So, even though I started this as a oneshot and then decided for it to be a double-shot, I decided that I could actually just continue this whenever the mood hits me, because it's turning out to be a series of random moments between Scorpius and Rose. I really enjoy this version of Scorpius and Rose, too, and it could be fun to cover more of their… uh, adventures. Do let me know if you enjoyed this – would make my day. Thank you so much for the reviews so far!

2. Closet

Scorpius Malfoy was in a broom closet, which wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence. Except today he wasn't there for the usual reason.

Useful things, broom closets. So often it so graciously facilitated the pleasures of hormone-induced debauchery, including—and not limited to—the careless unbuttoning of blouses or the feeling up of a shapely bum. And Scorpius had felt up his share of shapely bums. Broom closets fairly brought out the gropey side of him.

It was dark and cramped spot. A natural habitat for sexual deviants like himself.

But, curiously enough, Scorpius wasn't there today to grope a girl. He was in the broom closet to get away from a girl, which wasn't very much like him at all. At the moment, he had his hands very much to himself, his own breaths heavy in the muffled silence of the closet. The seconds ticked, each moment pendulous with foreboding.

If one didn't know better, they would say Scorpius Malfoy was hiding from something.

Then, without warning, the door of broom closet swung open. The overwhelming afternoon light spilled in, blinding Scorpius ever so briefly.

And like a vision, there she was.

Rose Weasley.

Not for the first time, Scorpius felt mouth dry up at the sight of her. She didn't look any different than she always did.

Which was to say, she looked devastating.

But even more compelling was the oddly inquisitive expression in her cornflower blue eyes. She didn't seem remotely upset, but that was just another one of her special qualities. Rose had a sweet, soft-faced appeal, but she had never been particularly expressive. And Scorpius loved that about her. It had become a game for him, to coax an adorable little quirk into her lips… one that would lead to a smile that lit up her entire face.

How dreamy she was when she smiled.

The door shut firmly behind her, startling him back to reality. Rose turned to face Scorpius in the dim closet, the flickering light bulb harshly illuminating her delicate features. She looked breathless and windswept… lips parted and somewhat winded, her eyes unnaturally bright. Almost instantly, Scorpius longed to run his fingers through her unruly red hair, have her come apart even further under his own hands. When Rose lifted her gaze to meet his, he felt his heart sink to his knees.

Her loveliness was simply unfair.

The closet air was stagnant and musky between them. This was usually cue for Scorpius to launch into some sort of lewd adventure—but this was Rose, and he didn't want to be near her at all. He couldn't be near her. Even if she was just there, more desirable than anything he'd ever known… and that included Quidditch Cups, freshly polished broomsticks, and ten naked Madison Bards.

Hell, the three best months of his entire life was staring back at him. Close enough to kiss. Perfectly fit to fuck.

And he couldn't bring himself to touch her.

In this close proximity, he could detect the minute signs of distress in her usually cool countenance. There was an imperceptible knot between her eyebrows, and her nervous blinking had returned. In the past three months, Scorpius had kissed his way across the dainty slopes and planes of that little heartshaped face... And it was alarming to him how, even in the absence of her lovely smile, he found her utterly delectable.

"So it really is me," Rose was saying, the words barely registering with Scorpius. "You're avoiding me, then. So this is what it's like."

"What?" Frankly, he was still too distracted by her prettiness to comprehend anything she saying. He hadn't come face-to-face with Rose for days, and this was all too much, too quickly.

"I'm one of them now, aren't I? One of those silly fools you've cast aside, pining hopelessly after you—"

"You're pining after me?" he asked stupidly.

There was a flash of resignation in Rose's clear eyes. "Everything they said was true. You're a playboy."

"A—wait, what?"

"A playboy." Rose chewed miserably on her lower lip as she surveyed him, as though he was an unenlightened, pitiful creature rather than the smitten pervert she'd been sharing Butterbeers with the past three months. "A womanising… skirt-chasing… philanderer."

The conversation was moving too fast. "Philanderer? Now hold on just a—"

"You were running from me! I saw you throw yourself in here the moment you saw me coming your way. Don't even deny it."

"Look, I wasn't avoiding you." It was a weak excuse, but it wasn't exactly untrue. "I—I just need a breather."

"In a broom closet?" she said incredulously.

"Rose," he said forcefully. Just her name on his tongue gave him a jolt of pleasure… even more so when a slow, charming blush filled her cheeks.

"Is my time up, Scorpius?" she asked in a small voice. "Because I won't make a scene. I suppose I just…" She trailed off. The blush was now edging into the slant of her cheekbones, and she seemed to steel herself, finishing her train of thought in a rush. "I suppose it's best to end this on good terms. With a goodbye kiss."

