Hello All! I felt that i needed to contribute something Scorose-themed to the abundance of Christmas fluffiness that is out there because that is all this is - Scorose Christmas Fluffiness. I've taken a different approach to each of their characters than usual here - I decided to test out a very insecure Scorpius and a reasonably timid Rose. Its also perhaps the biggest cliche of a story I have ever written. Hope you like it regardless.

I wrote this in about three hours in the wee hours of the morning too so please excuse all grammatical errors - i tried to proof read but have undoubtedly missed something, or a great many somethings. Yes the ending is rushed, i may re-write it later.

Merry Christmas to all - I hope you all enjoyed yourselves within reason, and have been safe and well over the holidays.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, but the situations are all my own

All I want for Christmas is you...to review :)


Scorpius Malfoy was going insane. And it was entirely Rose Weasley's fault.

He had been perfectly normal this morning – well as normal as anyone that was the offspring of a Greengrass and a Malfoy could be – but come 6:15 that evening, he found himself slowly losing his marbles. And it was all because of her and her silly little Christmas card.

Never in his life would he have predicted that his eventual mental breakdown (he was always pretty certain he'd encounter one eventually, why not at the ripe young age of 25?) would come about thanks to a Christmas card as non-offensive as the one he held in his hand. It wasn't like the ones he got from his Aunt Daphne and Uncle Thaddeus that were always as loud as a Howler and sang some off key version of a 300-year-old Christmas carol whilst spurting confetti and sparkles within a 5-foot radius. Nor was it like the gothic ones he received from Grandma and Grandpa Malfoy that looked more like funeral invitations than Christmas cards. It wasn't even like the not so subtle ones he received from Albus, his best friend who was convinced Scorpius would die old and alone in a dark corner of a library someday. Albus took every opportunity to send Scorpius a card that would somehow cause him much trouble and strife, often with females. Albus' favorite holiday was undoubtedly Valentine's Day, when earlier this year he had taken great delight in sending Scorpius a card that sprayed him with an unknown substance as soon as he opened it. Scorpius soon discovered it to be a reasonably potent love potion when he was suddenly kissed by not one, but three different women on his way to work, all begging him to come home with them. He had spent the remainder of the day locked in his house, the robes he had been wearing destroyed as he showered six times to ensure he was clear of the rotten substance.

Albus' second favorite opportunity to screw with his (non-existent) love life was most certainly Christmas. He often sent cards that would spontaneously sprout mistletoe above Scorpius' head and follow him round for several days unless he kissed someone. He knew, regrettably from previous experience, that after the third day of being followed around by mistletoe he and anyone of the female species that wasn't a relative would be trapped under it and forced to stay exactly where they were until they had locked lips. It was more than a little awkward last year when he'd been trapped in the hallway of his apartment building with his 65-year-old landlady. Although, on the plus side, he was sure his rent had been cheaper ever since the encounter.

But the card he currently held wasn't like that at all.

In fact it wasn't even a magical card. It was a quaint little muggle card that had a picture of a man in strange red robes that looked like a fat version of Albus Dumbledore, standing with some odd looking house elves that were wearing peculiar green uniforms (yet still under the man's control by the look of it? It made no sense whatsoever).

Inside was an inscription that simply read:

Dear Scorpius,

Wishing you a most wonderful holiday season full of large amounts of eggnog, low amounts of hangovers, and just the right amount of presents. I hope to see more of you in the New Year, if we both manage to survive Christmas with our respective families that is.

Sincerely Yours,

Rosie xo

That was it. Upon initial inspection he hadn't thought much of it. Just a nice gesture of almost-friendship from Rose Weasley, his best mate's cousin. That was it.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Just a sweet little note.

Just a little something from a friend of a friend.

A friend of a friend he had been spending quite a bit of time with over the past few weeks.

Well, if he was being perfectly honest, the past few months.

But it wasn't anything serious; just lunch here and there.

It maybe happened once or twice. Every week.

But they were just friends. So there was absolutely no reason for him to read anything into it and get ahead of himself. Because Rose didn't think of him like that. The fact that he may have 'held a candle' for her for the past year or so had absolutely nothing to do with it. The fact that Albus would say Scorpius not so much 'held a candle' but 'fuelled an inferno' for her was of absolutely no consequence because Albus Potter was a dunce who didn't know a thing above Scorpius' feelings or love in general.

Not that he loved Rose.

He wasn't saying that.

Because that would be ridiculous.

Because they were friends.

And friends didn't love each other.

Not like Albus thought Scorpius loved Rose.

