Yet again, no merpeople had been included and he had never found out why.
"Bit of a crock, isn't it?" Came a familiar voice. He turned and smiled at the witch standing behind him. Dressed elegantly in burgundy robes with heels that made her nearly as tall as Scorpius, her dark hair pulled up and wearing the diamond-and-garnet earrings Dad had bought for her years ago was the person he'd been waiting to see.
"Mum, hey," he said, giving her a hug. Asteria Malfoy kissed his cheek and then, ignoring Scorpius' aggrieved sigh and the eye-rolling that went with it, pulled out a handkerchief to dab at the bit of lipstick she left behind.
"Hello, dearest. I hope you weren't waiting too long?"
"No, I was running late anyway. Ready to go? I got us reservations at Le Plat for dinner."
"You did?" Asteria beamed, those hazel eyes identical to his own suddenly misty. "You and your father spoil me so."
"You deserve it. What did Dad say when you told him?" Scorpius was really curious about how his grandparents would take the news about his mum's promotion. He doubted it, or anything, would be enough to change Grandmother's mind. However, it would be difficult to say Asteria wasn't doing enough to elevate the Malfoy name now that she was Head of the Department of Mysteries.
"That he wanted to take me on a trip somewhere to celebrate. I'm hoping it's Tahiti," she said, sighing softly. "And I believe he already has designs on me becoming the next Minister for Magic."
Scorpius laughed, "Anyone would be better than Fulmar Puffling. The Daily Prophet is calling him the second coming of Fudge."
"I don't think he's quite that hopeless. Though he's no Shacklebolt, I must admit." She paused in their walking, lightly touching his arm as she did. "Do you mind if we sit here a bit. I need a fag and we can't smoke in the lifts."
"No, it's fine." He waited as his mum pulled out a small engraved cigarette case and, using the point of her wand, lit her cigarette. "Stressful day?"
"Not really, unless you count that last meeting which will definitely make or break my career here," she replied, a wry smile playing on her lips. Before he could ask, Asteria added, "If you want to talk about the next Minister for Magic, look no further than Hermione Weasley."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes." Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can't go into details, of course, but I just left a meeting with her. She's about to embark on something quite unprecedented. Should it work out, it would make the perfect stepping stone to that first floor office. Not that she's doing it for that reason, of course."
Now he was dying to know what it was but Scorpius knew he couldn't ask too many questions about his mum's job. "And it involves your department?"
"Not quite. At least not yet. How do I explain this?" She fell quiet for a few moments, gathering her thoughts as she took a drag from her cigarette. "For now we're discussing a sort of quid pro quo arrangement. Unlike the others, the Department of Mysteries doesn't fall under the purview of the Department of Law Enforcement. Something that has always created a fair bit of resentment and friction between the two. For Ms. Weasley's... project, for lack of a better word, she'll need help from the Department of Mysteries. In return, we'll be able to maintain our autonomy but ideally create a more harmonious relationship with her department as well."
He was certain that, should he eventually find out what was transpiring this would make much more sense. For now, however, all Scorpius could do was nod. "Right."
Asteria laughed. "If it works out as planned, you'll probably be reading about it in the papers. And if it doesn't, you definitely will."
"It'll work out in the end."
"Let's hope so." Pulling out a mirror, she Transfigured it into an ashtray, flicking her ashes into there. "They need more ashtrays here. So how are you, dear? You haven't been spending your entire holiday inside that musty old house, have you?"
Scorpius shrugged. "The professors gave us loads of homework. I have three projects due when I return."
None were due right after he returned. Two were due a week after; the third the following week. The work kept him busy though and he was certain when he returned to Hogwarts, he could find something else to take up his time.
His mum looked doubtful. "How are Al and Rose? Haven't seen any owls from them lately."
"Busy. Al's spending the holiday catching up on his coursework." And driving himself barking mad if those last few days before hols were any indication. One way or another, Scorpius was sure his friend would find himself in St. Mungo's when they were done with Hogwarts.
"And Rose?"
Another shrug. "I guess she's busy too." He didn't really know, they hadn't spoken much in the week before Easter break.
Looking at him with concern, Asteria asked, "You two didn't have a falling out, did you?"
That was the problem, he'd spent so little time with Rose these past few weeks he didn't even know if they had and if so, why! Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Not exactly."
"Perhaps you should send her an owl. Or even better, go visit."
"Mum."
"I don't mean to nag. It's just that you and Rose used to be so close, seems odd that you're not keeping in contact. That's all."
There was something in the way she said that, the way she quickly averted her eyes at the last part, that made him suspicious. "You haven't been talking to Grandmother and Grandfather, have you?"
"No more than absolutely necessary, why?"
"So they didn't say anything about..." His voice trailed off as he made a useless gesture with his hands, trying to convey the rest without saying it.
"Anything about what? I'm afraid I'm not following you, dear."
"Nothing, never mind." He really didn't feel like bringing it up again.
"Is this about Rose?"
Pausing where he stood on the stairs, Scorpius turned to look at her. "They did tell you!"
"Tell me what? Scorpius, if every single dinner and shared holidays -" she let out a great sigh with this word " - weren't any indication of the tense relationship I have with your grandparents, then let me make it clear for you: we really don't talk unless absolutely necessary. Now, is there something going on with you and Rose?"
"No." Unfortunately.
As if reading his mind, Asteria gave a small grin. "But you wish there was." The grin disappeared completely a second later, replaced by a look of shock. "You told your grandparents this?"
"No! Not about it being Rose, I mean."
"I should hope not."
"The rest, sort of came up one day when I was talking with Grandfather, then he told Grandmother and how did you know about this if neither told you?"
She gave him a sly look. "Contrary to the old saying, dead men do tell tales."
"What? Really?!" Scorpius couldn't believe that she'd spend her time at work talking about her son but then who knows what spirits want to discuss when you summon them?
"No, of course not. Honestly, dear, don't you think I've noticed the way you talk about her? Or the way you light up whenever she writes" Brushing a stray lock of hair from his eyes, she added, "I don't need any form of Divination to see what's right in front of me."
Cheeks darkening, he ducked his head, pulling away from her. "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter. She's involved with someone else."
"I'm sorry," she said tenderly. "Have you told her how you feel?"
Scorpius' head shot up and he seriously wondered if every single person in his family was incapable of hearing the words “she involved with someone else.” "No. She doesn't feel the same way about me, anyway."
"She's told you this?"
"No, but she's with someone else."
Cigarette finished, Asteria did away with the butt and ashes with a muttered, "Evanesco" then turned the ashtray back to its original form. They sat in silence for a few moments and one look told him his mum was choosing her next words carefully. "I realize this is something you've given a lot of thought to and I have no doubt you know Rose's heart better than I, but are you certain not telling her is the wisest course?"
"It won't change anything."
She seemed to consider this. "Maybe, maybe not. I can't promise anything of course when it comes to her feelings but maybe it will help you."
He could not fathom how it could possibly help to tell Rose how he felt and have her reject him. Something that must have been evident from the look of disbelief on his face because Asteria clarified. "You won't have 'what if' hanging over your head. At the very least, you can know you tried."
After all this time, that's what it really came down to, wasn't it? He couldn't moon after Rose forever, he had to do something. "I suppose you're right." Standing, he held out a hand to help her. "Ready to leave?"
Nodding, she took his hand and rose to her feet. Pausing for a moment, she gave him a fond look. "I know I'm biased but I must say, she'd be mad not to feel the same way about you."
"You sound like Grandmother. She said the same thing, you know."
Entering the lift first, Asteria turned towards her son, wrinkling her nose at his comment. "How eerie."
"Maybe you both have more in common than you thought," Scorpius said, following her inside.
Asteria huffed lightly at this, the clang of the lift gate nearly drowning out her next words. "As long as our similarities begin and end with you, I suppose I will manage."
~~~~~~~~
Normally, Scorpius was thrilled when Professor Longbottom asked him to help in the greenhouses. They were his among his favorite places in Hogwarts and to be allowed to work in greenhouse four, where only the most dangerous plants were kept, was an honor. Today, however, it was drudgery pure and simple. Along with the Devil's Snare and mature Mandrakes usually found in this greenhouse, was a new shipment of Solomon Islands Sneezepalm saplings that needed planting. When fully grown their palms, oil, and bark could be used in a variety of mixtures from Doxycide to a Blood-Replenishing Potion. They also grew attractive pink blooms that sneezed twice a day, letting loose pollen and gas. In high doses the gas could cause a person to fall into a coma or even die.
These plants weren't mature enough to be a danger to him. Scorpius' problem with the Sneezepalms was that, being tropical, they required the greenhouse to be kept warm and humid. Outside the greenhouse it was a typical cold and rainy April afternoon, but inside it was sweltering. Despite having stripped off his robe and t-shirt, he was still unbearably hot with his hair plastered to his forehead and the sweat stinging his eyes. Previous attempts to both push his hair back and wipe the sweat from his brow had left him with a dirty smudge just below his hairline.
When the final sapling was planted, Scorpius brushed the dirt from his gloves and sat on the ground to rest. Along with planting the Sneezepalms, he had volunteered to trim the Devil's Snare, taking pride in the fact that he was one of the few people (and the only student) trusted to do so.
Maybe after he had finished school, he could take up an apprenticeship here at Hogwarts. He was wealthy enough already to have several of his own greenhouses but working at Hogwarts would help him build a reputation as well as a resumé.
The creak of the door opening and the refreshing cool breeze that followed stirred Scorpius from his thoughts. Expecting Professor Longbottom, he stood, picking up his t-shirt as he did. "I finished planting the--"
It was Rose. Her eyes flickered quickly from his bare torso to his eyes, her own face already flushed. "Professor Longbottom said you'd be here. I passed by him on the way and mentioned I was looking for you and he said to look in the greenhouse. And here you are. It's hot in here, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is." His own reply was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. The second his head emerged, Rose looked away quickly, eyeing the table full of Mandrakes.
"Are their pots supposed to be shaking like that?"
"Mating season." Adults now, several of the Mandrakes had moved into each others' pots to do what mature Mandrakes did.
"Oh! I forgot about that," she said, face still pink right up to her ears and loosening her tie.
"Do you want to step outside, get some air?"
"Could we? I think I'm about to melt!"
"It's normally not so bad," he said, following her towards the door. "We received a new shipment of Sneezepalms today and I offered to plant them."
"Those are tropical, yeah?"