Scorpius stared at her in disbelief. "…A goodbye kiss."

"Yes." Rose lifted her chin defiantly, folding her arms in front of her in that endearing stance she liked to take whenever they debated something, as though it gave her more power in an argument. "Then we can both move on properly. You to a girl like Madison Bard, and I—"

Oh, hell. This he had to hear. "Who would you move on to, pray tell?"

"Well," she said indignantly, her blush deepening. "Oliver Watts, most likely."

Oliver Watts. Oliver fucking Watts. The friendly, tawny-haired Gryffindor Keeper who shared Rose's unbridled passion for Astronomy… and who was also now officially dead in Scorpius' eyes. His gaze hardened, and he felt an irritated lurch in the pit of his stomach at the unwavering confidence in Rose's declaration. "Why," he said through clenched teeth, "the hell would you move on to Watts, of all people?"

"I think he likes me." Her tone was maddeningly casual.

"Oh, does he now?"

"He tried to take a whiff of my hair the other day." Rose tilted her head at the memory. "I wanted to ask you, by the way. Is that something boys do, when they fancy a girl? Sniff her hair?"

Scorpius fought to keep his voice neutral. "Boys want to do a lot more to girls they fancy."

She shrugged. "So maybe I'll let him do more than sniff my hair."

More than sniff—Merlin. Scorpius couldn't help his stare from boring into Rose's innocently freckled face. "Why do you like the tosser, then?"

"He's not a tosser, he's my friend—"

"Why do you like the tosser?" he repeated.

"Well." Rose straightened slightly, as though answering a question in class. "He's nice, for one."

"Nice." He could barely conceal his disdain.

"Yes. He's a complete gentleman. Unlike some people, he'd never jump me in between classes."

"Probably won't talk dirty to you during Charms."

Rose returned his gaze without flinching. "Or give me a hickey in the library."

Scorpius couldn't resist a rakish grin at the reminder. "He'd never feel you up under your jumper."

There was a twinkle in her eye now. "And he'll know how to finish a game of Wizard's Chess."

"A much healthier pursuit than trying to take your clothes off."

"I'm sure he won't be grabbing my bum, either."

"He won't ever kiss you under a shower of stars."

"There will be other meteor showers."

"Not one like ours. It comes only once a century, remember?"

That he had mentioned this particular astronomical fact about the Zisis Showers seemed to surprise Rose. She made a soft sound between a laugh and a gasp, an affectionate fondness stealing into her the cornflower blue crinkle of her eyes.

Their gazes locked. For a brief moment Scorpius felt rather like a drowning man, swallowed up hopelessly by a vicious tide... he felt completely arrested by her. In turn, all he wanted was to push Rose up against the wall and stake his claim on her. His thoughts were running wild—a punishing kiss, a telling love bite… he needed something, anything, to ward every other boy off of her, to make her his alone. The seething jealousy in his gut was further enflamed by the sudden recollection of Rose concentrating on the chess board one autumn evening, the tip of a pale shoulder coming free from her knitted jumper. The sight had enamoured him to no end... Scorpius had lost the game the moment he reached out for her, upsetting the chess board so he could draw her close across the table and run his hungry mouth across her elegant collarbone.

Bloody hell. He was going mad. Scorpius' breaths were coming out in a disjointed rhythm now, and his fingers were trembling from the effort not to touch her… the mere inches that separated them now as torturous to him as the years of pathetic longing that preceded their first kiss.

Unexpectedly, Rose said softly, "Do I make you nervous, Scorpius?"

He didn't move—he couldn't. So he merely stayed still, not unlike a helpless first-year at a Quidditch tryout about to deal with a rogue Bludger, waiting for the inevitable to crash into him. Rose moved forward, taking little steps, until the warmth of her body gradually melded with his.

"Because sometimes I think I do," she continued, so casually she might as well have been talking about the weather. "When I get nervous, I blink… but when you're nervous, you don't. At all."


"Nonsense, is it?" Rose was smiling now. "Yet you're staring at me like a deer in headlights… ah, that's no good… it's a Muggle phrase." She looked thoughtfully past him, then—"Like you've seen a Basilisk."

Despite himself, Scorpius huffed. "I am not Petrified."

"You absolutely are. I could go on." There was an irresistible mischief in her voice now. "You look like a Werewolf catching sight of a moon. A Seeker who swallowed a Snitch. A Dementor in the face of a Pa—"

Rose never got to finish, because Scorpius had closed the minute distance between them and kissed her. She stumbled backwards, an adorable squeak in her throat as he wrapped his fingers at the back of her head, pressing her up against the dusty closet wall. She clutched on to him, and he shuddered as his hardness sought relief against the pliant softness of her. Desperate for more contact, he tilted his head, deepening their kiss so he could plunder the heated sweetness of her mouth.

