You Are the Only Exception (PG-13)
Title: You Are the Only Exception
Author: i_am_girlfriday
Prompt: 005. “When I go to a bar, I don't go looking for a girl who knows the capital of Maine." -- David Benner
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy has a theory that men and women can't be friends, and Rose Weasley is out to prove him wrong.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Innuendo, unresolved sexual tension, mild language. Nearly AU or at least nonsensical use of Muggle technology in magical households, and magical products sold for Muggle entertainment.
Word Count: 5,000ish
A/N: Inspired by When Harry Met Sally. Katz’s Deli really is amahzing, and you actually can send a salami in the mail. Title stolen from the song Only Exception by Paramore. Thank you to my beta for pushing me to make this better.
When Rose Weasley learns that Scorpius Malfoy is in her year at Hogwarts, she immediately sets out to introduce herself. It is no secret that there’s bad blood between their families. She thinks the best way to deal with generations of animosity is to look him directly in the eye and offer her friendship.
Rose tucks her curls behind her ears and stands up straight and tall. She marches up to Scorpius, who’s holding court at one of the Slytherin dining tables.
“Ahem.” She taps him on the shoulder.
Scorpius turns around. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Rose Weasley,” she says with confidence.
One of the older boys snickers. “Like we couldn’t tell.”
Rose pretends not to hear him. “You’re Scorpius Malfoy. I think we should be friends.”
Scorpius smiles widely. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Rose is crestfallen. “I know our families have never been friendly, but we don’t have to be like them. We can be different--show them that Weasleys and Malfoys can be friends.”
“It’s nothing personal. It’s not a Weasley-Malfoy thing. I just don’t want to be friends with you.”
“But why?”
“Because you’re a girl.”
“What?”
“Boys and girls can’t be friends.”
“That’s rubbish. I have loads of boy friends.”
More snickering erupts from the crowd.
“Those are your cousins. They don’t count because you’re related.”
“What a convenient exception to your rule.” Rose wrinkles her nose. “I think it’s the barmiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
Rose stands there awkwardly, wondering how her plan has failed so miserably.
“It was nice meeting you, Rose Weasley.” Scorpius holds his hand up and waves.
“Wish I could say the same,” Rose says under her breath as she walks away.
***
Rose nurses her second martini. Richard is off schmoozing with his boss from Gringotts International Wizarding Bank. By the looks of it, it is a successful night for them both. Rose really likes Richard; they both want the same things in life. After a month of dating she’s glad to finally take the next step--meeting his friends and colleagues. It’s only been a few months since she and Ben broke up, but Rose is happy to be in a new relationship. She was momentarily single after moving to New York six years ago, but luckily Gabriel had come along shortly after. Then there was that unfortunate and brief period of overlap with him and Ben, but that’s in the past now. Rose is pretty sure she and Richard could go the distance.
Rose is busier than ever with Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Her concept to develop products for Muggles is taking off. The flagship store in Times Square is just weeks from opening, and her first shop in magical Manhattan has been going “gangbusters,” according to her General Manager, this holiday season. Her professional life is going great, and now she’s committed to making her romantic life just as strong.
She glances around the room and scowls. Scorpius is getting another drink and the cloying blonde hasn’t left his side all night. Not that she wanted to talk to him anyway. His upper crust rearing has done little to refine his social graces. Whenever they run into each other he always says something completely absurd. Not that they’ve run into each other recently. She last saw him after graduating from London School of Economics, and of course their social circles brought them into contact more frequently while they were in school.
The boss’ wife, Shirley, approaches Rose and they chat about the unseasonably warm winter weather and the changing trends in women’s robes. She tries to leave a good impression. She knows Richard is hoping for a promotion in the New Year.
Scorpius catches her unawares. “Rose. Is that you?”
Rose arches an eyebrow. She hates that he pretends not to recognize her.
Rose’s companion smiles. “Do you two know each other? What a nice coincidence!”
“Scorpius and I went to school together.”
“Is that so? What a small world! Did you know you were both in New York?”
Rose laughs stiffly. “We sure did.” She shoots Scorpius a glare. “Funny story...” Rose notices a small crowd gathering to hear her. “On the eve of our arrival to the states I had to spend four hours in Scorpius’s company while we waited at the Ministry.”
“International Portkey issues,” Scorpius adds.
“Right. Well, Scorpius delighted me with his theories about friendship between men and women. You see, we’ve known each other for ages and he’s always had very antiquated views about gender relations. They’re really quite--”
“--Insightful?” Scorpius offers.
“I was going to say 'offensive'. There I was, scared witless about leaving England, but also so happy to find out that I was going to know someone in New York.”
“How nice!” Shirley claps her hands together.
“It doesn’t end there. The point of this story is that he said, and I quote: ‘Men and women can’t be friends because of the unresolved sexual tension.’” Rose pauses and waits for the chuckles--people always laugh when she repeats this story at cocktail parties. “I asked him, ‘Surely there’s an exception if the man doesn’t find the woman attractive?’”
“And then I said, ‘No, men pretty much want to bed them too.’”
There’s laughter and a few of the men punch Scorpius playfully. Some of the wives purse their lips disapprovingly.
“There you have it, Shirley. Our not-at-all sordid history.” Rose grins.
“I’ve since revised my theory again--if anyone is interested in hearing it? A man and a woman can be friends if they are both in relationships. It eases the sexual tension.” People chuckle politely.
“There you go, ladies and gentleman. The comedic styling of Scorpius Malfoy,” Rose says wryly.
The group breaks up to mingle, leaving Scorpius alone with Rose.
“You made me look like right git, Rose."
“I don’t think you needed my help to look like a git.” She beams at him.
“Are you sure you’re not just upset that you lost your chance to get friendly with me?” He teases.
“Believe it or not, Scorpius, I never considered not sleeping with you to be a big sacrifice.”
“Touché.”
Rose downs the rest of her drink and eyes the bar.
“So I guess we could put my newest exception to the test now.”
She looks at him with confusion.
“Since we’re both in relationships.”
Rose laughs despite herself. “I better get going, I haven’t seen my boyfriend in a while.” She straightens her shoulders. “Goodbye, Scorpius.”
