A/N: Greetings! I know, I know, I should stop with the drabble collections. but this one is the last for a while. And the good thing about this one? I only have one week to write 50 drabbles between 100 and 300 words! I've split the 50 into 10 groups, and assigned each group of 5 a pairing.
I've decided to use only canon/fanon het pairings for this, as a break from my Slash/Femslash drabble collection.
So without further ado, for Cheeky Slytherin Lass' Drabble-athon Challeng, here is chapter one.
1. in the shadows
At first, she thinks she should avoid him because Daddy says so.
But then she thinks she should avoid him because his eyes are too grey and his smile is too perfect and he makes her feel like she could kiss the clouds if she wanted to. And she doesn't understand it, but sometimes she thinks that they were meant to be.
But she's too shy to talk to him and too scared to smile his way and so she hides in the shadows and she doesn't speak up in class and she blends into the walls, all the while watching Scorpius and feeling (almost) sorry for beating him in every test.
2. not enough
When she is fifteen, Rose wonders whether he could love her. He's Malfoy. He's smart and he's gorgeous, but he's funny, too, and he could be so very sweet if he tried.
But what is she? She's Rosie, Rose with the wild red hair and the smattering of freckles that taint her skin and the buck-teeth and the nose that is never out of a book, and why would he ever look at her?
They're complete opposites, like water and air. He's flying high and shaking leaves free of their branches, and she's lapping the shore languidly with a crash and a sigh.
He's Malfoy and he's perfect, and she's just stupid, ugly Rose.
He's the only one she will open up to.
He realises that soon. After they become sort-of-friends, he finds that she talks more when they're alone, that she tells him things, that she's not as shy or quiet when his eyes are the only ones on her. She might be timid little Rosie, but she's got a sharp tongue and a beautiful smile, and it makes Scorpius' heart jump to bring both of these things out in her.
He's the only key that will unlock her.
So he uses it to his advantage. Naturally.
He asks her questions and he listens carefully and he smiles as her cheeks flush and her eyes shine, and he thinks that she looks kind of pretty when she's excited.
"Do you like me?" he asks.
And that's that.
It's James who kicks off first.
When he hears that Lily found Rose in a broom cupboard with Scorpius at the Potter's over Christmas, James Apparates home from work early and storms into Al's room like a furious hurricane. Before Al can stop him, James has Scorpius against the wall by the throat, their faces inches apart.
"What," he snarls, "were you doing with my little cousin?"
"W-well, it's better than y-your sister, right?" Scorpius offers with a weak laugh.
"Wrong answer," Al mutters.
Scorpius floos home early that Christmas, with two black eyes and the imprint of James' foot still bruised onto his arse.
The thing with them, though, is that they never could work.
Scorpius is too wild, too loud and unpredictable. Rose is too quiet, too bookish and boring.
They'd never admit that, but they don't need to when it all crumbles and they're left holding each others' hands and trying desperately to feel like they're sixteen again.
"I love you," he says, because he does, doesn't he?
"I love you," she whispers, because how could she not?
They kiss, and the spark, the fire, the rush; it's all gone.
(But, sometimes, pretending something's not broken is the only way to fix it.)