"From the South Pacific," he affirmed with a nod. The rain had stopped, leaving the sky gray and overcast and the air cool enough to prickle his skin. Leaning against the door, he inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet smell of fresh cut grass. After an hour in that greenhouse, this brief respite was just what he had needed.
"Listen," Rose began, breaking the silence, "about what happened at the Three Broomsticks, Duncan was completely out of line and he knows it."
"Does he?"
"Yes. We talked about it and he didn't mean what he said."
Scorpius snorted at this, not believing it for a moment. Still not looking at her, he said sofly, "So he sent you to tell me?"
"That's not it--"
Turning towards her, he spoke in crisp, cool tones. "Well, you can let Duncan know that I meant everything I said. He should be grateful the Cannons don't ask for a refund."
"Don't be like this! It's been very difficult for Duncan this past year; traveling all the time, in the news constantly, and all the pressure to win when that coach of theirs is obviously incompetent--"
Something between a sigh and a growl escaped his throat. "Are you done!? Because I'd rather listen to an uprooted Mandrake than hear about the trials and tribulations of your Quidditch star boyfriend."
Rose's face fell at this and for that brief second he was tempted to apologize. Crossing her arms, she regarded him in silence. "He's jealous."
"What?" He blinked, wondering if he misheard. "Jealous? Of what? Me?"
"You. Us. It's been difficult. He's gone so often with the team, we don't get to see each other much."
Not sure what to say, he just raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
"I told him he had no reason to worry, there's nothing going on between us," she said softly, eyes on the ground and absently wringing her hands. "I don't know how he got this idea in his head. I'm about as likely to run off with you as I am Al or James!"
The words hit him like a Bludger. He wanted to yell that he wasn't her cousin, that maybe her idiot boyfriend was jealous because Scorpius was in love with her. He wanted to but he didn't, instead remaining quiet.
Rose sighed. "Not that it excuses what he said." When his only response to this was to cross his arms, she threw her hands up in the air. "Blimey, Scorpius, are you ever going to talk?!"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Anything!" she exclaimed. "I've missed you," she added, her voice small. "Despite you acting like you have a broomstick up your arse at the moment."
"I haven't been avoiding you."
"I wasn't avoiding you! Not exactly," she hedged, playing with her hands again. "I haven't been doing so great in Transfiguration. Failed the last test. And I have a huge essay for Muggle Studies that I haven't even begun. That's really why I wanted to see you."
Scorpius furrowed his brow. "You're better at writing essays than I am."
"I know I am. But for research, I need to go to Muggle London."
"To the museum?"
"Yeah. The Imperial War Museum. I know you've been there before and figured it would be something you like, Muggle history and all. The exhibit I need to see won't be happening until mid-May."
"Isn't that cutting it close to the end of the year?"
Shrugging, Rose gave a half-grin. "I do my best work in a crunch."
"If you say so."
"So will you come with me?"
It would be so easy (and so satisfying to his wounded pride) to tell her no, to say he was busy, to avoid her in return. One look at her hopeful face though and Scorpius knew he couldn't. "Sure. Haven't been to Muggle London in ages anyway."
Her face broke into a smile, a flash of uncertainty playing across her features before Rose launched herself at him, hugging Scorpius tightly. Holding her in his arms, he felt better than he had in a while. Worried he would get lost in the feel of her against him, the smell of her hair and the warmth of her skin, he let go first. Smiling awkwardly, he tilted his head towards the greenhouse. "I should get back inside. I still have a few more things to do."
"I should get going anyway. Al's waiting for me. We're going to study together." A look that could only be described as mild nausea came over Rose. "He drew up this entire schedule for me and he's being a total nag about me following it. I know it's crackers but I'm really starting to think he's the bastard child of my mum and Uncle Percy."
Scorpius laughed. "Have fun."
"You too."
~~~~~~~~
Far as the eye could see it was clear blue skies with the occasional fluffy white cloud here and there. A steady breeze kept it from being too warm though the mid-afternoon sun was bright and Scorpius was certain he'd have a sunburn tomorrow. Didn't matter, he wouldn't dream of forfeiting this game. That canny part of his brain - the one that looked at every angle and (very possibly was) the (only) reason he was in Slytherin - wondered if letting Rose win wouldn't be a prudent move. But Scorpius couldn't do that. This was a matter of pride and he was just not going to give this up without a fight.
Doing a slow spin on her broom, Rose threw her arms up in the air. “Bloody hell, where is that stupid thing?!”
Not that any of his competitive posturing would mean anything if he couldn't actually find the Snitch. Two hours ago they'd given up on their still-unsuccessful prank planning to play a game of “Catch the Snitch”. Two hours and they hadn't caught a glimpse of the damned thing in over an hour. He was starting to wonder if maybe an owl hadn't caught it, thinking it was a bird.
“Real wonder neither of us made Seeker, eh?” he said, easily floating over to where she was.
Rose grinned at him, her cheeks and nose dark pink from the sun. “I never wanted to be Seeker. Too much pressure.”
“I did. Or I thought I did.” Arriving at Hogwarts, Scorpius had intended to be Seeker for Slytherin, just like his dad before him. The idea of the game hinging on him seemed terribly exciting, the only way to play it. When he hadn't made it, he'd been crushed.
Until he played his first game and discovered that being Chaser was just as exciting and far less nerve-wracking.
“You would have made a good Seeker. You're a fast flier.”
“Broom does most of that,” Scorpius said, shrugging. “I don't think I would have. It seems to rely too much on chance, on seeing the Snitch at the right moment. I couldn't stand that.”
“You have a point.” Rose nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think we still would be friends if we were both Seeker? In direct competition with each other all the time? Mowbray and Smith don't get along and I don't think Flint and Smith do either, do they?”
“That's because Smith is a jerk,” he answered matter-of-factly. “And Chasers and Keepers face-off with each other, just like the Seekers do. But after years of me trying to get my Quaffle into your hoop, we're still friends.”
It took a second for the unintended second meaning of that sentence to hit them both. Rose threw her head back, laughing loudly while Scorpius went even pinker.
Waggling her eyebrows and gripping the handle of her broom in a suggestive way as she steered over to him, Rose teased, “This is why I must guard my hoop from you roguish Chasers.” She bumped his broom with hers as she moved past. “You don't care where you put your Quaffles!”
Thanks to the topic of conversation and the way she was sitting on the broom, he couldn't help staring, if only for a second, at her cute little arse. She turned suddenly and his eyes flew up to her face. “I now have the urge to write a story using Quidditch as a metaphor for love and sex.”
“What happened to that story you were writing? The one with the Squib who discovered he had magical ability later in life? That was good.”
Scrunching her face and waving her hand, Rose made some non-committal noise. “It needs work.”
“I thought you were nearly done with it.”
“I've been busy with things.” In an obvious attempt to change the subject, she asked, “Do you think it would be too much like James and Fred's prank if we switched the classrooms around. Like Divination with Herbology?”
“Yes.” Which was the same answer he gave the first time she had asked this question. “And we'd have to find out how they did it which would mean asking them--”
Rose shook her head. “Aunt Audrey helped them. Not intentionally, but it had to be her. She's the architect, she'd be the one who would know how to move all the common room furniture around without much fuss and how to make Slytherin's common room look like Hufflepuff's. And to turn Gryffindor Tower into the Slytherin dungeons?” Twisting her mouth as she thought about it, Rose murmured, “Turning Ravenclaw's common room into Gryffindor's would have been easier, compared to the other but they had a lot of help with what charms to use and all that.”
“Brilliant prank.” And damn near impossible to beat.
Like she was reading his mind, Rose tilted her head and sighed, “We're never going to top that, are we?”
“Looking less and less likely.”
Both mourning their dream of pulling off a prank greater than last year's, the two fell silent. Rose made wide, lazy loops around Scorpius and he wondered if she was trying to distract him. (If so, she was somewhat successful, as he once again admired the way her long legs looked wrapped around the broom.)
“Know what your story needs?” he asked suddenly, grinning as he did.
Raising an eyebrow, she took the bait. “What's that?”
“A brave Herbologist to save the day.”
“An Herbologist?”
“Very underrated profession. Every story would be improved with a tall, dashing intelligent Herbologist at the center of it.”
Rose seemed to consider this before shaking her head. “It's too much work thinking up an entirely new character to throw into the mix.”
“Base it on someone you know,” he said, grinning as he passed in front of her.
“A brave, tall, dashing, intelligent Herbologist to save the day?” she repeated doubtfully.
“I'm sure you can think of someone.”
“I can but Professor Longbottom usually shies away from such attention,” she replied earnestly, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I don't know if he'd appreciate that.”
“You know too many brave, dashing Herbologists.”
“Do I?”
Starting to think his “owl ate the Snitch” theory had some weight to it, he stopped in front of her. “Seriously, am I ever--”
There, behind Rose and just a few meters away, fluttering its wings, was the Snitch. His eyes met hers. Sensing what had happened, she whipped her head around to look. Scorpius was too fast for her though, flying past her as he raced after the Snitch. Rose kept close behind him, though; and hoping to lose her, he made a sharp feint left. She started to follow but realizing what he was doing, righted herself.
Looking up in time to see the Snitch nearly within Rose's grasp, Scorpius dove right. He sailed underneath her and just as her fingers touched its wings, he reached up and grabbed the Snitch. Scorpius laughed at her frustrated growl, flashing the small golden ball out to her as he flew by.
Trailing after him, as soon as they landed Rose grumbled,“Yeah, you win, Malfoy. What are your terms?”
“I almost forgot about that,” he said brightly. Before the game, they had made a bet, loser had to do whatever the winner asked.
“Sure.”
“I did!”
Rose crossed her arms, waiting impatiently.
The problem was, the things he wanted, he couldn't ask for. Not as part of their bet. He couldn't ask her to kiss him or to dump her idiot boyfriend. He could maybe get away with asking for the first if they weren't good friends, but even then it was sketchy...
“Scorpius?” she looked at him with concern.
“Notes,” he answered automatically.
“What?”
“I want your notes, till the end of term, for all the classes we have together.”
“I don't take notes.”
“Good time to start.”
“That's it?”
“Yeah.” He moved the Snitch between his hands as its moving wings started to tickle his palms. “Do you want more?”
“No. That's fine.” She picked up her broom and he followed suit, falling in step with her. “Nicer than I was going to be with you, that's all.”
“Is that so? And what were you planning?”
“I was going to make you run a lap around the Great Hall during dinner.”
Before he could ask, she grinned over her shoulder. “Starkers.”
