Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
Scorpius knows that Rose Weasley by any other name simply wouldn't be Rose. She is just like a rose, in fact – as beautiful and ever changing as fire, a wonderful symphony of red and gold and confidence.
He looks at her when he knows she won't see him; whenever she threatens to catch his eye, he hides his face behind a book and pretends that he hasn't looked at all. She is as beautiful as a rose, and just like people always love roses, everyone loves Rose. They all love her and say she's beautiful and then break her heart, and Scorpius can do nothing more than bring himself to sit and watch as Rose's petals fall to the ground and wither. He does not have the bravery of a Gryffindor; he never has and never will.
Scorpius knows that Rose Weasley by any other name simply wouldn't be Rose. He also knows that roses have thorns, and if he tries to pick her for himself, all he'll end up with is a bleeding heart.