***
“I’ll have a double chai latte and a pumpkin scone.” Rose hands the cashier a ten dollar bill. Over her shoulder she notices Scorpius waiting by the counter. She collects her change and tries to grab a table at the far end of the café. She pulls out her notebook and puts her head down, studying the third quarter financial reports from WWW. A few minutes pass and Rose thinks she’s lucked out, but when she looks up his tall figure is right in front of her.
“Hi, Rose. I thought that was you.” Scorpius pulls out a chair and joins her.
“Hello.” She is curt with him, hoping it will deter him from staying long. “How are you?”
“Wonderful, actually. I got married.” He’s glowing like a smug bastard.
“Married?” Rose feels all the color drain from her face. “To whom?”
“Heather Merriweather. She kept her last name. She’s from a long line of American wizards and witches out of Salem.”
Rose looks at him with skepticism. “Same woman from the party?”
“What was that, last winter?”
“Blonde, tall, big--”
Scorpius’s eyes grow wide wondering where she’s going with this.
“--Personality.” Rose purses her lips.
“Yes, that’s Heather!” He beams.
“I wish you nothing but joy.” Rose stands and gathers her things, hoping her order is up next.
“Are you still with Richard?”
“Yes, we just bought a place together.” Rose smiles, but hates how it feels something like competition.
“Congratulations.”
“To you as well. I have to get going.” Rose waves and rushes to the counter when the barista calls her name. She cannot leave the café fast enough.
***
Rose throws herself into work more than ever. Richard feels like a distant memory, except when she sees the box of his things he forgot when he left her six weeks ago. She swallows her emotions. She hasn’t cried at all. She’s happy he’s gone. They wanted different things.
Rose loves being from a big family, she’s just not sure she wants one for herself, and certainly not right now. Part of moving to the states was to prove she could be independent and totally self-reliant. She’s done that for years and it was unfair for Richard to ask her to be a different kind of woman. It’s times like these that she envies the sort of relationship her parents have. They know each other inside and out and still want to be with together.
When Rose is not at the office reviewing the corporate financials, she’s taking International Portkeys to work in the lab with the Research & Development team. When she’s not out doing press about the Times Square tourist Mecca and the launch of a new location, she’s walking the sales floor, interacting with the kids and families shopping. The pace she’s set worries her uncle George, but she and her cousin Freddie are determined to corner the market on wizarding crossover products. While fixing a messy display of The Adventures of Martin Miggs, The Mad Muggle, Rose notices a grown man looking at the trading card display near the Chocolate Frogs.
She recognizes him immediately, though his perfectly coiffed hair is disheveled and he’s wearing mismatched trainers. It’s been two years since she saw him at the café. “Scorpius, hi.” She uses a gentler tone than she probably would have in the past.
He does a double take. “I thought you have employees to run the place.”
“I do. But I confess, I love to come down every now and then and just watch people shop.”
Scorpius looks wistful. He’s holding a Newt Scamander card. “Whenever I’m feeling homesick I come here.”
She holds her hand to her mouth and whispers, “To a wizarding joke shop that caters mostly to Muggle tourists?”
He laughs. “I’ve never really liked Broome Street.”
Rose agrees. The New York City equivalent of Diagon Alley is crawling with hipsters and is too gentrified to really be reminiscent of home.
“What about McGilly Waters in Greenwich Village?”
“Good pub, bad food.”
There’s a lull in the conversation. “Well, how about it? Can I buy you a pint and some cold chips?”
“You heard about me and Heather, then?” Scorpius looks nothing like the happy man she saw a couple of years ago, and even further from the cocky boy she used to know at school who didn’t want to be her friend because she’s a girl.
“I’m sorry.” Rose leans in and hugs him. He looks like he could use it, and quite frankly, so could she.
***
“You need to get back out there, Rose.”
Rose laughs hysterically at this--Scorpius giving her dating advice. Instead she goes back up to the counter and orders more pickles. She doesn’t care about retaining water weight or even the fact that her hair desperately needs a deep conditioning. Scorpius hates Katz’s Deli, but that’s because he’s always been a bit of a snob. They had a long laugh about Katz's “Send a Salami to Your Boy in the Army” program. It started back in World War II, but it turns out you can send one to anyone these days. Rose had thought they’d make great gifts to her friends and family back home, but she changed her mind after Scorpius made a series of lewd jokes.
Rose and Scorpius have lunch or dinner several times a week. They fight about who’s going to pay every time the bill comes. Contrary to her former opinions about his social graces, Scorpius really can be chivalrous when he chooses. But as Rose points out, he’s not expected to pick up the tab since they are just friends. She quite likes being named one of the richest witches by Fortune Hunters magazine. It’s still a thrill to treat herself and friends to a meal any time she wants. It doesn’t really cross their minds to split the bill or pay only their share.
“If I have to start dating again, then so do you. What’s it been now?”
“Five months, three weeks, and two days.”
“You’ve got to stop counting the days since your divorce.”
“It’s sad.” He sighs.
“No. We crossed sad when Heather changed her phone number and stopped accepting your owl messages. This is just pathetic. And I say that as one of your best mates.”
“Only mate.” He pouts.
Rose considers this. He’d always insisted they couldn’t be friends, and Rose had honestly stopped trying to prove him wrong. But they’re in different places now--both fresh out of significant relationships and neither of them looking to dive back into dating. “You have friends,” Rose says with a mouthful of hot pastrami.
“No, not really. Heather got custody of them too,” he grumbles. “And must you eat like that? Where do you put it all?” Scorpius looks under the table. It’s one of their many running jokes.
“You make it sound like you two had kids! And I’ll have you know, I have my father’s metabolism--”
“--And your mother’s crazy hair.” He pulls a frizzy strand that has somehow made it’s way to the front of his shirt.
Rose throws a pickle at his plate.
“We had a dog.” Scorpius returns to his whining.
“You hate dogs. You said her dog was a yappy little rat.”
“I miss the little fellow.”
“Pathetic...” Rose sighs heavily. “Look, these things take time. But you can’t hide away forever either. First dates are always awkward, but they’re something everyone has to get through before you get to the good stuff.”
“Are you talking about sex?”
Rose rolls her eyes. Scorpius has the maturity level of a fifteen year old boy. “No, I’m talking about intimacy.”
