Disclaimer: I don't own anybody.
Dedicated without hesitation to Claire (Scarlet Sparkle) because she's a huge fan of CrossGen and I wrote this for her and she talked me into publishing it somehow.
At the very least, Scorpius had refrained from dating Harry Potter's daughter.
Or, Merlin forbid, Harry Potter's son.
Draco shudders at the thought and then offers Rose Weasley a polite, strained smile. She is, thankfully, pretty—clearly, Weasley and Granger had refrained from passing on their less desirable physical traits to her. Scorpius certainly seems to like looking at her, at any rate.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Rose says politely, extending her hand.
Draco draws in a sharp breath, pointedly ignoring Scorpius's look, and takes her hand.
"Hello, Miss Weasley," he returns easily. "Scorpius, do you want to show her around the house?"
"Right," Scorpius says hastily, grabbing Rose's hand. "C'mon, I'll show you my room first."
He drags Rose out of the foyer, but she looks back at Draco anyway, much to his surprise, and flashes him a smile.
Draco blinks, bewildered, standing very still as he contemplates the meaning of that smile.
Then, he decides she has a very attractive smile and goes to make himself a sandwich to get his mind off of his son's sinfully pretty new girlfriend.
"Mr. Malfoy, is Scorpius home?" Rose asks him sweetly, having just tumbled out of the fireplace into his living room.
Draco carefully folds the Daily Propet he had been reading, going deliberately slow so as to prolong the conversation (why? He wasn't quite sure, himself, to be honest).
"Scorpius, Miss Weasley, is running an errand for me in Diagon Alley, but he'll be back soon enough."
"Oh," she says, a little awkwardly, and clasps her hands in front of her, rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet.
She looks absolutely adorable, he thinks for one hazy minute before catching himself and shaking his head to clear it of those horrifying thoughts.
"Why don't you have a seat?" he asks instead after his inner Astoria has given him a verbal beatdown for his lack of manners. "Would you like some snacks?"
"No, thank you, I already ate," Rose says brightly and sits down on the armchair opposite him, gathering her (way too short) dress under her as she does so.
There's an awkward silence hovering in the air between them, and Draco takes the time to sneak a glance at her. She really is quite pretty, with her bouncy auburn curls up in a ponytail and her blue eyes bright as she curiously takes in the decorations scattered around the room. She's wearing a sundress the same shade as her eyes, and she—
What the hell are you thinking? screams the voice in his head that sounds similar to his father's reprimand. Not only is she a Weasley, she's way too young and she's dating your son!
Not to mention, your wife died barely two years ago. Get a hold of yourself.
"Mr. Malfoy?" Rose asks quietly, leaning forward and allowing him a tantalizing glimpse down her dress. "May I ask you a question?"
Draco swallows and looks away. "Didn't you just?"
Rose smiles, wickedly sweet. "You sound like Scorpius," she giggles. "Now I know where he gets it from."
She pauses. "Um, about that question—"
He sighs. "Yes, yes, ask away."
"What happened to Scorpius's mother?"
Draco stares at her, a sudden rush of grief washing over him the way her words did. "I…she—"
Rose, evidently realizing her mistake, quickly backpedals. "I'm sorry if that's too personal," she squeaks out. "Scorpius was always so silent when she was brought up. I guess I was just curious." She laughs, a little nervously. "It's a Ravenclaw thing."
"Yes, well," Draco sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "She died, two years ago, of some rare disease she picked up in Spain when she went to visit her sister."
"Oh," Rose says in a small voice. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't," Draco mutters, wishing he could find it in himself to be annoyed with his son's too-pretty girlfriend. "Don't worry about it."
Rose stays quiet for the space of a heartbeat. "You know, maybe I'll just come back another time."
"No," Draco says quickly, the word escaping him without the consent of his brain. "Stay. Scorpius…Scorpius should be here any minute now."
Hesitatnly, she settles back into the chair. "So, um, do you know anything about the thirteen uses of dragon's blood?"
Unbidden, a smile springs to his face before he catches himself and schools his expression into one of nonchalance. "Quite a lot, actually," he says, and she smiles like he's lit up her whole world.
He walks in on her and Scorpius only once, which is a rather remarkable feat, if you ask him.
"Dad!" Scorpius gasps when the door to his bedroom swings open. "What are you doing here?"
Draco raises an eyebrow. "I came to call you two down for lunch. Perhaps we should delay another hour?"
Rose, the flush on her cheeks reminiscent of Astoria's face whenever he used to compliment her, quickly untangles herself from his son. "Um, no, no, we can eat."
"We can?" Scorpius groans, tightening his grip around her waist. "Rose…"
"Shh," Rose hisses at him, combing her messy hair hastily with her fingers. "Get up and start moving."
Scorpius makes a face at her but does what she says, and Draco finds himself wondering just what the two see in each other. They couldn't be less alike.
"Right, then," he says finally. "I'll be downstairs."