~~~~~~~~
In the precious little free time we have, I've taken to reflection. My mind wanders back to that night we spent near the lake and those last tender moments we had together. Everything I confessed, all the promises made, I hold to still. God, country, and king: none of these are enough to give me courage as I spend another night, wet and freezing in a trench. None hold any meaning when all I see, smell, breathe, eat is slaughter and death.
Only you save me from those lonely moments of despair, only you are that lifeline back.
I fight for no god, no nation and no crown. I fight to make a world that is worthy of you.
Beside him, Scorpius could hear Rose sniffling. Surprised, he turned in time to see her head down as she focused on her notebook, writing down notes with her “bick." Her hand trembled slightly and her eyes looked red. He could tell from the way her shoulders tensed that Rose knew he was watching her, so he quietly looked away.
She'd been acting oddly the entire trip. Distracted, almost nervous but she never gave a reason. Scorpius knew her well enough to know she was upset about something. While sentimental, she didn't normally cry that easily and whenever she wasn't writing, she was playing with her hands. Threading them together, squeezing her fingers and sometimes wringing them as she looked off in the distance. He had asked her repeatedly if something was wrong and every time she gave the same answer.
He wondered if it was the exhibit: a collection of letters between soldiers from the “World Wars” and their loved ones. Next to each letter was information about the soldiers, the ones who died, the ones who returned to an empty house, and the few who went on to have happy lives. It certainly cast a pall over his mood.
But that wasn't it, because she'd been acting this way from the moment they met at the Leaky Cauldron.
(The devil inside him hoped she was having problems with Finnigan. He wasn't proud of this but the feeling remained.)
She had dressed a bit nicer than usual for the trip. Most of the time, she favored casual clothing; and aside from that one glorious day early last summer when he'd seen her in a bikini, she almost always wore trousers or denims. For all their previous trips to Muggle London, she had dressed the same as she always did, though maybe more conservatively - often in black, but Muggles seemed to wear that color a lot, he'd noticed. They all looked like they were going to a funeral.
Today, she wore a floral-patterned cream-colored dress that came to her knee and delicate sandals that had a bit of a heel. Her hair was loose, she wore a thin golden bracelet on her left wrist, and even looked to be wearing make-up. It was almost as if she were going somewhere, but when he asked what was the occasion, she had simply blushed and muttered something about “wanting to wear a dress once in a while”.
It was completely baffling.
And completely distracting.
Scorpius had enough trouble keeping his eyes off her when she was wearing her school robes. When she was dressed like this, he constantly found his attention traveling to the milky white skin of her legs and the curves hinted at underneath the thin material of her dress. His gaze wandered to the flimsy wisps of material that made up the sleeves of the dress, and the dusting of freckles on her shoulders. How Scorpius wanted to push the straps of her dress aside and kiss her just there.
With a sinking stomach he realized Rose had gone completely still. He could see his reflection in the glass of the exhibit that she stood before, which meant Rose had been watching him stare at her. Their eyes met and they both looked away.
Turning to look at another letter, Scorpius said without looking at Rose, “Too bad Al couldn't come, he likes museums.”
“I know. I went to ask him, but he was busy.”
“What now?” On safe ground now, Scorpius shook his head. “At this rate, he'll be going to St. Mungo's as a patient and not a Healer.”
“I told him that. He agreed!”
“At least he's not gone completely around the bend.”
Another thought came to him - or returned, since it was one he'd had before but never voiced. Moving closer to where Rose stood so they wouldn't be overheard, he asked softly, “Do you ever think that maybe because of who Al's parents are - who his dad is - that Al is trying to live up to that?”
All previous uncertainty disappeared from Rose as she looked at him, a sardonic grin curving her mouth. “You just noticed that?”
“No. I just never said it before.”
“That's a big part of it. Looking like an exact replica of Uncle Harry sans scar doesn't help.” Blowing out a breath she'd been holding, Rose looked up at him. “Maybe that's all of us. James wanted to be an Auror all his life because his dad was one and when he grew up he 'wanted to beat up Voldemort too.' Hugo wants to improve Muggle-Wizard relations because that's important to our mum. Lily wants to play professional Quidditch just like her mum.”
“And you?”
“I don't know,” she said forlornly. “I want to write but I don't want to be a journalist like Aunt Ginny. My parents keep telling me about these job openings with the Daily Prophet or The Quibbler, or they mention PR jobs with the Ministry, and none of it is what I want to do. I'm not against doing it. I'd just like to go through the miserable, fruitless agony of trying to be a real writer first before I give up and do something sane.”
He snorted. “At least you have a plan.”
“Not that my mum cares. I know she only wants the best for me and is worried I'll wind up living at home till I'm thirty, but sometimes she drives me up the wall,” Rose said, voice rising in pitch with each word. “My dad is marginally better. Usually. But he doesn't get it either. I think Hugo is more what they were expecting when it came to children. Or hoping for. Eugh, that sounds whiny.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it's true?” In the same breath she added, “Oh, you mean the hoping for part? They always thought that because I was 'so intelligent' I'd accomplish the sorts of thing my mum did. I can't do that. I have no idea how she and Dad did that. If I'd had to face-off against a Dark Lord at seventeen, I'd die and probably get a few people killed in the process. I'm the same girl who was still getting lost on the way to Potions well into my second year.”
“You don't know that for certain. Your parents did what they did because they had to--”
“I know, I know.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Rose taking notes while he stood beside her, looking at the exhibits. Scorpius wondered if her discomfort earlier had anything to do with her parents and her future. She'd been the most animated he'd seen all day when talking about that.
“Did you know the Daily Prophet was desperate for pictures of us - the Potter and Weasley kids - before we were born?”
He raised an eyebrow. The more he thought about it, the less surprising he found it. “How desperate?”
“They were stalking Aunt Ginny before James' birth. Those last few weeks, she tried to stay by the house and not go out in public much to avoid the press. So they offered a thousand Galleons for the first picture of him. Later, it was five hundred for Al and Lily.” He didn't get a chance to ask before she said, “Hugo and I only fetched a hundred Galleons a piece.”
“Any takers?”
“Not for James. People thought it all in bad taste. But by the time Al and I rolled around, they weren't so hung-up. No one got a picture of Al, Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry were prepared by then. They got pictures of me, Hugo, and Lily however. And pictures of random babies they tried to pass off as us. Then there were the babies that women tried to pass off as Uncle Harry's.” Rose rolled her eyes. “One woman drew a little lightning scar on her child, like it was genetic!”
Scorpius laughed at this but his amusement soon died when he remembered something. “When I was born...” he paused, not wanting to seem like he was competing with her.
“Yeah?”
“When I was born my grandparents, my grandfather mostly, insisted on having a huge announcement in the Daily Prophet. Almost took up the entire page. A few days after it was published, my mum received an anonymous letter. It said that the entire Malfoy line was poisoned with bad blood and if there was any justice my grandparents and dad would be rotting in Hell for their crimes.” He took a deep breath, almost wishing he never said anything. “It also said that their bad blood should die with them and that it would be 'better for the world' if someone strangled me in my crib to ensure that.”
Well, if the letters from dead soldiers hadn't made this a depressing trip, Scorpius was certain he had.
Rose was aghast. “That's awful,” she said, sounding dazed. “I don't know how people can... Did they learn nothing from the war? How do you even say those things or write those things--”
“It's not a big deal--”
“It is a big deal! There's no excuse for that! You were just a baby, you can't be held responsible for what your family did--”
“A lot of people disagree with you there,” he scoffed.
Rose frowned. “Wait, did your mum tell you this?”
“No. It was my grandmother, maternal grandmother. She, er,” he waffled, knowing what he would say next was just going to make it worse. It was the truth, however. “She wanted me to know what kind of people my dad and his parents were. To understand why she and my grandfather didn't like them and why a lot of people didn't like them.”
Rose shook her head. “She... That's wrong.”
“I think she thought it was the right thing to do--”
“How could it--”
“She wanted me to be prepared for what people would say.”
Nothing more was said about that. Rose bit her tongue as Scorpius remembered another good reason not to bring these things up was so he didn't have to think about them.
Noticing Rose was hugging herself, he asked, “Are you cold?” The Muggle version of cooling charms - their “eragon dishner” - kept the whole museum at something just above “frosty."
“I'm fine, but we should get going,” she replied, tapping her notebook. “I have everything I need.”
He nodded and followed her lead as they made their way through the museum. Realizing he never got an answer to his question, Scorpius asked, “So what was Al so busy with that he couldn't come visit with us?”
Rose paused in her step, her shoulders tensing. “Er, he, er agreed to tutor some students in Potions. He was with a bunch of sixth-years when I saw him.”
“What were they working on?”
“Amortentia,” she said, tucking a few curls behind her ear. “Some had problems brewing it.”
“That's a fun one.”
“Have you brewed it before?”
“No, but last year I had to talk to Bletchley about something after class one day. I went to her office and she was holding a small tutoring session, they were working on that.”
Rose nodded, nervously twining her fingers together and not looking at him. “So, er, what did it smell like?”
“Erm,” he swallowed. “I don't remember exactly. It was a while ago. I think it was fresh cut grass after rain, the sweets my parents send me every month, and er, a pumpkin sort of smell.”
“Pumpkin?” She looked at him with keen interest and Scorpius felt his heart pound. This would be the perfect time to tell her. Maybe not the perfect place, but this was an opening might not get again.
“Yeah, pumpkin. Like... the juice? And tarts. All the pumpkin-based Hogwarts food...” Scorpius wondered if a bigger coward than he had ever existed.
“Right. Hogwarts.”
“What did it smell like for you?”
“Me?” He noticed Rose's ears were red and maybe she did too, because she ran her hand through her hair, causing it to fall forward and obscure them. “Er, ink and bacon--”
“There's a surprise.”
She smiled wanly but only for a moment, her expression fading with the next words. Looking anxiously at him, Rose continued, “And a sort of earthy, woodsy smell.”
That made sense, he supposed. She loved to spend time outside almost as much as he did and Scorpius knew one of her biggest desires was to go camping. (Something her parents had always refused.) Best of all, he couldn't see any way it related to Finnigan! “Nice scent.”
“Yeah.” Rose looked ahead. “It is.”
~~~~~~~~
Nearly a year after they first set out to best James and Fred's prank, Rose and Scorpius found they had hit a brick wall. Nothing they could think of was appropriately brilliant enough, original enough, and funny enough to meet their goal. Therefore, two weeks before the end of term, they decided to go with the idea that had seemed like the most fun. And would also be the easiest to pull off.