So he didn't love Rose. Because to love Rose would be to go against all the rules of friendship and feelings and…and…and he just didn't. And he knew Rose didn't feel that way – a girl like Rose Wealsey, beautiful Rose Weasley who worked in a library and wore thick-framed glasses that magnified her blue eyes to such an extent that they could be classed as being a threat to the sanity of the male population, and was always lovely and kind to everyone would never feel that way about him, lonely Scorpius Malfoy who had no social life partially because of his crazy hours working as a Healer, partially because he was as socially adept as a toad with laryngitis, not to mention the whole issue with his family tree. No, no, no – she may not have said so explicitly, but she didn't have to. Rose Weasley, if she were as smart and sane as everyone seemed to think, would never love him and that was final.

At least that's what he thought.

Until he read that blasted card.

Upon his initial inspection he had thought nothing of it. On the contrary, when the large tawny owl delivered it to his considerably un-festive apartment at precisely 6pm Christmas Eve he had read it once, smiled (or possibly even beamed), then fed the owl a treat and placed the small colorful card on his mantle as he went to fix himself a soothing night cap.

As he drank his nightcap of well-aged Firewhiskey, Scorpius thought about how nice it was of sweet Rose Weasley to take the effort to send him a card, especially since she had told him last time they had spoken that Christmas was always crazy given all her relatives. It was then that the first teeny, tiny, slightly concerning thought crossed his mind – it really might have been an effort to send the card. So she really went out of her way to send it. Which means that she felt it important to send a card to me.

But that wasn't really that concerning. And she hadn't made that much of an effort; just a simple card with a simple passage. That was only slightly personalized (he hadn't a clue what the hell eggnog was – he would have to ask Albus).

It wasn't anything special. So he would just take his mind off it by thinking about something else.

That plan worked. For about 3.47 seconds. Then he went back to thinking about the card. He tried to recall it word for word, and then the brilliant idea hit him that he could just re-read it – it would be much simpler after all. So Scorpius had refilled his nightcap of Firewhiskey, sat upon his couch, and read the card again.

He read it once.

He read it twice.

He read it three times.

Then a few times more.

In fact over the course of an innumerable amount of hours, Scorpius read that one little letter a grand total of two hundred and sixty-three times. And every time he assessed the words upon the dainty little card, he grew more and more worried.

There were several worrying elements to the piece of prose.

It wasn't the greeting that had bothered him. Not at first, anyway. Fair enough, there wasn't many people who referred to him by his given name, most instead opted for Malfoy, or Scorp, or Wonder Boy (that was only Albus and the very small group of people Scorpius could actually call his friends. It had been bestowed upon him when he not only aced his OWLs, but also managed to win the House Cup as seeker for Ravenclaw when he was just a fifth year), but being referred to as Scorpius wasn't all that strange. It may not have been exactly normal, but given the amount of people Scorpius conversed with socially on a regular basis, nothing was really normal as it didn't occur frequently enough to be considered so.

But there was something about it. Scorpius sounded much more proper, so formal, so….intimate. Surely if she was writing to him as a friend than she would have called him Scorp. But maybe she didn't mean it as a friend. Maybe she meant it as something more than a friend – and therefore calling him Scorp seemed too brotherly and thus not appropriate. Or maybe she meant it as something less than a friend – maybe she didn't consider herself close enough to him to be using nicknames; like she was walking leisurely into his life without being invited. Maybe that was it? That was more likely. After all, Rose Weasley surely couldn't think of him as more.

The middle passage was slightly more concerning than the greeting. The first sentence was the obligatory 'Merry Christmas' line that was customary for such announcements. One couldn't send a Christmas card without making a reference to Christmas now could they? So that was nothing to be concerned over.

The next sentence, however, was.

I hope to see more of you in the New Year.

What the eff did 'see more of him' mean?

Did that mean she hoped to catch up with him more frequently for the simple reason that she had grown tired of eating by herself and he offered a welcomed reprieve? Was he pleasant lunch company, but very little more? Or was she using him to get out of having to eat and converse with one of her co-workers that not-so-secretly harbored feelings for her, and his (or her) desperation for Rose was getting far too much to handle so she needed Scorpius to accompany her to more lunches so she would have a reason to say no to the other person and maybe, just maybe, they would get the entirely wrong idea that Scorpius and Rose were dating and therefore they would back off and get over her. Maybe that was it…

Or was it something more…

Provocative?

Scorpius decided he needed another shot of Firewhiskey to help deal with the thought processes that were about to take place.

Did she mean that she literally wanted to see more of him – as in, more of his body, as in see him in notably less clothing than usual? Maybe that was a line? Maybe Rose Weasley – beautiful Rose Weasley who smelt of books and honey – was actually using this card as an elaborate pick-up line because she had long been harboring feelings for him secretly and wanted to rip his clothes off amongst the darkened shelves of the restricted section of the Ministry Library, long after everyone else had gone home except the security personnel. Maybe this was her way of telling him that she fantasized about him and that her new years resolution was to make them all come true…?