“Oh. So you do mean sex.” He smirks.
“Let’s face it, if we can barely think about dating, it could be ages before we’re ready to take it to the next level and be sexually active again.”
“Who said anything about not being sexually active?”
“Well, I just assumed.” Rose blushes. Every now and then she and Scorpius hit the boundaries of what they can talk about in their platonic friendship. Actually, Rose has drawn much stricter boundaries--nothing is off limits for Scorpius.
“Merlin’s pants, Rose. How long has it been for you?” He makes a crass hand gesture.
“If we’re going to talk about this, I’m going to need something a little stiffer than vanilla cream soda.” Scorpius opens his mouth, but Rose cuts him off. “I beg of you, let that one lie... So...seriously, how long has it been, since, you know?”
“Thursday.”
“This Thursday? With whom? Wait--I don’t want to know.”
***
Rose sets out a new tray of crackers and replenishes the hummus. She watches her friends and co-workers mingling. Her friend Rebecca, the General Manager at the Broome Street shop, gives her a wink. Rose smiles back. She’s hosting game night at her place so everyone can meet Derek. They’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now. He’s on Scorpius’s recreational Quidditch team--they met one afternoon when Rose was watching Scorpius play. It’s perhaps a little early to introduce him to her friends, but she likes being a part of a couple again.
Everyone arrived forty-five minutes ago and people are anxious to get the games going. Scorpius is late, as usual. She wishes Scorpius would put in a little more effort with her friends. Rose has always maintained a close group of witches and wizards. She knows Scorpius’s air of superiority is just a defense mechanism, but it means he’s rubbish at making new connections.
Rose sets up a few card tables with chairs. She opens up her wizard chess set, shuffles a few decks of cards, pulls out Smarty Party, and puts in new batteries for the Taboo buzzer. She’s designed the whole evening so people move from station to station and play a couple of turns before moving on to the next game. After they break for dinner they’ll play a few rounds of Pictionary or charades as a group.
By the time she’s finished, Scorpius turns up alone with an expensive bottle of wine and a string of excuses. Rose is furious. Rebecca’s husband and Derek are already itching to play Blackjack so everyone greets Scorpius in a hurry and finds their places at the tables.
“Why don’t you start without me, I just need to check on dinner,” Rose says as she heads into the kitchen, hiding the deep blush on her face.
Rose uses her wand with a bit more force than she intends, snapping the oven door shut with a loud thud. In a fit of fury she stifles a scream into a tea towel. Rose asked Scorpius to bring a date to game night because all of her friends are in couples and it’s much easier to play with even teams. He had assured her he’d bring a date, even if it meant breaking his one night stand rule. It bothered Rose in a way she couldn’t explain. They’d fought about it loudly over drinks on Tuesday night.
“You can’t hide in here forever. It’s your party, Rose.” Scorpius says, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Rose shoots him a dirty look. “It’s game night. Everything works better with even teams.”
“But it’ll still work even if they aren’t. So come out now.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eye.
Something in Rose breaks. She can’t let it go. She only started dating Derek because Scorpius insisted that it was time for her to move on. If he hadn’t been so encouraging then maybe they’d be each other’s partner for game night, and instead of arguing in the kitchen they’d actually be playing.
“Scorpius, I don’t understand, you promised. You promised you’d bring a date tonight.”
“Who cares, Rose? It’s not a big deal. It’s just a little party.”
“It is a big deal! But this is so typical of you, belittling me and my ‘little party.’ I asked you to do one thing--bring a date.”
“Well excuse me, but when I go to a bar, I don't go looking for a girl who knows the capital of Maine!”
Rose scoffs. “That’s rich! But I guess at least you’re being honest.” She breaks free from his hold and pulls out her wand from her apron. She levitates his expensive bottle of wine to the counter and waves her wand to remove the cork. She doesn’t even let the bottle breathe--just pours it directly into her large goblet.
“We’re different, Rose. You’re willing to commit to the first bloke who came along after Richard because you think that means you’ve got some sort of standard. Let’s face it, you’re a serial monogamist.”
“You say that like monogamy is a bad thing. At least I haven’t slept with half of Manhattan! You might have to relocate just so you can find a woman you haven’t already screwed!”
“So I sleep around! So what? At least I’m not like you.”
“Like me! Like how? Well adjusted and willing to risk getting hurt so I can feel something? Do you actually have a heart or is that just a lump of coal thumping inside your chest?”
“You think you’re so much better than me. I see you judging me. I know you think I’m just this huge fuck up. But you’re not all that different than me. You jump from one relationship to the next. Trust me, you’re at no risk of getting hurt because you’re with men you don’t love. You’re an emotional slut, and that’s the worst kind.” Scorpius’s words hit her like a slap in the face. “Shite.” Scorpius looks like he wants to take it all back. “Rose, I’m sorry.”
“Get out.” She feels all the color drain from her face. Her hands are shaking. She sets the goblet down before she accidentally breaks it.
“Let me explain.”
“Don’t bother. You’ve made it clear from the first day I met you--when we were eleven years old--we cannot be friends!” She screams. Her voice shocks her. She lowers it, remembering her guests. “You told me that much again when I was twenty-two, and now, almost ten years later I think I finally got your message.” Rose opens the kitchen door and holds it for Scorpius. She can’t bear to look at him, scared of what she might see.
***
Voice Mail
9:52 AM
“It’s been a week now. You’re still not taking my calls. It’s Saturday morning. Call me back. We can get breakfast at the place you like and talk.”
Voice Mail
11:37 AM
“I look ridiculous. I’m sitting at Alice’s Tea Cup. Alone. You know I hate this place. But the scones are to die for. I’ve ordered too much hash. Call me.”
***
Voice Mail
7:25 PM
“It’s me. I’m sorry. I don’t know how many grovelling messages I can leave... I haven’t heard from you and I’m starting to get worried. Maybe you’re trapped under a bookshelf and it’s too heavy for you to pick up. And maybe you’ve snapped your wand. And hit your head and can’t manage wandless magic... You have two options, either pick up your phone and call me back or I’ll call your cousin. I’m pretty sure you’re still taking Al’s calls. Call me.”
***
“Rose, you have a delivery,” her doorman says as she walks in from an evening jog.