Scorpius looked up as another one exploded, this one a large green dragon that breathed “fire”, orange and red sparks shooting from its mouth.
After about thirty minutes or so, the professors stopped trying to vanquish the fireworks. It was the night before they left school and, unlike the last time fireworks had been set off on Hogwarts, these were at least outside. As were most of the students and faculty. Students had brought down sheets to serve as picnic blankets as they dined on food smuggled from the kitchen. Some were even roasting sausages and marshmallows over the fire Hagrid had built. Their professors stood around talking and watching the fireworks, a few holding bottles of Butterbeer. Music from several different wireless radios mingled with the explosions of the fireworks and the chatter around him. Looking around, Scorpius had to admit this had gone better than he had expected.
Al nudged him in the side. “How long are these going to last?”
“Another hour? Hour and a half?” Scorpius looked at Rose for confirmation. She nodded.
Leaning against the tree, Rose closed her eyes. “Relax Al, exams are over. You're free!”
“I just need to know all my marks,” he said, scanning the crowd. “I've already spoken with Longbottom, Gobbo, Bletchley, and MacDuff, and I'm good for all their classes. All that leaves is--”
His voice trailed off as he spotted something, or someone, talking with Hagrid and Sprout. Following his gaze, Scorpius soon spotted the pink-cheeked, black-haired Defense Against the Dark Arts professor standing near the bonfire.
“Got to go,” Al said, hurrying over towards her.
“Poor Al,” Rose said, eyes still closed.
“Don't you mean poor Professor Jones?”
“Touché.”
Things had been strange between them the past few weeks. Scorpius almost had the feeling Rose was hiding something from him. At times, he'd catch her watching him and sometimes it seemed like she wanted to say something. When he asked though, she always insisted otherwise, ears turning red as she did.
“Weasley. Malfoy.” Corny Fenton stood in front of them, a smug smile on his face. Beside him was Imogen Dogberry, looking as sour-faced as ever. Scorpius expected Corny to announce that he knew they were behind the fireworks, that he'd decided to somehow give them detention tomorrow or even to tell them exactly how many “Outstandings” he received on his N.E.W.T.'s.
He didn't expect what Corny actually said. “Nice job on the fireworks.”
Dogberry smiled tightly, looking more pleased with what Corny than with what he said. Rose smiled brightly. “Thank you! Have a great summer.”
And the pair walked away.
Scorpius looked over at Rose. “Mind telling me what happened here?”
“They liked our fireworks,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “And a few weeks, ago I caught him and Dogberry snogging in the empty Transfiguration classroom when they were supposed to be out on rounds.”
“Corny and Dogberry,” Scorpius repeated.
“I think they've been together since Christmas.”
“You didn't tell me!”
“I didn't know for certain myself until a few weeks ago.” Rose protested.
“You didn't tell me about that either!” Scorpius now wondered if the two had really been patrolling the corridor around the Room of Requirement or if they wanted to use the room themselves. “So does that explain why you've been acting so distant lately?” he joked. “Still traumatized from what you saw?”
Eyes not meeting his, Rose looked down at her entwined hands. “I haven't been acting distant.”
He opened his mouth to argue but didn't get the chance.
“ROSIE!”
Roxanne and Lily, along with their fellow Gryffindors Hero Bertram and Miranda Goodfellow, descended upon them. Miranda pushed Hero forward, the shorter girl nearly falling when she did. “Tell Rose what you told me.”
“Tell me what?”
“I'm not supposed to tell anyone,” she said in a low voice. “But my dad, he owns the jewelry shop, yeah? My dad owled me to tell me that they had a rather famous customer in last night. A certain Quidditch player?”
“Duncan?” Rose asked. Scorpius felt slightly ill, not liking where this was headed.
Hero nodded emphatically. “He was in looking for rings. Engagement rings.”
“The note didn't say engagement rings,” Lily interjected.
The other girl looked indignant. “It said he looked at women's rings and that he specifically wanted to see their selection of diamond, pearl, and ruby rings!”
“Pearl for your birthday obviously,” Roxanne noted helpfully.
“I figured,” Rose said flatly.
“Diamonds are really popular thanks to Muggles,” Hero stated. “Daddy says he sells more and more diamond rings every year.”
“And rubies are popular with Gryffindors,” Miranda chirped. “I never really cared for them myself, to be honest.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “That doesn't mean anything! It might be just be for her birthday. It might not even be for Rose! It could be for his mum--”
“Of course it's for Rose!” Roxanne exclaimed. “They've been going out for eighteen months now, she's finished with Hogwarts and she's going to have a birthday soon. All signs point to Rose.”
“This is so exciting!” Miranda squealed, causing the others to giggle. The conversation soon devolved into the three girls planning the impending (though-not-yet-existent) nuptials of Rose and Duncan. Every once in a while Lily would argue that it was all ridiculous and that nothing had even happened yet, but the chatter continued.
Like himself, Rose was quiet, every so often glancing around nervously and smiling thinly at the talk about her. Her inability to sit still, to stop wringing her hands, to not continually look around as if she wanted to escape, reminded Scorpius of a caged animal.
“Your dad will be so happy,” Hero said, clasping her hands together. “He really likes Duncan, doesn't he? That's a good sign.”
“Uncle Ron will be most excited about the prospect of season tickets to the Cannons's games!” Roxanne teased.
If he listened to any more of this, Scorpius was certain he would be ill. Standing up, he announced, “I'm getting something to drink,” and didn't wait for a response.
He got one anyway. Rose shot up from her seat beneath the tree. “I'll join you.”
Not expecting this, he looked over his shoulder, but Rose moved too fast, already beside him then walking in front of Scorpius to where the Butterbeers were. With fluid movements she grabbed two, tossed one to him and opened hers with her hand, clearly in no mood to bother with her wand. Scorpius watched avidly as she drank hers like she'd spent the bulk of the day wandering the Gobi with no water, her head tipped back as she took a long drink.
He tore his eyes away, looking down at his bottle and feeling rather parched himself now.
“I want to travel,” Rose gasped when she came up for air. “I want to go on gondola rides through Venice and ride across the Sahara on camel-back and go deep-sea diving like the Muggles do in the Great Barrier Reef. I don't even know if I want to live in England all my life, but I want to write, and if I want to have any hope of being good at that, I need to live and I really haven't done anything interesting or worthwhile. When they were my age, my mum and dad had saved the Wizarding World a few times over, and all I've managed to do is not fail any of my classes!”
Unsure what to do, Scorpius nodded not that Rose seemed to notice this. “First it's marriage, then I have to stay in one place because it's hard to build a home if you're both constantly in different places at the same time - and let's face it, that usually falls to the woman.” Even with the empty Butterbeer bottle between them, Rose wrung her hands. “Next thing you know, there will be kids, and I'll have to postpone my dreams even longer.”
Pacing back and forth now, she continued, confessing, “I sent that Squib story to a few magazines. I've never tried to get anything published before, not really anyway, not beyond The Herald, which doesn't count.”
“What did they say?”
“They all rejected it.”
“I'm sorry--”
“I'm not! That's what I'm trying to say. I think.” Rose shook her head. “I never really expected it to get published. I wanted it but I didn't seriously think it would happen. And the letters were pretty nice, for the most part. Two told me to 'keep writing,' and that's what you want to hear in a rejection letter.” She looked off towards the lake, wordless for a moment before turning to look at Scorpius. “I needed to know. I couldn't stand always wondering and never knowing if I had let a chance slip by me. I think if I were to settle down now, I'd live the rest of my life with a big 'what if' hanging over my head.”
Sighing, shoulders slumped, Rose looked at him with pleading brown eyes. “Does any of that makes sense?”
“All of it.” Keenly aware now of what his mum had been saying, Scorpius knew this was the chance he'd been hoping for. She was so close, he could feel the heat from her skin, and she was still smiling at him, that soft look in her eyes.
Without thinking it through any more (he'd wasted too much time thinking), Scorpius cupped her chin and bent down. He paused for a second when she gave a small gasp, but when she didn't move away, he kissed her. The first was dry and chaste, just a brush of his lips against hers. The second wasn't, it was her sighing into his mouth and him sliding his tongue against hers.
When Rose pulled away, he dropped his hands as if he'd been burned. “We... I should...”
“Wait, wait.” Scorpius grabbed her wrist, his hold on it light and loose. “It's... I love you, Rose.”
“What?”
“I'm in love with you.” He let go of her, shoving his hands in his pockets. Rose looked stunned. Scorpius was rather surprised he'd said it too, after so many months of just thinking it and agonizing over it, and now he'd done it. “You really didn't know?”
“I didn't...” Rose shook her head, her words dying.
“I've wanted to tell you for a long time. I wanted to know if you felt the same way. Or could feel the same way.” She didn't. Scorpius was no Legilimens and he didn't expect her to swoon into his arms, but one look told him she didn't reciprocate his feelings.
Lips pursed in a tight line, Rose shook her head again. “I do care about you, Scorpius. You're one of my best friends, you're--”
“Don't.”As a heavy weight settled in his chest, his throat tightened and Scorpius felt as if he could hardly draw breath for the next words. “I'm not your cousin or your brother and I don't want to be just your friend--”
“What do you want me to say? You can't--”
“Nothing,” he said thickly. “You don't have to say anything.”
“Oi! There you are,” Al called, walking over to where the unhappy couple stood, Lily in step with him. “Good news! I...”
Lily stopped him. “Maybe we should come back later.”
“No, it's fine,” Scorpius answered, careful not to look at them. “I was just leaving.”
Walking off towards the castle, his only comfort was that after tomorrow he would never have to see Rose Weasley again.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Five
Author: birdseyeview
Gift For: lunalovepotter
Summary: Needing help when it comes to his relationship with Rose, Scorpius receives some unsolicited advice from a few unlikely sources.
Rating: NC-17 eventually, PG-13 for this part.
Warnings: British-y profanity, the return of the teenage-boy horniness, angst(!) and (highlight for spoilers) are mentions of Rose/OMC still spoilers? Ok, how about this, I know JKR made Shacklebolt permanent Minister for Magic but I changed it for the sake of the story. I realize this will ruin it for many people. :p
Word Count: 33,274
Author's notes: You asked for: something set at Hogwarts in their sixth or seventh year. Would like to see something with forbidden love, either Scorpius or Rose denying their feelings at first and then giving in. Reactions of Ron and Draco would be ideal, as well. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind when you asked for "forbidden love" but for some reason this is the shape the story took. I hope you like it :D!
