Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Let's get one thing straight: I do not like strawberries.
There's really no particular reason. They're just an ugly shade of red and they have a weird shape and their seeds are on the outside (what the heck?) and they don't even taste good on top of it!
Well, that's just my opinion, but I'm sure you can easily gather that I don't like strawberries, right?
So, if you were a normal, considerate, decent human being, you wouldn't, under any circumstances, ever call me 'Strawberry' as a nickname, right?
(No matter what shade of red my stupid hair is!)
Naturally, that's exactly what Scorpius bloody Malfoy likes to call me.
And, hands down, the easiest way to ruin my night is to have Scorpius Malfoy come sauntering into the room where I am and say, "Hey, Strawberry," as if he doesn't know how much I hate them.
Which he does, for the record. Becase I've told him over and over and over. Somehow, it never seems to sink through his thick skull.
Slytherins. They're so damn stubborn (and, yes, that is the pot calling the kettle black).
Anyway, back to the story. See, there I was, happily baking gingerbread cookies in my kitchen for Christmas Eve. It's a tradition in my family that everyone contributes one thing to our Christmas Eve dinner—James makes fruit punch, Albus creates origami napkins, Daddy bakes a pie, and Mum cooks us our actual dinner. And I bake gingerbread cookies.
Well, this Christmas, Scorpius was staying over at our house, because Al had to be stupid and go defying stereotypes and make friends with him. I mean, really, who does that? I don't care that he's a Malfoy, but the guy is annoying.
Okay, maybe that's just me. Mum adores him, at any rate.
So, everyone was off doing their own things, preparing for dinner, and I had claimed the kitchen for a little while to bake my cookies. And who should amble in as if he owns the place, but Scorpius Malfoy!
On a side note, you can probably tell that strawberries aren't the only thing I don't like. Although, I'm sure Scorpius tastes better than them.
Ahem. Anyway, he grinned at me and said, "Hey, Strawberry," just like I told you.
Now, I was going to try and ignore him. I really was. But calling me 'Strawberry' just makes me really mad. Actually, Scorpius in general just makes me really mad.
"Get out, Malfoy, I'm busy," I snapped. If you ask me, I was plenty polite. I could have used curse words. Despite what Daddy likes to think, I do happen to know quite a lot. But it was Christmas Eve, so I tried to be a little bit lenient.
"I can see that," Scorpius said with this infuriating smirk on his face.
(All right, it was kinda cute, but don't tell him I said that, okay? He has a big enough ego as it is.)
"What're you baking?" he continued, leaning against the kitchen counter. Doesn't the boy ever just stand? No, it's always saunter or mosey or lean. Sheesh. I'm beginning to think he has a condition of some sort.
"Gingerbread cookies," I huffed, shaping another cookie with my hands. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"I just want to talk to my favorite redhead," he said, flashing me a smile that I suppose was meant to be charming. He was just ridiculous, sometimes. All the time, actually.
"Out!" I snapped, running out of patience. Not that I have much to begin with, having the triple threat of Potter, Weasley, and Gryffindor tempers.
Scorpius grabbed an empty glass and winked at me. "Your wish, my command," he told me, opening the fridge. "Just let me soothe my poor, overworked throat, will you?"
I watched him with narrowed eyes, tapping my foot impatiently. Maybe it was a little rude, but considering I'd already gotten into wand fights with the guy, I really didn't think this mattered much.
Of course, then he had to go and wreck everything by slipping on something—thin air, maybe, or magical elves, whatever—and sending the glass crashing to the floor.
"Merlin's beard," I sighed, drawing my wand and aiming it at him. "You're hopeless."
He grinned sheepishly at me, but the effect was ruined when he pointed out, "You're only sixteen, Strawberry. You shouldn't be using magic."
I glowered at him. "Stop calling me that! Do you want this cleaned up or not?"
"I can do it," he insisted, struggling to his feet and pulling out his own wand. With two swishes and a flick, the glass was repaired. I rolled my eyes and pocketed my own wand.
"I don't suppose you have anything that can help this?" he asked, drawing my attention back to him when I tried to refocus on my cookies. He had his hand extended, and there was a large gash cut through the middle of it, from his little finger to his thumb, dark red blood filling the wound and trickling over onto his hand.
I sucked in a breath at the sight; I'd never liked looking at blood. "Oh, goodness. I…I don't know any spells for that," I admitted, too grossed out by the sight for my usual vitriol.
"Get gauze and apply pressure," he instructed, wincing. "Where do you keep bandages?"
I looked around the kitchen in alarm. If I remembered my dad's safety lectures correctly, the gauze would be in the second-to-last cabinet on the right side…
"Here we go!" I said in triumph, opening the cabinet and finding a roll of gauze right in the middle. Quickly, I ripped some out and wrapped it around his palm.
Scorpius was strangely silent as I did this. I'd have expected him to be shooting sarcastic comments left and right, but all I could hear was the soft, steady sound of his breathing. He must have really been in pain to be completely speechless. I shifted as I worked, uncomfortable under his intense gaze. He didn't look anywhere else, either, not even at his hand. He only kept staring at the back of my head, bowed over his hand, in quiet contemplation.
The feelings that provoked were a bit too overwhelming, so I finished as fast as I could and looked up at him. This proved to be a mistake; his eyes were a butterfly-inducing shade of gray, and he was staring straight at me as if I was an angel or something.
"Now what?" I asked, surprised to find myself a little breathless from his gaze and proximity.
"Apply pressure," he murmured, moving his hand over mine and resting them both on the bandage. Gently, he pressed down with both our hands. "And hope it stops bleeding."
I giggled a little nervously, which was strange, because I was not a giggly kind of girl. "It doesn't hurt, does it?" I asked worriedly.
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He let go of my hand and I almost stepped back.
Almost, because, you see, somehow, our bodies had gotten a whole lot closer while I worked. And so had our faces. And so had his mouth and it was suddenly hovering right above my lips and my head seemed to be tilting of its own accord and…well…I guess we kind of kissed.
Okay, 'kind of kissed' is too mild a term. What we did was probably classified as 'making out' or, in James's book, 'I'm going to kill him painfully and slowly as opposed to just painfully'.
He was rather good at it, too. Well, I suppose he would be, since he'd been snogging Rosie for most of his Hogwarts years, and she's no slouch at this dating game. He tasted like cherry soda, which I knew was his favorite because he liked to steal my soda from me, just for kicks, and he only ever stole that kind.
When we finally broke apart for air, he lifted his good hand and tucked a strand of my hair that had gotten loose from my ponytail behind my ear. There was a cheeky smile on his face, which meant he was up to something, but it looked cuter on him now than it usually did.
"You do realize I could have just used Episkey, right?" he asked me, a grin on his face as he wrapped his arm around my waist to keep me from pulling away.
"…" There really was no answer I could have given without blushing.
So, I kissed him again. I still don't like strawberries, but I suppose you could say that I do like Scorpius Malfoy now.
Author's Notes: These two are just too adorable! This is dedicated to my friend Kat, who gave me the prompts 'glass' and 'gingerbread' to use! Hope you like it, Kat! And if you liked it as well, please review! I'd really like to know what you think! Thanks!