“Thanks, Tony.” Rose signs for the package and then heads into the elevator.
She examines the address--it’s local, but not one she recognizes. Once she makes it inside her apartment she rips off the tape with swish of her wand. She unwraps the top layer of paper only to discover a two and half pound salami from Katz’s Deli. There is no note, but Rose already knows it's from Scorpius.
She allows herself to smile for the first time since their fight began. She knows she’s been a bloody horror to deal with at work. Her employees have been avoiding eye contact and tend to find themselves very busy as soon as Rose enters the building. The salami doesn’t fix everything, but it’s something.
Rose scrawls a note and goes to her owl’s cage. Her name is Buffy, and she’s a beautiful snowy creature that her father gave her on her thirteenth birthday. She’s getting up there in age but still enjoys soaring above the city among the skyscrapers and the clouds. Rose strokes her head and Buffy makes sounds of appreciation. Rose doesn’t send messages by owl usually--she prefers the Muggle cell phone--but some messages are better on parchment.
I got the salami. How fast can you get here with the wine and cheese?
***
Rose paces her flat and wonders if she’s been too presumptuous. Perhaps Scorpius is out on the prowl, picking up another cocktail waitress named Kimberly, no last name. It’s Saturday evening. Men like him don’t spend them by the phone waiting for a platonic friend’s forgiveness over a stupid row.
Hours and minutes tick by, and finally, by nine-thirty Rose accepts that Scorpius isn’t coming over. She has two options: she can put on a sappy romantic comedy, eat salami, and cry, or she can take a bath and get to bed early so she can face Scorpius on Sunday. Rose decides on all of the above. She drags her Muggle laptop to the vanity and puts on a classic Drew Barrymore flick, runs a bath, and sinks down into the water. Between dabbing her eyes and yelling obscenities at Justin Long, Rose nibbles on the salami. Rose tells herself the tears are for Derek, but that just makes her cry more. Scorpius was right--Rose has a bad habit of committing too soon to men she doesn’t even love.
Who is pathetic now, she wonders.
***
Rose awakens in her bed to the sound of scratching. She wonders if she forgot to leave the window open for Buffy. She pulls on a silk robe and goes to the living room to investigate. The sound is coming from the door, like someone is trying to pick her lock. Rose grabs her wand tightly in her hand, recalling all the spells she learned in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Then she realizes that if the burglar is picking her lock he must be a Muggle. She runs to the bedroom and looks for her Beater’s bat. She arms herself.
Finally, there is a soft click as the lock slides out of place. A dark figure enters and fumbles with the lights. Just as they flicker to life, Rose calls out, “Immobulus!”
There in the soft light is a frozen Scorpius, very much worse for wear. He looks like he hasn’t combed his hair in a month, hasn’t eaten in more.
“Merlin’s beard! Scorpius, I thought you were a burglar.” Rose undoes her Freezing Charm.
“You think burglars let themselves in with their spare key?” He jingles his key chain.
“Bugger. I forgot about that. Well, what was with the fumbling? I heard scratching noises.”
“I couldn’t remember which key was yours. I kept trying to force my office key, but I finally figured it out.”
Rose yawns. She went to bed only after she’d eaten half a salami and become almost mortally pruned by tepid bathwater. She feels her face; her eyes are puffy from crying.
“I expect you were sleeping.”
“Well, that is generally what people do at half three in the morning.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Buffy delivered your message at a most inopportune moment.”
Rose can’t help herself, “When you were leaving the bar with a woman?” Jealousy makes her do stupid things.
Scorpius lets her words hang in the air. “I deserved that. I have been acting like a total wanker.”
Rose musters her courage and says, “I haven’t made this easy on you, and I know you’re not entirely to blame. I said some terrible things to you. I've been avoiding you because I’m rather ashamed of my own behaviour.”
“We both said things in the heat of the moment that are...regretful. Anyhow, I was at a corporate retreat in Hudson Valley tonight. I had to wait until my bosses finished drunken karaoke. Then I Apparated here as quickly as I could.”
“Why? It could have waited until you got back from the retreat. I would have understood.”
“No. It couldn’t. I couldn’t. I can’t wait.”
Rose feels a chill. She pulls her wand from her pocket so she can shut the windows and summon a blanket. Scorpius approaches her. He stills her movements, puts his hands on her shoulders.
“Stop fidgeting.”
“It’ll just take a second.” She struggles to maintain her grasp on her wand.
“Will you just hold still?”
Rose stops and looks at Scorpius. She’s taken back by the intensity in his expression. He leans in and brushes his lips against hers.
Her complaints die on her lips. She drops her wand. Then her hands act of their own volition. She pushes Scorpius back. “What was that for? Why did you just appear at my door at nearly four in the morning and kiss me? Oh my god, you sent me a salami and I begged you to come over. You think I invited you over for sex.”
Scorpius laughs silently, his body wrenching and his face contorting.
“This isn’t funny.” Rose fumes.
Scorpius schools his face and tries to be very serious. “I promise you, this isn’t about sex. I mean, it can be if you want it to be, but it’s not what I’m here for.”
“What are you here for then?”
“Stop ranting. I’m here because I couldn’t wait to see you after I got your message. I didn’t care that it was the middle of the night. I don’t care that I left a mandatory work retreat and I’ll probably be sacked on Monday. I don’t care about any of those things, I only care about you.”
“As a friend.”
“As everything.”
“But you can’t.”
“I can. And I do.”
“But you’ll ruin everything. We’re such good friends. And you said we could never be friends, you’ve been insisting that for years. And I’ve been trying to prove you wrong. We can be friends, you and I. A man and a woman. A Malfoy and a Weasley.”
“You did prove me wrong.”
“I did?”
“Well no, not technically. I still don’t think a man and a woman can be friends. But I’ve made a new exception.”
“Another one?”
“Yes. Do you want to hear it?”
Rose sighs. “Alright.”
“A man cannot be friends with a woman he finds incredibly attractive, unless he is also madly, deeply, and passionately in love with her.”
Rose feels tears slipping down her cheeks. She wants to say something, but there are no words for what she is feeling. Well, actually there are hundreds of words, but she can’t speak. Instead, she does something even better. She grabs hold of Scorpius and kisses him.
