I. F i r e
Since day one, he has always seen in her inquistive blue eyes a fire- burning stronger than any other he'd ever dare to behold, despite their surprising ocean-like calmness. Her hair, not quite red, but not exactly chocolate enough to be brown, either, that fell freely down her shoulders in simple way.
It wasn't exactly beautiful, but there was something breathaking about it. He simply adored the way she strod up to the front of the room, her chin held up high, with that strange, orphic air that told you right off the bat that she was not ordinary. No, Rose Weasley was ordinary at all.
She was extraordinary.
II. E x q u i s i t e
If you were to ask her what precisely she found so fascinating about him, she couldn't quite tell you what it was. Perhaps it was the fact that his gray eyes were piercing, but playful all the same. Or the exquisite way his fair features were pointed.
If she really had to give you an answer, most likely it would be that he was simply himself. He was Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.
He was different.
III. M u t e
He remembers the first few years very clearly. How she owned the school without even knowing it. How she graced the hallways with her enchanted smile, and how she demanded attention without effort, simply because of whom she was. Whom her parents were. It was about more than halfway into the second semester that he realized he had never actually spoken to her. He had always watched from afar as she giggled almost uncontrollably with the people she associated herself with.
Though he couldn't hear them, he could see them, and she would clearly laugh, her head jerking back and her cheeks turning an awfully crimson color. Her eyes would always become rather "squinty", he'd noted to himself. And when she had laughed herself dry, she would simply look down at her feet and grin, her eyes closed, shaking her head whilst her friends rambled on about whatever they were speaking about.
The Potters, of course, were the monarchs of the school. And being Rose Weasley, they came as a package, a set. You could not have one without the other. So of course, whenever James was swooned over, and whenever the girls cooed at Albus, or when Lily was practically stalked by her so many suitors, you could bet that Rose was, too.
It was around the beginning of their third year that he decided he would put a stop to this "tomfoolery", as he'd said to his close friend, Lysander Scamander. He would finally break through the invisible wall that separated himself and the wondrous Weasley. He would wittle away her muteness.
He was determined to speak to Rose.
IIII. E t e r n i t y
She was surprised when she first heard his voice- though in a rather pleasant way. It was calm and smooth, the words tumbled out of his mouth with ease. Not at all how she'd imagined his voice sounding- rough and edgy.
So this is the legendary Malfoy, she thought, internally grinning at her own excitement.
Oh, yes indeed. This was Scorpius Malfoy. The one whom had been in nearly all of her classes for the past two semesters. The one whose father had been a deatheater. The one whom her own father had warned her about at King's Cross. That moment seemed like it had been so long ago, and she scolded herself. She was only thirteen. It wasn't as though she were some wise old woman. But the words were an echo of repeat in her mind, getting her rusty memory gears turning once more.
Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie.
And the funniest part? The first thing Scorpius had said to her had been so simple, after nearly an eternity of waiting:
What Rose Weasley hadn't known was that this one simple word opened up a gateway of opportunity. And both of them reached out their arms as far as humanly possible, grasping for the divine future that was just ahead of them.
IIIII. D i v i n e
Looking back, they both decided that his choice to speak to her had in fact been a godsend, all those years ago. What else could they possibly conclude as they gazed lovingly at the child before them? His eyes, with the same radiant blue fire as her own. His hair, a sweet auburn color, with all the same shiny-ness as his father's, but with the same curly volume as his mother's. His skin tone was a light peachy color, with freckles splattered about his rosy cheeks. He had her smile for sure, but with all the smugness of his father.
Rose Malfoy knealt down to his eye level, pushing back her son's beautiful hair and looking directly into eyes that she could have sworn were her own, giving him a motherly kiss on his forehead. He was leaving for Hogwarts now, just as they had done.
She was feeling nostalgic now, though she didn't have the urge to cry like most mothers did. This was a positive thing, and to cry would be irrational. Beside her, her husband stood, clutching on to their younger daughter's pale, fragile hand. The girl was so small and beautiful, with her wavy, platinum-blonde hair pulled back with a simple hair tie, her gray eyes sparkling with curiousity. She was a quiet one, just as Rose had been, but with all the stubborness of her grandfather Ron, and with all the smug sarcasm as her father Scorpius.
Both parents marveled at how lucky they had been to have had these two astounding children. They were indeed, half-Malfoy, half Weasley, and they were perfect. With this spectacular life, Rose and Scorpius were blessed. And though they'd had their ups and downs, they wouldn't rather have it any other way.