Rose breathes in deeply. "Yes. Erm. We'll be right there."
Draco nods and leaves, not failing to sense the intensity of Rose's gaze following him as he walks.
"I think," Rose begins slowly, buttering her toast one afternoon during a date interrupted by Albus's Floo call, "he rather prefers Potters to Weasleys."
Draco snorts. "Not to worry. I'm fairly certain he's not gay, if the way he looks at you is any indication."
Rose blushes prettily. "No, no, I'm not worried about Al, really. It's Lily I think I ought to be jealous of. Have you seen him around her?"
"No," Draco drawls, taking a sip of his ice water. "Should I have?"
"Well, I suppose not," she admits, biting into her toast. "He looks at her like she's a princess or something."
"He looks at you like you're a queen," he points out reasonably, shoving away a pang of jealousy with irritation.
"Yes, but how many fairytales have you read where the queen gets the prince instead of the princess?" Rose sighs.
Without thinking about it, Draco leans over and wipes off the butter smeared on her cheek. "Well, that's because the queen deserves a king, not a prince."
Her breath comes in rapid gasps as she stares at him with wide blue eyes. "Oh," she whispers, her lips tantalizingly close. Her skin is burning hot under his fingers, and he finds himself tracing the lines of her cheeks, her jaw, her cherry-glossed lips…
Scorpius reenters, and Draco jumps away from her. Rose waits a hearbeat, her gaze still following his every move as he stands with jerky motions, before turning and smiling cheerfully at her boyfriend.
Merlin, she's a good actress.
So, it all comes to head two weeks before school starts, and perhaps he should have expected it.
Rose is standing in the center of the lake in their backyard, soaked to her waist, giggling as Scorpius splashes her with the clear blue waters, when Draco comes outside. He stands there and watches for a while, trying not to wish it was him in place of his son—because, really, how messed up is that? He's a horrible person, really.
But then Rose throws back her head, her red curls spinning around her pretty face like a blazing halo of fire, and he feels his tight control over his feelings slip, just a little.
"Scorpius!" he calls, acting without thinking in a manner that would make Godric Gryffindor himself proud. "I need some more of that headache curing potion. Do you think you could drop by Diagon Alley and pick it up for me?"
"Of course, Dad," says Scorpius instantly, making Draco feel even worse for falling for his girlfriend. "Right now?"
"If you wouldn't mind," Draco nods, carefully not glancing at Rose, though he can sense her standing perfectly still in the lake.
"All right," Scorpius says amiably, leaning towards Rose so he can kiss her goodbye. "I'll be back soon, okay, Rosie?"
Rose beams and hauls him back for a longer kiss, and a quiver of jealousy shakes Draco's spine. "Bye, Scorp!" she calls sweetly, waving as he dries himself off with his wand and then Apparates away.
Draco slowly, deliberataly wheels around to meet her gaze, having regained the majority of his composure. "Hello, Rose," he says pleasantly, hoping against hope that she won't do anything to make his morals crash to the ground like they want to do whenever she's around.
"Hello," she greets, seeming suddenly very aware of the way her soaked and wonderfully transparant sundress is clinging to her curves and leaving very little to his imagination. "Erm, I—"
He allows himself one glance downwards. "You seem to be spending a lot of time at my house," he notes. "Is there something wrong with your house?"
Rose shifts from feet to feet, and this only makes her body even more distracting. "You're just, uh, a lot easier to deal with than my parents."
"Am I?" he asks, amused.
She nods, turning the full force of her blue eyes on him. "You are."
Her voice is sweet and soft, like moonlight on pearls, and that's it, his morals come crashing down.
"Oh, goodness," Rose gasps against his mouth as he sweeps down and kisses her without any regard to societal restrictions, to his son's claim on her, to her family, to her age, to anything.
And, Merlin, it feels amazing.
"We can't do this," Rose whispers wildly after a moment of passionate kissing. "We can't, you're my boyfriend's father, my father would kill me, this is wrongwrongwrong!"
"I'm good at keeping secrets," Draco murmurs hoarsely, trailing his hands over her curves through the damp, thin material of her sundress. "Are you?"
Rose titters a nervous laugh. "Y-yes," she breathes. "But we—"
He kisses her again, now sure of her feelings, and she responds much faster this time.
When they pull apart, she finally flashes him that dazzling smile she's kept in reserve for Scorpius. "We can keep a secret."
Draco chuckles, low in his throat. "Yes," he whispers. "Otherwise, your father may just murder me."
She laughs. "Of course, my king," she teases, bopping him a curtsy before yanking him down into another kiss.
And he really thinks there's nobody he'd rather have as his queen.
Author's Notes: Gosh, posting this makes me horribly nervous. I am not a fan of CrossGen and I have no idea if I can write them well or not (although Claire assures me I do, for which I thank you), and hopefully all of you agree. If you liked this (or even if you didn't) please do review and tell me what you thought! I would dearly love to know! Thank you!