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Poll You Are the Only Exception
Author: i_am_girlfriday
Prompt: 005. “When I go to a bar, I don't go looking for a girl who knows the capital of Maine." -- David Benner
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy has a theory that men and women can't be friends, and Rose Weasley is out to prove him wrong.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Innuendo, unresolved sexual tension, mild language. Nearly AU or at least nonsensical use of Muggle technology in magical households, and magical products sold for Muggle entertainment.
Word Count: 5,000ish
A/N: Inspired by When Harry Met Sally. Katz’s Deli really is amahzing, and you actually can send a salami in the mail. Title stolen from the song Only Exception by Paramore. Thank you to my beta for pushing me to make this better.
When Rose Weasley learns that Scorpius Malfoy is in her year at Hogwarts, she immediately sets out to introduce herself. It is no secret that there’s bad blood between their families. She thinks the best way to deal with generations of animosity is to look him directly in the eye and offer her friendship.
Rose tucks her curls behind her ears and stands up straight and tall. She marches up to Scorpius, who’s holding court at one of the Slytherin dining tables.
“Ahem.” She taps him on the shoulder.
Scorpius turns around. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Rose Weasley,” she says with confidence.
One of the older boys snickers. “Like we couldn’t tell.”
Rose pretends not to hear him. “You’re Scorpius Malfoy. I think we should be friends.”
Scorpius smiles widely. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Rose is crestfallen. “I know our families have never been friendly, but we don’t have to be like them. We can be different--show them that Weasleys and Malfoys can be friends.”
“It’s nothing personal. It’s not a Weasley-Malfoy thing. I just don’t want to be friends with you.”
“But why?”
“Because you’re a girl.”
“What?”
“Boys and girls can’t be friends.”
“That’s rubbish. I have loads of boy friends.”
More snickering erupts from the crowd.
“Those are your cousins. They don’t count because you’re related.”
“What a convenient exception to your rule.” Rose wrinkles her nose. “I think it’s the barmiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
Rose stands there awkwardly, wondering how her plan has failed so miserably.
“It was nice meeting you, Rose Weasley.” Scorpius holds his hand up and waves.
“Wish I could say the same,” Rose says under her breath as she walks away.
***
Rose nurses her second martini. Richard is off schmoozing with his boss from Gringotts International Wizarding Bank. By the looks of it, it is a successful night for them both. Rose really likes Richard; they both want the same things in life. After a month of dating she’s glad to finally take the next step--meeting his friends and colleagues. It’s only been a few months since she and Ben broke up, but Rose is happy to be in a new relationship. She was momentarily single after moving to New York six years ago, but luckily Gabriel had come along shortly after. Then there was that unfortunate and brief period of overlap with him and Ben, but that’s in the past now. Rose is pretty sure she and Richard could go the distance.
Rose is busier than ever with Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Her concept to develop products for Muggles is taking off. The flagship store in Times Square is just weeks from opening, and her first shop in magical Manhattan has been going “gangbusters,” according to her General Manager, this holiday season. Her professional life is going great, and now she’s committed to making her romantic life just as strong.
She glances around the room and scowls. Scorpius is getting another drink and the cloying blonde hasn’t left his side all night. Not that she wanted to talk to him anyway. His upper crust rearing has done little to refine his social graces. Whenever they run into each other he always says something completely absurd. Not that they’ve run into each other recently. She last saw him after graduating from London School of Economics, and of course their social circles brought them into contact more frequently while they were in school.
The boss’ wife, Shirley, approaches Rose and they chat about the unseasonably warm winter weather and the changing trends in women’s robes. She tries to leave a good impression. She knows Richard is hoping for a promotion in the New Year.
Scorpius catches her unawares. “Rose. Is that you?”
Rose arches an eyebrow. She hates that he pretends not to recognize her.
Rose’s companion smiles. “Do you two know each other? What a nice coincidence!”
“Scorpius and I went to school together.”
“Is that so? What a small world! Did you know you were both in New York?”
Rose laughs stiffly. “We sure did.” She shoots Scorpius a glare. “Funny story...” Rose notices a small crowd gathering to hear her. “On the eve of our arrival to the states I had to spend four hours in Scorpius’s company while we waited at the Ministry.”
“International Portkey issues,” Scorpius adds.
“Right. Well, Scorpius delighted me with his theories about friendship between men and women. You see, we’ve known each other for ages and he’s always had very antiquated views about gender relations. They’re really quite--”
“--Insightful?” Scorpius offers.
“I was going to say 'offensive'. There I was, scared witless about leaving England, but also so happy to find out that I was going to know someone in New York.”
“How nice!” Shirley claps her hands together.
“It doesn’t end there. The point of this story is that he said, and I quote: ‘Men and women can’t be friends because of the unresolved sexual tension.’” Rose pauses and waits for the chuckles--people always laugh when she repeats this story at cocktail parties. “I asked him, ‘Surely there’s an exception if the man doesn’t find the woman attractive?’”
“And then I said, ‘No, men pretty much want to bed them too.’”
There’s laughter and a few of the men punch Scorpius playfully. Some of the wives purse their lips disapprovingly.
“There you have it, Shirley. Our not-at-all sordid history.” Rose grins.
“I’ve since revised my theory again--if anyone is interested in hearing it? A man and a woman can be friends if they are both in relationships. It eases the sexual tension.” People chuckle politely.
“There you go, ladies and gentleman. The comedic styling of Scorpius Malfoy,” Rose says wryly.
The group breaks up to mingle, leaving Scorpius alone with Rose.
“You made me look like right git, Rose."
“I don’t think you needed my help to look like a git.” She beams at him.
“Are you sure you’re not just upset that you lost your chance to get friendly with me?” He teases.
“Believe it or not, Scorpius, I never considered not sleeping with you to be a big sacrifice.”
“Touché.”
Rose downs the rest of her drink and eyes the bar.
“So I guess we could put my newest exception to the test now.”
She looks at him with confusion.
“Since we’re both in relationships.”
Rose laughs despite herself. “I better get going, I haven’t seen my boyfriend in a while.” She straightens her shoulders. “Goodbye, Scorpius.”