Much love to my amazing betas: Liz, Sarah and Mary (not their real names but I'll reveal that later). Without them this would have been 75 pages (that's what MSWord says anyway) of misplaced commas, mangled Britishisms and confused verb tenses. &hearts! Also, several aspects of the story including one joke and two minor characters were inspired by/shamelessly stolen from The Office (US version). So if you catch any similarities, you probably did not imagine them. That, kids, is what happens when you work on fic ideas while watching television!
Sitting on the edge of the fountain, Scorpius found himself struck with the same questions he always was when he saw the fountain: Why couldn't they come up with anything better and why did they leave out the merpeople, again? Like its predecessor, the Fountain of Magical Brethren featured a witch and wizard along with a centaur, goblin and house-elf. As an "improvement" on the first version, the five figures seemed to be in a "V" formation as if setting out to fight together. Naturally, the witch and wizard were in the forefront, leading the way, with the other three figures making up the flank. Yet again, no merpeople had been included and he had never found out why.
"Bit of a crock, isn't it?" Came a familiar voice. He turned and smiled at the witch standing behind him. Dressed elegantly in burgundy robes with heels that made her nearly as tall as Scorpius, her dark hair pulled up and wearing the diamond-and-garnet earrings Dad had bought for her years ago was the person he'd been waiting to see.
"Mum, hey," he said, giving her a hug. Asteria Malfoy kissed his cheek and then, ignoring Scorpius' aggrieved sigh and the eye-rolling that went with it, pulled out a handkerchief to dab at the bit of lipstick she left behind.
"Hello, dearest. I hope you weren't waiting too long?"
"No, I was running late anyway. Ready to go? I got us reservations at Le Plat for dinner."
"You did?" Asteria beamed, those hazel eyes identical to his own suddenly misty. "You and your father spoil me so."
"You deserve it. What did Dad say when you told him?" Scorpius was really curious about how his grandparents would take the news about his mum's promotion. He doubted it, or anything, would be enough to change Grandmother's mind. However, it would be difficult to say Asteria wasn't doing enough to elevate the Malfoy name now that she was Head of the Department of Mysteries.
"That he wanted to take me on a trip somewhere to celebrate. I'm hoping it's Tahiti," she said, sighing softly. "And I believe he already has designs on me becoming the next Minister for Magic."
Scorpius laughed, "Anyone would be better than Fulmar Puffling. The Daily Prophet is calling him the second coming of Fudge."
"I don't think he's quite that hopeless. Though he's no Shacklebolt, I must admit." She paused in their walking, lightly touching his arm as she did. "Do you mind if we sit here a bit. I need a fag and we can't smoke in the lifts."
"No, it's fine." He waited as his mum pulled out a small engraved cigarette case and, using the point of her wand, lit her cigarette. "Stressful day?"
"Not really, unless you count that last meeting which will definitely make or break my career here," she replied, a wry smile playing on her lips. Before he could ask, Asteria added, "If you want to talk about the next Minister for Magic, look no further than Hermione Weasley."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes." Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can't go into details, of course, but I just left a meeting with her. She's about to embark on something quite unprecedented. Should it work out, it would make the perfect stepping stone to that first floor office. Not that she's doing it for that reason, of course."
Now he was dying to know what it was but Scorpius knew he couldn't ask too many questions about his mum's job. "And it involves your department?"
"Not quite. At least not yet. How do I explain this?" She fell quiet for a few moments, gathering her thoughts as she took a drag from her cigarette. "For now we're discussing a sort of quid pro quo arrangement. Unlike the others, the Department of Mysteries doesn't fall under the purview of the Department of Law Enforcement. Something that has always created a fair bit of resentment and friction between the two. For Ms. Weasley's... project, for lack of a better word, she'll need help from the Department of Mysteries. In return, we'll be able to maintain our autonomy but ideally create a more harmonious relationship with her department as well."
He was certain that, should he eventually find out what was transpiring this would make much more sense. For now, however, all Scorpius could do was nod. "Right."
Asteria laughed. "If it works out as planned, you'll probably be reading about it in the papers. And if it doesn't, you definitely will."
"It'll work out in the end."
"Let's hope so." Pulling out a mirror, she Transfigured it into an ashtray, flicking her ashes into there. "They need more ashtrays here. So how are you, dear? You haven't been spending your entire holiday inside that musty old house, have you?"
Scorpius shrugged. "The professors gave us loads of homework. I have three projects due when I return."
None were due right after he returned. Two were due a week after; the third the following week. The work kept him busy though and he was certain when he returned to Hogwarts, he could find something else to take up his time.
His mum looked doubtful. "How are Al and Rose? Haven't seen any owls from them lately."
"Busy. Al's spending the holiday catching up on his coursework." And driving himself barking mad if those last few days before hols were any indication. One way or another, Scorpius was sure his friend would find himself in St. Mungo's when they were done with Hogwarts.
"And Rose?"
Another shrug. "I guess she's busy too." He didn't really know, they hadn't spoken much in the week before Easter break.
Looking at him with concern, Asteria asked, "You two didn't have a falling out, did you?"
That was the problem, he'd spent so little time with Rose these past few weeks he didn't even know if they had and if so, why! Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Not exactly."
"Perhaps you should send her an owl. Or even better, go visit."
"Mum."
"I don't mean to nag. It's just that you and Rose used to be so close, seems odd that you're not keeping in contact. That's all."
There was something in the way she said that, the way she quickly averted her eyes at the last part, that made him suspicious. "You haven't been talking to Grandmother and Grandfather, have you?"
"No more than absolutely necessary, why?"
"So they didn't say anything about..." His voice trailed off as he made a useless gesture with his hands, trying to convey the rest without saying it.
"Anything about what? I'm afraid I'm not following you, dear."
"Nothing, never mind." He really didn't feel like bringing it up again.
"Is this about Rose?"
Pausing where he stood on the stairs, Scorpius turned to look at her. "They did tell you!"
"Tell me what? Scorpius, if every single dinner and shared holidays -" she let out a great sigh with this word " - weren't any indication of the tense relationship I have with your grandparents, then let me make it clear for you: we really don't talk unless absolutely necessary. Now, is there something going on with you and Rose?"
"No." Unfortunately.
As if reading his mind, Asteria gave a small grin. "But you wish there was." The grin disappeared completely a second later, replaced by a look of shock. "You told your grandparents this?"
"No! Not about it being Rose, I mean."
"I should hope not."
"The rest, sort of came up one day when I was talking with Grandfather, then he told Grandmother and how did you know about this if neither told you?"
She gave him a sly look. "Contrary to the old saying, dead men do tell tales."
"What? Really?!" Scorpius couldn't believe that she'd spend her time at work talking about her son but then who knows what spirits want to discuss when you summon them?
"No, of course not. Honestly, dear, don't you think I've noticed the way you talk about her? Or the way you light up whenever she writes" Brushing a stray lock of hair from his eyes, she added, "I don't need any form of Divination to see what's right in front of me."
Cheeks darkening, he ducked his head, pulling away from her. "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter. She's involved with someone else."
"I'm sorry," she said tenderly. "Have you told her how you feel?"
Scorpius' head shot up and he seriously wondered if every single person in his family was incapable of hearing the words “she involved with someone else.” "No. She doesn't feel the same way about me, anyway."
"She's told you this?"
"No, but she's with someone else."
Cigarette finished, Asteria did away with the butt and ashes with a muttered, "Evanesco" then turned the ashtray back to its original form. They sat in silence for a few moments and one look told him his mum was choosing her next words carefully. "I realize this is something you've given a lot of thought to and I have no doubt you know Rose's heart better than I, but are you certain not telling her is the wisest course?"
"It won't change anything."
She seemed to consider this. "Maybe, maybe not. I can't promise anything of course when it comes to her feelings but maybe it will help you."
He could not fathom how it could possibly help to tell Rose how he felt and have her reject him. Something that must have been evident from the look of disbelief on his face because Asteria clarified. "You won't have 'what if' hanging over your head. At the very least, you can know you tried."
After all this time, that's what it really came down to, wasn't it? He couldn't moon after Rose forever, he had to do something. "I suppose you're right." Standing, he held out a hand to help her. "Ready to leave?"
Nodding, she took his hand and rose to her feet. Pausing for a moment, she gave him a fond look. "I know I'm biased but I must say, she'd be mad not to feel the same way about you."
"You sound like Grandmother. She said the same thing, you know."
Entering the lift first, Asteria turned towards her son, wrinkling her nose at his comment. "How eerie."
"Maybe you both have more in common than you thought," Scorpius said, following her inside.
Asteria huffed lightly at this, the clang of the lift gate nearly drowning out her next words. "As long as our similarities begin and end with you, I suppose I will manage."
~~~~~~~~
Normally, Scorpius was thrilled when Professor Longbottom asked him to help in the greenhouses. They were his among his favorite places in Hogwarts and to be allowed to work in greenhouse four, where only the most dangerous plants were kept, was an honor. Today, however, it was drudgery pure and simple. Along with the Devil's Snare and mature Mandrakes usually found in this greenhouse, was a new shipment of Solomon Islands Sneezepalm saplings that needed planting. When fully grown their palms, oil, and bark could be used in a variety of mixtures from Doxycide to a Blood-Replenishing Potion. They also grew attractive pink blooms that sneezed twice a day, letting loose pollen and gas. In high doses the gas could cause a person to fall into a coma or even die.
These plants weren't mature enough to be a danger to him. Scorpius' problem with the Sneezepalms was that, being tropical, they required the greenhouse to be kept warm and humid. Outside the greenhouse it was a typical cold and rainy April afternoon, but inside it was sweltering. Despite having stripped off his robe and t-shirt, he was still unbearably hot with his hair plastered to his forehead and the sweat stinging his eyes. Previous attempts to both push his hair back and wipe the sweat from his brow had left him with a dirty smudge just below his hairline.
When the final sapling was planted, Scorpius brushed the dirt from his gloves and sat on the ground to rest. Along with planting the Sneezepalms, he had volunteered to trim the Devil's Snare, taking pride in the fact that he was one of the few people (and the only student) trusted to do so.
Maybe after he had finished school, he could take up an apprenticeship here at Hogwarts. He was wealthy enough already to have several of his own greenhouses but working at Hogwarts would help him build a reputation as well as a resumé.
