Moments from the romance between Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley.
Rose was a Weasley. She had bright ginger hair that fell to her shoulders. It twisted and fluffed like her mother's, but the color was distinct. She was short, built like an athlete. Her eyes were a bright, clear blue- her father's eyes.
Scorpius was a Malfoy. His hair was so blonde it was almost white. Unlike his father, however, he wore it long. It was pin-straight, immovable, but he mussed it as best he could. He was tall, slim, and sharp featured. His eyes were grey, cold- his father's eyes.
To the chagrin of his father, who preferred Potions, Scorpius excelled at Herbology. He spent long hours in the green houses with Professor Longbottom, who praised him and granted him access to more dangerous greenhouses every year. Now, in his sixth year, he had begun to work in Greenhouse Seven- and it was there he found the rosebush. He had wondered at it- and indeed, had asked the Professor why roses were in this one, instead of Greenhouse One, with the other harmless plants. Professor Longbottom simply smiled, and told him that roses were far from harmless.
"Do you really think we'd let first years give each other roses?"
He liked her.
He liked how her hand was always the first up in class, how her hair had a life of its own. He liked how her eyes flashed when anger- usually at him- flared up inside her. He liked how the anger seemed to fill all of her small body until her energy seemed to crackle around her, from her clenched fists to her mouth, drawn thin in a line.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he gave her a rose.
They did not meet on the Hogwarts Express.
They met during the second Potions class of their First Year, when an aging Professor Slughorn declared that interhouse unity was paramount and so paired Slytherins with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs with Ravenclaws.
The first thing he noticed about her was that her hair matched the scarlet in her Gryffindor crest perfectly.
Rose looked him up and down, grabbed some ingredients, and began to work. He was rather surprised- Father had insisted that all Weasleys were liable to pick a fight over everything.
"Are you going to help me?"
As his answer, he grabbed the scales and started to measure out powdered moonstone.
They worked in silence for the rest of the period.
On the Quidditch field, their rivalry had the making of legend.
The crowd split between them, Slytherin supporters and Gryffindor fans, and when they fought for the quaffle, the noise was deafening. None cheered louder than their fathers, however, who made it a point to attend these particular games, when they could safely reinstate their old rivalry without mucking up memories of the war.
Their fathers cheered, oblivious to the rest of the game, determined that their child would beat the other.
Chaser versus Chaser, they flew, working out the tension that had begun to flare between them on the long walks between classes, during the arguments that occurred more frequently each year.
They had been friends for years now, he reminded himself. They walked together to class and smiled at each other from their tables in the Great Hall. They did homework together in the Library and in all likelihood would be Head Boy and Girl together next year.
So why was it so difficult to ask her on a date?
He'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice her until she was right in front of him. "Hello, Ro."
She looked exhausted. There were deep circles under her eyes and her face looked thin. Her hair was tucked away carelessly in a half-ponytail and had begun to take on a life of its own.
She was beautiful.
Without another word, he grabbed her bag and put it over his shoulder. She made an annoyed noise. "Scorp, I am perfectly capable of-"
"I know you're perfectly capable, I'm being a gentleman." He smirked at her.
She let loose a little growl and began to stalk down the hallway. He caught up to her easily and walked beside her, one long stride of his for every few short ones she made.
"I completely failed that tested. I mixed up 'eihwaz' and 'ehwaz', I just know it, and that was on the O.W.L., I should have known it-"
"Mm-hmm. It's a tragedy, really, Ro. You might only get a one hundred percent for once instead of your usual one hundred fifteen. You are slipping, young lady, and if you don't watch it you just might- OW!"
She whacked him across his shoulder, hard, with one of the books she was still carrying in her arms.
"That bloody hurt! I'm being a gentleman, here, carrying your bag-"
"If you were a gentleman you would have taken all of my books, not just my bag-"
"And what, carry all of mine as well? I only have two arms, Rosie!"
"DON'T CALL ME ROSIE!"
She growled at him again and stalked off. He sighed. "No, Ro, wait. I'm sorry."
She stopped, but the tension in her shoulders held steady. Her hair crackled in the light of the torches on the wall.
He glanced around. They were in an empty corridor now; he had followed her blindly into a part of the castle he didn't know.
But they were alone.
He put his books and her bag on the floor. Cautiously, he walked up behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Ro."
Her shoulders slumped and she leaned into his hands. "I know…Scorpius Lucius."
He snorted. "So you can call me that but I can't call you Rosie?"
She turned to face him and smiled cheekily up at him. "That's the gist of it, yeah."
He laughed, softly, but then she leaned forward, pressed her face into his shoulder, and pressed her hands against his chest. His arms went around her automatically.
"I am so very tired, Scorp."
Surely she could feel his heart pounding?
"Ro…Rose, I need to ask you something."
"What?" Her answer was muffled into his collar.
"Will you come to Hogsmeade with me? I mean, only with me. Not our friends?"
She didn't look up. She didn't need to. "Yes."
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Red roses mean love, right? And pink means friendship?"
Longbottom smiled. "Traditionally, yes. However, these are not pink roses. They are lilac."
"Lilac is a shade of pink, though."
"Yes, however, lilac roses do not convey friendship. They symbolize love at first sight."
His smile widened. "And that, Mr. Malfoy, is why roses are dangerous. You have to be awfully certain that you've loved someone ever since you first saw them before you just let them know about it."
She woke up the morning after their first date to find a strange owl at the window. Clasped in his beak was a single long stemmed pink rose, just beginning to bloom. She stepped into the light, and realized that at certain angles, it looked almost lavender.
A lilac rose.
There was no note attached, but she knew whom it was from. She took the rose and smiled, laid it carefully on her nightstand, and dressed for the day.
Later, they were in the Library working on their homework together as they did every other Sunday. This, however, was a different Sunday, it was a day-after-your-first-date Sunday, and she had not said anything to him other than "Good Morning." Nothing about the date, nothing about the rose he sent her.
'Scorp, let me see that."
She drew his Charms toward her and whipped out her pen and some highlighters. With a sigh, he grabbed his Herbology and started to work.
He glanced at her, he couldn't help it. He could not focus.
"Here." She pushed the paper back toward him with a soft smile.
There, on the corner of the paper, she had drawn a rose. Some petals were pink, some were purple, and when he looked into her eyes, he knew exactly what she meant.