***
“I’ll have a double chai latte and a pumpkin scone.” Rose hands the cashier a ten dollar bill. Over her shoulder she notices Scorpius waiting by the counter. She collects her change and tries to grab a table at the far end of the café. She pulls out her notebook and puts her head down, studying the third quarter financial reports from WWW. A few minutes pass and Rose thinks she’s lucked out, but when she looks up his tall figure is right in front of her.
“Hi, Rose. I thought that was you.” Scorpius pulls out a chair and joins her.
“Hello.” She is curt with him, hoping it will deter him from staying long. “How are you?”
“Wonderful, actually. I got married.” He’s glowing like a smug bastard.
“Married?” Rose feels all the color drain from her face. “To whom?”
“Heather Merriweather. She kept her last name. She’s from a long line of American wizards and witches out of Salem.”
Rose looks at him with skepticism. “Same woman from the party?”
“What was that, last winter?”
“Blonde, tall, big--”
Scorpius’s eyes grow wide wondering where she’s going with this.
“--Personality.” Rose purses her lips.
“Yes, that’s Heather!” He beams.
“I wish you nothing but joy.” Rose stands and gathers her things, hoping her order is up next.
“Are you still with Richard?”
“Yes, we just bought a place together.” Rose smiles, but hates how it feels something like competition.
“Congratulations.”
“To you as well. I have to get going.” Rose waves and rushes to the counter when the barista calls her name. She cannot leave the café fast enough.
***
Rose throws herself into work more than ever. Richard feels like a distant memory, except when she sees the box of his things he forgot when he left her six weeks ago. She swallows her emotions. She hasn’t cried at all. She’s happy he’s gone. They wanted different things.
Rose loves being from a big family, she’s just not sure she wants one for herself, and certainly not right now. Part of moving to the states was to prove she could be independent and totally self-reliant. She’s done that for years and it was unfair for Richard to ask her to be a different kind of woman. It’s times like these that she envies the sort of relationship her parents have. They know each other inside and out and still want to be with together.
When Rose is not at the office reviewing the corporate financials, she’s taking International Portkeys to work in the lab with the Research & Development team. When she’s not out doing press about the Times Square tourist Mecca and the launch of a new location, she’s walking the sales floor, interacting with the kids and families shopping. The pace she’s set worries her uncle George, but she and her cousin Freddie are determined to corner the market on wizarding crossover products. While fixing a messy display of The Adventures of Martin Miggs, The Mad Muggle, Rose notices a grown man looking at the trading card display near the Chocolate Frogs.
She recognizes him immediately, though his perfectly coiffed hair is disheveled and he’s wearing mismatched trainers. It’s been two years since she saw him at the café. “Scorpius, hi.” She uses a gentler tone than she probably would have in the past.
He does a double take. “I thought you have employees to run the place.”
“I do. But I confess, I love to come down every now and then and just watch people shop.”
Scorpius looks wistful. He’s holding a Newt Scamander card. “Whenever I’m feeling homesick I come here.”
She holds her hand to her mouth and whispers, “To a wizarding joke shop that caters mostly to Muggle tourists?”
He laughs. “I’ve never really liked Broome Street.”
Rose agrees. The New York City equivalent of Diagon Alley is crawling with hipsters and is too gentrified to really be reminiscent of home.
“What about McGilly Waters in Greenwich Village?”
“Good pub, bad food.”
There’s a lull in the conversation. “Well, how about it? Can I buy you a pint and some cold chips?”
“You heard about me and Heather, then?” Scorpius looks nothing like the happy man she saw a couple of years ago, and even further from the cocky boy she used to know at school who didn’t want to be her friend because she’s a girl.
“I’m sorry.” Rose leans in and hugs him. He looks like he could use it, and quite frankly, so could she.
***
“You need to get back out there, Rose.”
Rose laughs hysterically at this--Scorpius giving her dating advice. Instead she goes back up to the counter and orders more pickles. She doesn’t care about retaining water weight or even the fact that her hair desperately needs a deep conditioning. Scorpius hates Katz’s Deli, but that’s because he’s always been a bit of a snob. They had a long laugh about Katz's “Send a Salami to Your Boy in the Army” program. It started back in World War II, but it turns out you can send one to anyone these days. Rose had thought they’d make great gifts to her friends and family back home, but she changed her mind after Scorpius made a series of lewd jokes.
Rose and Scorpius have lunch or dinner several times a week. They fight about who’s going to pay every time the bill comes. Contrary to her former opinions about his social graces, Scorpius really can be chivalrous when he chooses. But as Rose points out, he’s not expected to pick up the tab since they are just friends. She quite likes being named one of the richest witches by Fortune Hunters magazine. It’s still a thrill to treat herself and friends to a meal any time she wants. It doesn’t really cross their minds to split the bill or pay only their share.
“If I have to start dating again, then so do you. What’s it been now?”
“Five months, three weeks, and two days.”
“You’ve got to stop counting the days since your divorce.”
“It’s sad.” He sighs.
“No. We crossed sad when Heather changed her phone number and stopped accepting your owl messages. This is just pathetic. And I say that as one of your best mates.”
“Only mate.” He pouts.
Rose considers this. He’d always insisted they couldn’t be friends, and Rose had honestly stopped trying to prove him wrong. But they’re in different places now--both fresh out of significant relationships and neither of them looking to dive back into dating. “You have friends,” Rose says with a mouthful of hot pastrami.
“No, not really. Heather got custody of them too,” he grumbles. “And must you eat like that? Where do you put it all?” Scorpius looks under the table. It’s one of their many running jokes.
“You make it sound like you two had kids! And I’ll have you know, I have my father’s metabolism--”
“--And your mother’s crazy hair.” He pulls a frizzy strand that has somehow made it’s way to the front of his shirt.
Rose throws a pickle at his plate.
“We had a dog.” Scorpius returns to his whining.
“You hate dogs. You said her dog was a yappy little rat.”
“I miss the little fellow.”
“Pathetic...” Rose sighs heavily. “Look, these things take time. But you can’t hide away forever either. First dates are always awkward, but they’re something everyone has to get through before you get to the good stuff.”
“Are you talking about sex?”
Rose rolls her eyes. Scorpius has the maturity level of a fifteen year old boy. “No, I’m talking about intimacy.”