The creak of the door opening and the refreshing cool breeze that followed stirred Scorpius from his thoughts. Expecting Professor Longbottom, he stood, picking up his t-shirt as he did. "I finished planting the--"
It was Rose. Her eyes flickered quickly from his bare torso to his eyes, her own face already flushed. "Professor Longbottom said you'd be here. I passed by him on the way and mentioned I was looking for you and he said to look in the greenhouse. And here you are. It's hot in here, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is." His own reply was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. The second his head emerged, Rose looked away quickly, eyeing the table full of Mandrakes.
"Are their pots supposed to be shaking like that?"
"Mating season." Adults now, several of the Mandrakes had moved into each others' pots to do what mature Mandrakes did.
"Oh! I forgot about that," she said, face still pink right up to her ears and loosening her tie.
"Do you want to step outside, get some air?"
"Could we? I think I'm about to melt!"
"It's normally not so bad," he said, following her towards the door. "We received a new shipment of Sneezepalms today and I offered to plant them."
"Those are tropical, yeah?"
"From the South Pacific," he affirmed with a nod. The rain had stopped, leaving the sky gray and overcast and the air cool enough to prickle his skin. Leaning against the door, he inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet smell of fresh cut grass. After an hour in that greenhouse, this brief respite was just what he had needed.
"Listen," Rose began, breaking the silence, "about what happened at the Three Broomsticks, Duncan was completely out of line and he knows it."
"Does he?"
"Yes. We talked about it and he didn't mean what he said."
Scorpius snorted at this, not believing it for a moment. Still not looking at her, he said sofly, "So he sent you to tell me?"
"That's not it--"
Turning towards her, he spoke in crisp, cool tones. "Well, you can let Duncan know that I meant everything I said. He should be grateful the Cannons don't ask for a refund."
"Don't be like this! It's been very difficult for Duncan this past year; traveling all the time, in the news constantly, and all the pressure to win when that coach of theirs is obviously incompetent--"
Something between a sigh and a growl escaped his throat. "Are you done!? Because I'd rather listen to an uprooted Mandrake than hear about the trials and tribulations of your Quidditch star boyfriend."
Rose's face fell at this and for that brief second he was tempted to apologize. Crossing her arms, she regarded him in silence. "He's jealous."
"What?" He blinked, wondering if he misheard. "Jealous? Of what? Me?"
"You. Us. It's been difficult. He's gone so often with the team, we don't get to see each other much."
Not sure what to say, he just raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
"I told him he had no reason to worry, there's nothing going on between us," she said softly, eyes on the ground and absently wringing her hands. "I don't know how he got this idea in his head. I'm about as likely to run off with you as I am Al or James!"
The words hit him like a Bludger. He wanted to yell that he wasn't her cousin, that maybe her idiot boyfriend was jealous because Scorpius was in love with her. He wanted to but he didn't, instead remaining quiet.
Rose sighed. "Not that it excuses what he said." When his only response to this was to cross his arms, she threw her hands up in the air. "Blimey, Scorpius, are you ever going to talk?!"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Anything!" she exclaimed. "I've missed you," she added, her voice small. "Despite you acting like you have a broomstick up your arse at the moment."
"I haven't been avoiding you."
"I wasn't avoiding you! Not exactly," she hedged, playing with her hands again. "I haven't been doing so great in Transfiguration. Failed the last test. And I have a huge essay for Muggle Studies that I haven't even begun. That's really why I wanted to see you."
Scorpius furrowed his brow. "You're better at writing essays than I am."
"I know I am. But for research, I need to go to Muggle London."
"To the museum?"
"Yeah. The Imperial War Museum. I know you've been there before and figured it would be something you like, Muggle history and all. The exhibit I need to see won't be happening until mid-May."
"Isn't that cutting it close to the end of the year?"
Shrugging, Rose gave a half-grin. "I do my best work in a crunch."
"If you say so."
"So will you come with me?"
It would be so easy (and so satisfying to his wounded pride) to tell her no, to say he was busy, to avoid her in return. One look at her hopeful face though and Scorpius knew he couldn't. "Sure. Haven't been to Muggle London in ages anyway."
Her face broke into a smile, a flash of uncertainty playing across her features before Rose launched herself at him, hugging Scorpius tightly. Holding her in his arms, he felt better than he had in a while. Worried he would get lost in the feel of her against him, the smell of her hair and the warmth of her skin, he let go first. Smiling awkwardly, he tilted his head towards the greenhouse. "I should get back inside. I still have a few more things to do."
"I should get going anyway. Al's waiting for me. We're going to study together." A look that could only be described as mild nausea came over Rose. "He drew up this entire schedule for me and he's being a total nag about me following it. I know it's crackers but I'm really starting to think he's the bastard child of my mum and Uncle Percy."
Scorpius laughed. "Have fun."
"You too."
~~~~~~~~
Far as the eye could see it was clear blue skies with the occasional fluffy white cloud here and there. A steady breeze kept it from being too warm though the mid-afternoon sun was bright and Scorpius was certain he'd have a sunburn tomorrow. Didn't matter, he wouldn't dream of forfeiting this game. That canny part of his brain - the one that looked at every angle and (very possibly was) the (only) reason he was in Slytherin - wondered if letting Rose win wouldn't be a prudent move. But Scorpius couldn't do that. This was a matter of pride and he was just not going to give this up without a fight.
Doing a slow spin on her broom, Rose threw her arms up in the air. “Bloody hell, where is that stupid thing?!”
Not that any of his competitive posturing would mean anything if he couldn't actually find the Snitch. Two hours ago they'd given up on their still-unsuccessful prank planning to play a game of “Catch the Snitch”. Two hours and they hadn't caught a glimpse of the damned thing in over an hour. He was starting to wonder if maybe an owl hadn't caught it, thinking it was a bird.
“Real wonder neither of us made Seeker, eh?” he said, easily floating over to where she was.
Rose grinned at him, her cheeks and nose dark pink from the sun. “I never wanted to be Seeker. Too much pressure.”
“I did. Or I thought I did.” Arriving at Hogwarts, Scorpius had intended to be Seeker for Slytherin, just like his dad before him. The idea of the game hinging on him seemed terribly exciting, the only way to play it. When he hadn't made it, he'd been crushed.
Until he played his first game and discovered that being Chaser was just as exciting and far less nerve-wracking.
“You would have made a good Seeker. You're a fast flier.”
“Broom does most of that,” Scorpius said, shrugging. “I don't think I would have. It seems to rely too much on chance, on seeing the Snitch at the right moment. I couldn't stand that.”
“You have a point.” Rose nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think we still would be friends if we were both Seeker? In direct competition with each other all the time? Mowbray and Smith don't get along and I don't think Flint and Smith do either, do they?”
“That's because Smith is a jerk,” he answered matter-of-factly. “And Chasers and Keepers face-off with each other, just like the Seekers do. But after years of me trying to get my Quaffle into your hoop, we're still friends.”
It took a second for the unintended second meaning of that sentence to hit them both. Rose threw her head back, laughing loudly while Scorpius went even pinker.
Waggling her eyebrows and gripping the handle of her broom in a suggestive way as she steered over to him, Rose teased, “This is why I must guard my hoop from you roguish Chasers.” She bumped his broom with hers as she moved past. “You don't care where you put your Quaffles!”
Thanks to the topic of conversation and the way she was sitting on the broom, he couldn't help staring, if only for a second, at her cute little arse. She turned suddenly and his eyes flew up to her face. “I now have the urge to write a story using Quidditch as a metaphor for love and sex.”
“What happened to that story you were writing? The one with the Squib who discovered he had magical ability later in life? That was good.”
Scrunching her face and waving her hand, Rose made some non-committal noise. “It needs work.”
“I thought you were nearly done with it.”
“I've been busy with things.” In an obvious attempt to change the subject, she asked, “Do you think it would be too much like James and Fred's prank if we switched the classrooms around. Like Divination with Herbology?”
“Yes.” Which was the same answer he gave the first time she had asked this question. “And we'd have to find out how they did it which would mean asking them--”
Rose shook her head. “Aunt Audrey helped them. Not intentionally, but it had to be her. She's the architect, she'd be the one who would know how to move all the common room furniture around without much fuss and how to make Slytherin's common room look like Hufflepuff's. And to turn Gryffindor Tower into the Slytherin dungeons?” Twisting her mouth as she thought about it, Rose murmured, “Turning Ravenclaw's common room into Gryffindor's would have been easier, compared to the other but they had a lot of help with what charms to use and all that.”
“Brilliant prank.” And damn near impossible to beat.
Like she was reading his mind, Rose tilted her head and sighed, “We're never going to top that, are we?”
“Looking less and less likely.”
Both mourning their dream of pulling off a prank greater than last year's, the two fell silent. Rose made wide, lazy loops around Scorpius and he wondered if she was trying to distract him. (If so, she was somewhat successful, as he once again admired the way her long legs looked wrapped around the broom.)
“Know what your story needs?” he asked suddenly, grinning as he did.
Raising an eyebrow, she took the bait. “What's that?”
“A brave Herbologist to save the day.”
“An Herbologist?”
“Very underrated profession. Every story would be improved with a tall, dashing intelligent Herbologist at the center of it.”
Rose seemed to consider this before shaking her head. “It's too much work thinking up an entirely new character to throw into the mix.”
“Base it on someone you know,” he said, grinning as he passed in front of her.
“A brave, tall, dashing, intelligent Herbologist to save the day?” she repeated doubtfully.
“I'm sure you can think of someone.”
“I can but Professor Longbottom usually shies away from such attention,” she replied earnestly, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I don't know if he'd appreciate that.”
“You know too many brave, dashing Herbologists.”
“Do I?”
Starting to think his “owl ate the Snitch” theory had some weight to it, he stopped in front of her. “Seriously, am I ever--”
There, behind Rose and just a few meters away, fluttering its wings, was the Snitch. His eyes met hers. Sensing what had happened, she whipped her head around to look. Scorpius was too fast for her though, flying past her as he raced after the Snitch. Rose kept close behind him, though; and hoping to lose her, he made a sharp feint left. She started to follow but realizing what he was doing, righted herself.
Looking up in time to see the Snitch nearly within Rose's grasp, Scorpius dove right. He sailed underneath her and just as her fingers touched its wings, he reached up and grabbed the Snitch. Scorpius laughed at her frustrated growl, flashing the small golden ball out to her as he flew by.
Trailing after him, as soon as they landed Rose grumbled,“Yeah, you win, Malfoy. What are your terms?”
“I almost forgot about that,” he said brightly. Before the game, they had made a bet, loser had to do whatever the winner asked.
“Sure.”
“I did!”
Rose crossed her arms, waiting impatiently.