"Rose…" He mumbled between kisses, unable to resist working up the fuzzy surface of her jumper, "if you go out with Watts, I'll kill him."

"Oh," she sighed, as a hot palm caressed the bare skin of her back. "That would be inconvenient."

"You'll have to help me move the body."

"Well then," she said, trembling as he dragged his mouth across her jawline, leaving a trail of breathless kisses under her ear, "We'll just have to make sure Oliver doesn't get the wrong idea."

Her arms had circled around his neck, and he found her mouth once more, running a teasing tongue along hers as she opened up to him, the sensually damp warmth of her kiss sending a shiver of lust through him. Merlin, he had needed this for days… Rose uttered a muffled whimper as his hand went under her skirt, squeezing gently at her bum. Her very shapely bum. Scorpius smirked into the kiss, and Rose tugged insistently at his blond hair… her wordless protests going ignored as he forced her hips against his, his fingers slipping slyly beneath her cotton knickers to caress the curves there.

"I'm a nice guy too, you know," he whispered huskily, nipping hotly at her ear. "But you make me want to do very, very bad things."

"You do this to every girl you're with."

"But yours is the only bum I want for myself."

Rose blinked back at him, a tender blush filling her cheeks once more. Their noses brushed, breaths hot against each others' mouths. Scorpius looked at her, into the lovely blue depths of her eyes, and felt a slow, urgent ache growing beneath his heaving chest.

"This is mine, too." He lowered his head, nuzzling fiercely at the sweet curve between her neck and shoulder. He ran his fingers through her red locks, curling them between the digits. "And this… Watts can't fucking have it. Nobody can."

"Scorpius," Rose murmured, as he leaned in and kissed the bow of her lower lip. "Why were you hiding from me?"

Merlin, that question again. How could he explain the effect she had on him without sounding like a mad man? How could he explain that he had been chronically infatuated with her… and that dating her was only making him worse?

He wanted her to be his. Unequivocally.

Instead, Scorpius managed a mirthless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her and engulfing her small frame against him. He had spent days avoiding her, trying to hold back from needing her too much… but now that she was in his arms, he was lost again. His feelings for her were entirely too reckless to be contained.

It was almost frightening to him, how consumed he was by just the presence of her.

"You terrify me, Rose," he admitted thickly, his breaths ragged against her slight shoulder. "I don't think you understand how mad I am about you."

"I think I do." Her familiar stubbornness made him smile. Rose drew away slightly from his hold, her lush lashes tickling gently against his cheek. "Are you hiding because you love me?"

The way she said it, as though she was reciting some astronomical fact, drew a breathless laugh from Scorpius. Rose bit back a smile, her hands coming up to cradle his face. He turned his head slightly, stealing a kiss from her wrist. His heart was skittering under his swollen lungs, so loudly that he was sure it would reveal everything before he said it himself.

"Do you mind?" he whispered.

Rose didn't answer for a long moment. Scorpius felt her fingers curl gently against his cheeks, and then there was the lightest of kisses against the corner of his mouth.

"Just the hiding part," she said at last. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She was studying him, Scorpius realised. She hesitated for a moment, then—"Did you enjoy the Zisis Showers?"

"Yes." Scorpius thumbed affectionately at her freckled cheek, trying to understand where her question was headed. "Didn't you?"

"I don't know." She sounded faintly confused, as though she was trying to solve a riddle he had no part in. "I was looking at you."

The earth seemed to stop spinning on its axis, right then and there.

She had been looking at him... during a meteor storm that only happened once a century.

Scorpius stilled, his breath caught in his throat at the implication of her words. Rose didn't seem to understand it herself. Instead, she was staring at him with an oddly faraway expression, as though she found him as fascinating as the constellations themselves. There was something fetching about the way her eyes were fixed on him, the soft depths filled some strange mixture of curiosity and fondness that made her sweet, kiss-flushed face even more endearing to him.

Maybe, Scorpius thought, caught between euphoria and disbelief, maybe…

"You're going to fall in love with me," he said slowly, suddenly filled with a frightening certainty.

"What?" Rose said, blinking out of her daydream. She didn't seem to have heard him. But Scorpius had already tugged her to him, his mouth capturing hers in a hungry, searing kiss. Rose gasped as he worked off her jumper, fingers deftly moving to unbutton the top of her blouse. "What are you doing?" she asked dazedly, as he leaned in to ravish her collarbones.

Scorpius lifted his head, biting gently into her plush lower lip as his heavy-lidded gaze met hers.

"Persuading you, of course," he whispered, loosening his tie with a deliberation that made her knees weak. And then they were no longer talking.