“Oh. So you do mean sex.” He smirks.
“Let’s face it, if we can barely think about dating, it could be ages before we’re ready to take it to the next level and be sexually active again.”
“Who said anything about not being sexually active?”
“Well, I just assumed.” Rose blushes. Every now and then she and Scorpius hit the boundaries of what they can talk about in their platonic friendship. Actually, Rose has drawn much stricter boundaries--nothing is off limits for Scorpius.
“Merlin’s pants, Rose. How long has it been for you?” He makes a crass hand gesture.
“If we’re going to talk about this, I’m going to need something a little stiffer than vanilla cream soda.” Scorpius opens his mouth, but Rose cuts him off. “I beg of you, let that one lie... So...seriously, how long has it been, since, you know?”
“Thursday.”
“This Thursday? With whom? Wait--I don’t want to know.”
***
Rose sets out a new tray of crackers and replenishes the hummus. She watches her friends and co-workers mingling. Her friend Rebecca, the General Manager at the Broome Street shop, gives her a wink. Rose smiles back. She’s hosting game night at her place so everyone can meet Derek. They’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now. He’s on Scorpius’s recreational Quidditch team--they met one afternoon when Rose was watching Scorpius play. It’s perhaps a little early to introduce him to her friends, but she likes being a part of a couple again.
Everyone arrived forty-five minutes ago and people are anxious to get the games going. Scorpius is late, as usual. She wishes Scorpius would put in a little more effort with her friends. Rose has always maintained a close group of witches and wizards. She knows Scorpius’s air of superiority is just a defense mechanism, but it means he’s rubbish at making new connections.
Rose sets up a few card tables with chairs. She opens up her wizard chess set, shuffles a few decks of cards, pulls out Smarty Party, and puts in new batteries for the Taboo buzzer. She’s designed the whole evening so people move from station to station and play a couple of turns before moving on to the next game. After they break for dinner they’ll play a few rounds of Pictionary or charades as a group.
By the time she’s finished, Scorpius turns up alone with an expensive bottle of wine and a string of excuses. Rose is furious. Rebecca’s husband and Derek are already itching to play Blackjack so everyone greets Scorpius in a hurry and finds their places at the tables.
“Why don’t you start without me, I just need to check on dinner,” Rose says as she heads into the kitchen, hiding the deep blush on her face.
Rose uses her wand with a bit more force than she intends, snapping the oven door shut with a loud thud. In a fit of fury she stifles a scream into a tea towel. Rose asked Scorpius to bring a date to game night because all of her friends are in couples and it’s much easier to play with even teams. He had assured her he’d bring a date, even if it meant breaking his one night stand rule. It bothered Rose in a way she couldn’t explain. They’d fought about it loudly over drinks on Tuesday night.
“You can’t hide in here forever. It’s your party, Rose.” Scorpius says, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Rose shoots him a dirty look. “It’s game night. Everything works better with even teams.”
“But it’ll still work even if they aren’t. So come out now.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eye.
Something in Rose breaks. She can’t let it go. She only started dating Derek because Scorpius insisted that it was time for her to move on. If he hadn’t been so encouraging then maybe they’d be each other’s partner for game night, and instead of arguing in the kitchen they’d actually be playing.
“Scorpius, I don’t understand, you promised. You promised you’d bring a date tonight.”
“Who cares, Rose? It’s not a big deal. It’s just a little party.”
“It is a big deal! But this is so typical of you, belittling me and my ‘little party.’ I asked you to do one thing--bring a date.”
“Well excuse me, but when I go to a bar, I don't go looking for a girl who knows the capital of Maine!”
Rose scoffs. “That’s rich! But I guess at least you’re being honest.” She breaks free from his hold and pulls out her wand from her apron. She levitates his expensive bottle of wine to the counter and waves her wand to remove the cork. She doesn’t even let the bottle breathe--just pours it directly into her large goblet.
“We’re different, Rose. You’re willing to commit to the first bloke who came along after Richard because you think that means you’ve got some sort of standard. Let’s face it, you’re a serial monogamist.”
“You say that like monogamy is a bad thing. At least I haven’t slept with half of Manhattan! You might have to relocate just so you can find a woman you haven’t already screwed!”
“So I sleep around! So what? At least I’m not like you.”
“Like me! Like how? Well adjusted and willing to risk getting hurt so I can feel something? Do you actually have a heart or is that just a lump of coal thumping inside your chest?”
“You think you’re so much better than me. I see you judging me. I know you think I’m just this huge fuck up. But you’re not all that different than me. You jump from one relationship to the next. Trust me, you’re at no risk of getting hurt because you’re with men you don’t love. You’re an emotional slut, and that’s the worst kind.” Scorpius’s words hit her like a slap in the face. “Shite.” Scorpius looks like he wants to take it all back. “Rose, I’m sorry.”
“Get out.” She feels all the color drain from her face. Her hands are shaking. She sets the goblet down before she accidentally breaks it.
“Let me explain.”
“Don’t bother. You’ve made it clear from the first day I met you--when we were eleven years old--we cannot be friends!” She screams. Her voice shocks her. She lowers it, remembering her guests. “You told me that much again when I was twenty-two, and now, almost ten years later I think I finally got your message.” Rose opens the kitchen door and holds it for Scorpius. She can’t bear to look at him, scared of what she might see.
***
Voice Mail
9:52 AM
“It’s been a week now. You’re still not taking my calls. It’s Saturday morning. Call me back. We can get breakfast at the place you like and talk.”
Voice Mail
11:37 AM
“I look ridiculous. I’m sitting at Alice’s Tea Cup. Alone. You know I hate this place. But the scones are to die for. I’ve ordered too much hash. Call me.”
***
Voice Mail
7:25 PM
“It’s me. I’m sorry. I don’t know how many grovelling messages I can leave... I haven’t heard from you and I’m starting to get worried. Maybe you’re trapped under a bookshelf and it’s too heavy for you to pick up. And maybe you’ve snapped your wand. And hit your head and can’t manage wandless magic... You have two options, either pick up your phone and call me back or I’ll call your cousin. I’m pretty sure you’re still taking Al’s calls. Call me.”
***
“Rose, you have a delivery,” her doorman says as she walks in from an evening jog.