The problem was, the things he wanted, he couldn't ask for. Not as part of their bet. He couldn't ask her to kiss him or to dump her idiot boyfriend. He could maybe get away with asking for the first if they weren't good friends, but even then it was sketchy...
“Scorpius?” she looked at him with concern.
“Notes,” he answered automatically.
“What?”
“I want your notes, till the end of term, for all the classes we have together.”
“I don't take notes.”
“Good time to start.”
“That's it?”
“Yeah.” He moved the Snitch between his hands as its moving wings started to tickle his palms. “Do you want more?”
“No. That's fine.” She picked up her broom and he followed suit, falling in step with her. “Nicer than I was going to be with you, that's all.”
“Is that so? And what were you planning?”
“I was going to make you run a lap around the Great Hall during dinner.”
Before he could ask, she grinned over her shoulder. “Starkers.”
~~~~~~~~
In the precious little free time we have, I've taken to reflection. My mind wanders back to that night we spent near the lake and those last tender moments we had together. Everything I confessed, all the promises made, I hold to still. God, country, and king: none of these are enough to give me courage as I spend another night, wet and freezing in a trench. None hold any meaning when all I see, smell, breathe, eat is slaughter and death.
Only you save me from those lonely moments of despair, only you are that lifeline back.
I fight for no god, no nation and no crown. I fight to make a world that is worthy of you.
Beside him, Scorpius could hear Rose sniffling. Surprised, he turned in time to see her head down as she focused on her notebook, writing down notes with her “bick." Her hand trembled slightly and her eyes looked red. He could tell from the way her shoulders tensed that Rose knew he was watching her, so he quietly looked away.
She'd been acting oddly the entire trip. Distracted, almost nervous but she never gave a reason. Scorpius knew her well enough to know she was upset about something. While sentimental, she didn't normally cry that easily and whenever she wasn't writing, she was playing with her hands. Threading them together, squeezing her fingers and sometimes wringing them as she looked off in the distance. He had asked her repeatedly if something was wrong and every time she gave the same answer.
He wondered if it was the exhibit: a collection of letters between soldiers from the “World Wars” and their loved ones. Next to each letter was information about the soldiers, the ones who died, the ones who returned to an empty house, and the few who went on to have happy lives. It certainly cast a pall over his mood.
But that wasn't it, because she'd been acting this way from the moment they met at the Leaky Cauldron.
(The devil inside him hoped she was having problems with Finnigan. He wasn't proud of this but the feeling remained.)
She had dressed a bit nicer than usual for the trip. Most of the time, she favored casual clothing; and aside from that one glorious day early last summer when he'd seen her in a bikini, she almost always wore trousers or denims. For all their previous trips to Muggle London, she had dressed the same as she always did, though maybe more conservatively - often in black, but Muggles seemed to wear that color a lot, he'd noticed. They all looked like they were going to a funeral.
Today, she wore a floral-patterned cream-colored dress that came to her knee and delicate sandals that had a bit of a heel. Her hair was loose, she wore a thin golden bracelet on her left wrist, and even looked to be wearing make-up. It was almost as if she were going somewhere, but when he asked what was the occasion, she had simply blushed and muttered something about “wanting to wear a dress once in a while”.
It was completely baffling.
And completely distracting.
Scorpius had enough trouble keeping his eyes off her when she was wearing her school robes. When she was dressed like this, he constantly found his attention traveling to the milky white skin of her legs and the curves hinted at underneath the thin material of her dress. His gaze wandered to the flimsy wisps of material that made up the sleeves of the dress, and the dusting of freckles on her shoulders. How Scorpius wanted to push the straps of her dress aside and kiss her just there.
With a sinking stomach he realized Rose had gone completely still. He could see his reflection in the glass of the exhibit that she stood before, which meant Rose had been watching him stare at her. Their eyes met and they both looked away.
Turning to look at another letter, Scorpius said without looking at Rose, “Too bad Al couldn't come, he likes museums.”
“I know. I went to ask him, but he was busy.”
“What now?” On safe ground now, Scorpius shook his head. “At this rate, he'll be going to St. Mungo's as a patient and not a Healer.”
“I told him that. He agreed!”
“At least he's not gone completely around the bend.”
Another thought came to him - or returned, since it was one he'd had before but never voiced. Moving closer to where Rose stood so they wouldn't be overheard, he asked softly, “Do you ever think that maybe because of who Al's parents are - who his dad is - that Al is trying to live up to that?”
All previous uncertainty disappeared from Rose as she looked at him, a sardonic grin curving her mouth. “You just noticed that?”
“No. I just never said it before.”
“That's a big part of it. Looking like an exact replica of Uncle Harry sans scar doesn't help.” Blowing out a breath she'd been holding, Rose looked up at him. “Maybe that's all of us. James wanted to be an Auror all his life because his dad was one and when he grew up he 'wanted to beat up Voldemort too.' Hugo wants to improve Muggle-Wizard relations because that's important to our mum. Lily wants to play professional Quidditch just like her mum.”
“And you?”
“I don't know,” she said forlornly. “I want to write but I don't want to be a journalist like Aunt Ginny. My parents keep telling me about these job openings with the Daily Prophet or The Quibbler, or they mention PR jobs with the Ministry, and none of it is what I want to do. I'm not against doing it. I'd just like to go through the miserable, fruitless agony of trying to be a real writer first before I give up and do something sane.”
He snorted. “At least you have a plan.”
“Not that my mum cares. I know she only wants the best for me and is worried I'll wind up living at home till I'm thirty, but sometimes she drives me up the wall,” Rose said, voice rising in pitch with each word. “My dad is marginally better. Usually. But he doesn't get it either. I think Hugo is more what they were expecting when it came to children. Or hoping for. Eugh, that sounds whiny.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it's true?” In the same breath she added, “Oh, you mean the hoping for part? They always thought that because I was 'so intelligent' I'd accomplish the sorts of thing my mum did. I can't do that. I have no idea how she and Dad did that. If I'd had to face-off against a Dark Lord at seventeen, I'd die and probably get a few people killed in the process. I'm the same girl who was still getting lost on the way to Potions well into my second year.”
“You don't know that for certain. Your parents did what they did because they had to--”
“I know, I know.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Rose taking notes while he stood beside her, looking at the exhibits. Scorpius wondered if her discomfort earlier had anything to do with her parents and her future. She'd been the most animated he'd seen all day when talking about that.
“Did you know the Daily Prophet was desperate for pictures of us - the Potter and Weasley kids - before we were born?”
He raised an eyebrow. The more he thought about it, the less surprising he found it. “How desperate?”
“They were stalking Aunt Ginny before James' birth. Those last few weeks, she tried to stay by the house and not go out in public much to avoid the press. So they offered a thousand Galleons for the first picture of him. Later, it was five hundred for Al and Lily.” He didn't get a chance to ask before she said, “Hugo and I only fetched a hundred Galleons a piece.”
“Any takers?”
“Not for James. People thought it all in bad taste. But by the time Al and I rolled around, they weren't so hung-up. No one got a picture of Al, Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry were prepared by then. They got pictures of me, Hugo, and Lily however. And pictures of random babies they tried to pass off as us. Then there were the babies that women tried to pass off as Uncle Harry's.” Rose rolled her eyes. “One woman drew a little lightning scar on her child, like it was genetic!”
Scorpius laughed at this but his amusement soon died when he remembered something. “When I was born...” he paused, not wanting to seem like he was competing with her.
“Yeah?”
“When I was born my grandparents, my grandfather mostly, insisted on having a huge announcement in the Daily Prophet. Almost took up the entire page. A few days after it was published, my mum received an anonymous letter. It said that the entire Malfoy line was poisoned with bad blood and if there was any justice my grandparents and dad would be rotting in Hell for their crimes.” He took a deep breath, almost wishing he never said anything. “It also said that their bad blood should die with them and that it would be 'better for the world' if someone strangled me in my crib to ensure that.”
Well, if the letters from dead soldiers hadn't made this a depressing trip, Scorpius was certain he had.
Rose was aghast. “That's awful,” she said, sounding dazed. “I don't know how people can... Did they learn nothing from the war? How do you even say those things or write those things--”
“It's not a big deal--”
“It is a big deal! There's no excuse for that! You were just a baby, you can't be held responsible for what your family did--”
“A lot of people disagree with you there,” he scoffed.
Rose frowned. “Wait, did your mum tell you this?”
“No. It was my grandmother, maternal grandmother. She, er,” he waffled, knowing what he would say next was just going to make it worse. It was the truth, however. “She wanted me to know what kind of people my dad and his parents were. To understand why she and my grandfather didn't like them and why a lot of people didn't like them.”
Rose shook her head. “She... That's wrong.”
“I think she thought it was the right thing to do--”
“How could it--”
“She wanted me to be prepared for what people would say.”
Nothing more was said about that. Rose bit her tongue as Scorpius remembered another good reason not to bring these things up was so he didn't have to think about them.
Noticing Rose was hugging herself, he asked, “Are you cold?” The Muggle version of cooling charms - their “eragon dishner” - kept the whole museum at something just above “frosty."
“I'm fine, but we should get going,” she replied, tapping her notebook. “I have everything I need.”
He nodded and followed her lead as they made their way through the museum. Realizing he never got an answer to his question, Scorpius asked, “So what was Al so busy with that he couldn't come visit with us?”
Rose paused in her step, her shoulders tensing. “Er, he, er agreed to tutor some students in Potions. He was with a bunch of sixth-years when I saw him.”
“What were they working on?”
“Amortentia,” she said, tucking a few curls behind her ear. “Some had problems brewing it.”
“That's a fun one.”
“Have you brewed it before?”
“No, but last year I had to talk to Bletchley about something after class one day. I went to her office and she was holding a small tutoring session, they were working on that.”
Rose nodded, nervously twining her fingers together and not looking at him. “So, er, what did it smell like?”
“Erm,” he swallowed. “I don't remember exactly. It was a while ago. I think it was fresh cut grass after rain, the sweets my parents send me every month, and er, a pumpkin sort of smell.”
“Pumpkin?” She looked at him with keen interest and Scorpius felt his heart pound. This would be the perfect time to tell her. Maybe not the perfect place, but this was an opening might not get again.
“Yeah, pumpkin. Like... the juice? And tarts. All the pumpkin-based Hogwarts food...” Scorpius wondered if a bigger coward than he had ever existed.
“Right. Hogwarts.”
“What did it smell like for you?”