“Thanks, Tony.” Rose signs for the package and then heads into the elevator.
She examines the address--it’s local, but not one she recognizes. Once she makes it inside her apartment she rips off the tape with swish of her wand. She unwraps the top layer of paper only to discover a two and half pound salami from Katz’s Deli. There is no note, but Rose already knows it's from Scorpius.
She allows herself to smile for the first time since their fight began. She knows she’s been a bloody horror to deal with at work. Her employees have been avoiding eye contact and tend to find themselves very busy as soon as Rose enters the building. The salami doesn’t fix everything, but it’s something.
Rose scrawls a note and goes to her owl’s cage. Her name is Buffy, and she’s a beautiful snowy creature that her father gave her on her thirteenth birthday. She’s getting up there in age but still enjoys soaring above the city among the skyscrapers and the clouds. Rose strokes her head and Buffy makes sounds of appreciation. Rose doesn’t send messages by owl usually--she prefers the Muggle cell phone--but some messages are better on parchment.
I got the salami. How fast can you get here with the wine and cheese?
***
Rose paces her flat and wonders if she’s been too presumptuous. Perhaps Scorpius is out on the prowl, picking up another cocktail waitress named Kimberly, no last name. It’s Saturday evening. Men like him don’t spend them by the phone waiting for a platonic friend’s forgiveness over a stupid row.
Hours and minutes tick by, and finally, by nine-thirty Rose accepts that Scorpius isn’t coming over. She has two options: she can put on a sappy romantic comedy, eat salami, and cry, or she can take a bath and get to bed early so she can face Scorpius on Sunday. Rose decides on all of the above. She drags her Muggle laptop to the vanity and puts on a classic Drew Barrymore flick, runs a bath, and sinks down into the water. Between dabbing her eyes and yelling obscenities at Justin Long, Rose nibbles on the salami. Rose tells herself the tears are for Derek, but that just makes her cry more. Scorpius was right--Rose has a bad habit of committing too soon to men she doesn’t even love.
Who is pathetic now, she wonders.
***
Rose awakens in her bed to the sound of scratching. She wonders if she forgot to leave the window open for Buffy. She pulls on a silk robe and goes to the living room to investigate. The sound is coming from the door, like someone is trying to pick her lock. Rose grabs her wand tightly in her hand, recalling all the spells she learned in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Then she realizes that if the burglar is picking her lock he must be a Muggle. She runs to the bedroom and looks for her Beater’s bat. She arms herself.
Finally, there is a soft click as the lock slides out of place. A dark figure enters and fumbles with the lights. Just as they flicker to life, Rose calls out, “Immobulus!”
There in the soft light is a frozen Scorpius, very much worse for wear. He looks like he hasn’t combed his hair in a month, hasn’t eaten in more.
“Merlin’s beard! Scorpius, I thought you were a burglar.” Rose undoes her Freezing Charm.
“You think burglars let themselves in with their spare key?” He jingles his key chain.
“Bugger. I forgot about that. Well, what was with the fumbling? I heard scratching noises.”
“I couldn’t remember which key was yours. I kept trying to force my office key, but I finally figured it out.”
Rose yawns. She went to bed only after she’d eaten half a salami and become almost mortally pruned by tepid bathwater. She feels her face; her eyes are puffy from crying.
“I expect you were sleeping.”
“Well, that is generally what people do at half three in the morning.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Buffy delivered your message at a most inopportune moment.”
Rose can’t help herself, “When you were leaving the bar with a woman?” Jealousy makes her do stupid things.
Scorpius lets her words hang in the air. “I deserved that. I have been acting like a total wanker.”
Rose musters her courage and says, “I haven’t made this easy on you, and I know you’re not entirely to blame. I said some terrible things to you. I've been avoiding you because I’m rather ashamed of my own behaviour.”
“We both said things in the heat of the moment that are...regretful. Anyhow, I was at a corporate retreat in Hudson Valley tonight. I had to wait until my bosses finished drunken karaoke. Then I Apparated here as quickly as I could.”
“Why? It could have waited until you got back from the retreat. I would have understood.”
“No. It couldn’t. I couldn’t. I can’t wait.”
Rose feels a chill. She pulls her wand from her pocket so she can shut the windows and summon a blanket. Scorpius approaches her. He stills her movements, puts his hands on her shoulders.
“Stop fidgeting.”
“It’ll just take a second.” She struggles to maintain her grasp on her wand.
“Will you just hold still?”
Rose stops and looks at Scorpius. She’s taken back by the intensity in his expression. He leans in and brushes his lips against hers.
Her complaints die on her lips. She drops her wand. Then her hands act of their own volition. She pushes Scorpius back. “What was that for? Why did you just appear at my door at nearly four in the morning and kiss me? Oh my god, you sent me a salami and I begged you to come over. You think I invited you over for sex.”
Scorpius laughs silently, his body wrenching and his face contorting.
“This isn’t funny.” Rose fumes.
Scorpius schools his face and tries to be very serious. “I promise you, this isn’t about sex. I mean, it can be if you want it to be, but it’s not what I’m here for.”
“What are you here for then?”
“Stop ranting. I’m here because I couldn’t wait to see you after I got your message. I didn’t care that it was the middle of the night. I don’t care that I left a mandatory work retreat and I’ll probably be sacked on Monday. I don’t care about any of those things, I only care about you.”
“As a friend.”
“As everything.”
“But you can’t.”
“I can. And I do.”
“But you’ll ruin everything. We’re such good friends. And you said we could never be friends, you’ve been insisting that for years. And I’ve been trying to prove you wrong. We can be friends, you and I. A man and a woman. A Malfoy and a Weasley.”
“You did prove me wrong.”
“I did?”
“Well no, not technically. I still don’t think a man and a woman can be friends. But I’ve made a new exception.”
“Another one?”
“Yes. Do you want to hear it?”
Rose sighs. “Alright.”
“A man cannot be friends with a woman he finds incredibly attractive, unless he is also madly, deeply, and passionately in love with her.”
Rose feels tears slipping down her cheeks. She wants to say something, but there are no words for what she is feeling. Well, actually there are hundreds of words, but she can’t speak. Instead, she does something even better. She grabs hold of Scorpius and kisses him.
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