“Me?” He noticed Rose's ears were red and maybe she did too, because she ran her hand through her hair, causing it to fall forward and obscure them. “Er, ink and bacon--”
“There's a surprise.”
She smiled wanly but only for a moment, her expression fading with the next words. Looking anxiously at him, Rose continued, “And a sort of earthy, woodsy smell.”
That made sense, he supposed. She loved to spend time outside almost as much as he did and Scorpius knew one of her biggest desires was to go camping. (Something her parents had always refused.) Best of all, he couldn't see any way it related to Finnigan! “Nice scent.”
“Yeah.” Rose looked ahead. “It is.”
~~~~~~~~
Nearly a year after they first set out to best James and Fred's prank, Rose and Scorpius found they had hit a brick wall. Nothing they could think of was appropriately brilliant enough, original enough, and funny enough to meet their goal. Therefore, two weeks before the end of term, they decided to go with the idea that had seemed like the most fun. And would also be the easiest to pull off.
Scorpius looked up as another one exploded, this one a large green dragon that breathed “fire”, orange and red sparks shooting from its mouth.
After about thirty minutes or so, the professors stopped trying to vanquish the fireworks. It was the night before they left school and, unlike the last time fireworks had been set off on Hogwarts, these were at least outside. As were most of the students and faculty. Students had brought down sheets to serve as picnic blankets as they dined on food smuggled from the kitchen. Some were even roasting sausages and marshmallows over the fire Hagrid had built. Their professors stood around talking and watching the fireworks, a few holding bottles of Butterbeer. Music from several different wireless radios mingled with the explosions of the fireworks and the chatter around him. Looking around, Scorpius had to admit this had gone better than he had expected.
Al nudged him in the side. “How long are these going to last?”
“Another hour? Hour and a half?” Scorpius looked at Rose for confirmation. She nodded.
Leaning against the tree, Rose closed her eyes. “Relax Al, exams are over. You're free!”
“I just need to know all my marks,” he said, scanning the crowd. “I've already spoken with Longbottom, Gobbo, Bletchley, and MacDuff, and I'm good for all their classes. All that leaves is--”
His voice trailed off as he spotted something, or someone, talking with Hagrid and Sprout. Following his gaze, Scorpius soon spotted the pink-cheeked, black-haired Defense Against the Dark Arts professor standing near the bonfire.
“Got to go,” Al said, hurrying over towards her.
“Poor Al,” Rose said, eyes still closed.
“Don't you mean poor Professor Jones?”
“Touché.”
Things had been strange between them the past few weeks. Scorpius almost had the feeling Rose was hiding something from him. At times, he'd catch her watching him and sometimes it seemed like she wanted to say something. When he asked though, she always insisted otherwise, ears turning red as she did.
“Weasley. Malfoy.” Corny Fenton stood in front of them, a smug smile on his face. Beside him was Imogen Dogberry, looking as sour-faced as ever. Scorpius expected Corny to announce that he knew they were behind the fireworks, that he'd decided to somehow give them detention tomorrow or even to tell them exactly how many “Outstandings” he received on his N.E.W.T.'s.
He didn't expect what Corny actually said. “Nice job on the fireworks.”
Dogberry smiled tightly, looking more pleased with what Corny than with what he said. Rose smiled brightly. “Thank you! Have a great summer.”
And the pair walked away.
Scorpius looked over at Rose. “Mind telling me what happened here?”
“They liked our fireworks,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “And a few weeks, ago I caught him and Dogberry snogging in the empty Transfiguration classroom when they were supposed to be out on rounds.”
“Corny and Dogberry,” Scorpius repeated.
“I think they've been together since Christmas.”
“You didn't tell me!”
“I didn't know for certain myself until a few weeks ago.” Rose protested.
“You didn't tell me about that either!” Scorpius now wondered if the two had really been patrolling the corridor around the Room of Requirement or if they wanted to use the room themselves. “So does that explain why you've been acting so distant lately?” he joked. “Still traumatized from what you saw?”
Eyes not meeting his, Rose looked down at her entwined hands. “I haven't been acting distant.”
He opened his mouth to argue but didn't get the chance.
“ROSIE!”
Roxanne and Lily, along with their fellow Gryffindors Hero Bertram and Miranda Goodfellow, descended upon them. Miranda pushed Hero forward, the shorter girl nearly falling when she did. “Tell Rose what you told me.”
“Tell me what?”
“I'm not supposed to tell anyone,” she said in a low voice. “But my dad, he owns the jewelry shop, yeah? My dad owled me to tell me that they had a rather famous customer in last night. A certain Quidditch player?”
“Duncan?” Rose asked. Scorpius felt slightly ill, not liking where this was headed.
Hero nodded emphatically. “He was in looking for rings. Engagement rings.”
“The note didn't say engagement rings,” Lily interjected.
The other girl looked indignant. “It said he looked at women's rings and that he specifically wanted to see their selection of diamond, pearl, and ruby rings!”
“Pearl for your birthday obviously,” Roxanne noted helpfully.
“I figured,” Rose said flatly.
“Diamonds are really popular thanks to Muggles,” Hero stated. “Daddy says he sells more and more diamond rings every year.”
“And rubies are popular with Gryffindors,” Miranda chirped. “I never really cared for them myself, to be honest.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “That doesn't mean anything! It might be just be for her birthday. It might not even be for Rose! It could be for his mum--”
“Of course it's for Rose!” Roxanne exclaimed. “They've been going out for eighteen months now, she's finished with Hogwarts and she's going to have a birthday soon. All signs point to Rose.”
“This is so exciting!” Miranda squealed, causing the others to giggle. The conversation soon devolved into the three girls planning the impending (though-not-yet-existent) nuptials of Rose and Duncan. Every once in a while Lily would argue that it was all ridiculous and that nothing had even happened yet, but the chatter continued.
Like himself, Rose was quiet, every so often glancing around nervously and smiling thinly at the talk about her. Her inability to sit still, to stop wringing her hands, to not continually look around as if she wanted to escape, reminded Scorpius of a caged animal.
“Your dad will be so happy,” Hero said, clasping her hands together. “He really likes Duncan, doesn't he? That's a good sign.”
“Uncle Ron will be most excited about the prospect of season tickets to the Cannons's games!” Roxanne teased.
If he listened to any more of this, Scorpius was certain he would be ill. Standing up, he announced, “I'm getting something to drink,” and didn't wait for a response.
He got one anyway. Rose shot up from her seat beneath the tree. “I'll join you.”
Not expecting this, he looked over his shoulder, but Rose moved too fast, already beside him then walking in front of Scorpius to where the Butterbeers were. With fluid movements she grabbed two, tossed one to him and opened hers with her hand, clearly in no mood to bother with her wand. Scorpius watched avidly as she drank hers like she'd spent the bulk of the day wandering the Gobi with no water, her head tipped back as she took a long drink.
He tore his eyes away, looking down at his bottle and feeling rather parched himself now.
“I want to travel,” Rose gasped when she came up for air. “I want to go on gondola rides through Venice and ride across the Sahara on camel-back and go deep-sea diving like the Muggles do in the Great Barrier Reef. I don't even know if I want to live in England all my life, but I want to write, and if I want to have any hope of being good at that, I need to live and I really haven't done anything interesting or worthwhile. When they were my age, my mum and dad had saved the Wizarding World a few times over, and all I've managed to do is not fail any of my classes!”
Unsure what to do, Scorpius nodded not that Rose seemed to notice this. “First it's marriage, then I have to stay in one place because it's hard to build a home if you're both constantly in different places at the same time - and let's face it, that usually falls to the woman.” Even with the empty Butterbeer bottle between them, Rose wrung her hands. “Next thing you know, there will be kids, and I'll have to postpone my dreams even longer.”
Pacing back and forth now, she continued, confessing, “I sent that Squib story to a few magazines. I've never tried to get anything published before, not really anyway, not beyond The Herald, which doesn't count.”
“What did they say?”
“They all rejected it.”
“I'm sorry--”
“I'm not! That's what I'm trying to say. I think.” Rose shook her head. “I never really expected it to get published. I wanted it but I didn't seriously think it would happen. And the letters were pretty nice, for the most part. Two told me to 'keep writing,' and that's what you want to hear in a rejection letter.” She looked off towards the lake, wordless for a moment before turning to look at Scorpius. “I needed to know. I couldn't stand always wondering and never knowing if I had let a chance slip by me. I think if I were to settle down now, I'd live the rest of my life with a big 'what if' hanging over my head.”
Sighing, shoulders slumped, Rose looked at him with pleading brown eyes. “Does any of that makes sense?”
“All of it.” Keenly aware now of what his mum had been saying, Scorpius knew this was the chance he'd been hoping for. She was so close, he could feel the heat from her skin, and she was still smiling at him, that soft look in her eyes.
Without thinking it through any more (he'd wasted too much time thinking), Scorpius cupped her chin and bent down. He paused for a second when she gave a small gasp, but when she didn't move away, he kissed her. The first was dry and chaste, just a brush of his lips against hers. The second wasn't, it was her sighing into his mouth and him sliding his tongue against hers.
When Rose pulled away, he dropped his hands as if he'd been burned. “We... I should...”
“Wait, wait.” Scorpius grabbed her wrist, his hold on it light and loose. “It's... I love you, Rose.”
“What?”
“I'm in love with you.” He let go of her, shoving his hands in his pockets. Rose looked stunned. Scorpius was rather surprised he'd said it too, after so many months of just thinking it and agonizing over it, and now he'd done it. “You really didn't know?”
“I didn't...” Rose shook her head, her words dying.
“I've wanted to tell you for a long time. I wanted to know if you felt the same way. Or could feel the same way.” She didn't. Scorpius was no Legilimens and he didn't expect her to swoon into his arms, but one look told him she didn't reciprocate his feelings.
Lips pursed in a tight line, Rose shook her head again. “I do care about you, Scorpius. You're one of my best friends, you're--”
“Don't.”As a heavy weight settled in his chest, his throat tightened and Scorpius felt as if he could hardly draw breath for the next words. “I'm not your cousin or your brother and I don't want to be just your friend--”
“What do you want me to say? You can't--”
“Nothing,” he said thickly. “You don't have to say anything.”
“Oi! There you are,” Al called, walking over to where the unhappy couple stood, Lily in step with him. “Good news! I...”
Lily stopped him. “Maybe we should come back later.”
“No, it's fine,” Scorpius answered, careful not to look at them. “I was just leaving.”
Walking off towards the castle, his only comfort was that after tomorrow he would never have to see Rose Weasley again.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Five