Scorpius threw back another shot so the burn would bring him back to the present and away from dark library corners in the recesses of his mind. Ok, he needed to have fewer thoughts of Rose Weasley ripping his clothes off in a library, because once he made that connection, there was no coming back. At least not until after he had a long cold shower.

So the 'hope you see more of you' line was confusing, especially given the fact that she had added a bit of an in-joke at the end of it about having to survive their mad families (a topic which they frequently discussed over lunch). Was this meant to diffuse the situation so the little card wasn't packed with such unbridled sexual tension? Or was she just being nice and cracking a funny?

Scorpius mulled over this sentence for a solid twenty minutes before moving on for fear of his mind wandering too far into darkened library shelves for him to ever return.

This led him to perhaps the most worrying and all together confusing part of the letter.

Sincerely Yours.

Sincerely.

Yours.

Had it been 'Yours sincerely' it would have been nothing of any importance and would have simply been Rose being articulate instead of signing off with a boring 'From'.

But it wasn't 'Yours sincerely'. It was 'Sincerely Yours'.

And that changed everything.

Sincerely Yours sounded like she was giving herself to him – like she was handing over her heart because she wanted them to be together. In fact the more Scorpius read it, the more it seemed like an act of devotion, like she was crying out for him to take notice of her because she loved him and they were meant for each other and lets just forget all this tip-toeing around and just hurry up and kiss already?!

Aaaaaand cue the next head spin. He really should not have had that second shot of Firewhiskey.

And he definitely shouldn't have had the next one that followed that.

Another shot was surely the way to solve the problem (his head-spins were occurring because he had had an uneven number of shots, he was sure).

After filling his shot glass – and watering the table ever so slightly – Scorpius continued to scrutinize the letter.

Sincerely yours. Sincerely yours?

Friends didn't tell each other they were each other's, sincerely or otherwise. If she were trying to be his friend that's exactly what she would have said – Your friend, Rose. Yes, that would have been more logical. But Sincerely Yours? That was not a friendly sign off. That was…that was…

HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL THAT WAS!

Ok, ok, keep calm. Deep calming breaths. No reason to panic. He was just getting too caught up in all of this. He just needed to take a step back, distance himself from it. Think about it in the simplest possible way. Break it down. Ok, so the 'Sincerely Yours' bit was indecipherable (in fact he had read it so many times, Scorpius was actually struggling to remember if it was even English) but maybe he could move onto the next bit.

Rosie.

No one was ever allowed to call her Rosie.

Xo.

X. O?

Commonly known as a kiss and hug.

Rose Weasley had kissed him and hugged him. In letter-form.

If he was marginally confused beforehand, he was now well and truly bamboozled.

Without wasting another second, Scorpius threw on the closest warm article of clothing he could find (it was something that looked red-ish that he's thrown behind the back of his couch for reasons he couldn't currently remember) and went to find the one person that could tell him what the hell he was to make of that.

He went to visit Rose Weasley.


When Rose opened her door at approximately 3:38am Christmas morning, she would never have suspected there, waiting on her doorstep, was a very tired, slightly deranged looking Scorpius Malfoy. His usually perfectly coiffed golden hair stood out at odd angles like he had been dragging his fingers through it furiously, and he was wearing possibly the ugliest knitted Christmas jumper she had ever seen. The abomination in question was a red, white and green candy-cane striped knitted monstrosity with a picture of what she assumed was supposed to be Rudolph the reindeer, but the head was almost double the size of the body, the legs were bent at odd angles, and the red nose was almost the size of the entire head. It was truly horrible. Given the fairly atrocious jumpers Grandma Weasley had given them each Christmas, saying the one Scorpius was wearing was truly the worst was a big call.

Rose was so momentarily stunned by the aesthetic slaughter adorning his torso that she missed the first few words he spoke. Although, in her defense, it couldn't really be classed as speech, more like disjointed noise.

"What?" she said, most impolitely but given he had decided to materialize on her doorstep at 3:38 in the morning – Christmas morning – she considered herself well within her rights to be less than accommodating.

"I said," he sounded quite out of breath, "What does this mean?"

It took her a moment to process – her brain didn't know how to work at 3:38 in the morning – just what he was talking about. Initially she thought he was referring to his atrocious jumper, which she honestly would not have been able to explain if her life depended on it, but after a moment of processing realized he was referring to the small rectangular object he held in his hand. More squinting (she didn't have her glasses) led to her finally being able to recognize it as the Christmas card she had sent him at the last minute yesterday. She had bought it two weeks ago and had been debating ever since whether to send it or not.

See, the two of them weren't strictly speaking friends, at least she didn't know if he considered her that way. She most certainly considered him a friend – quite a close friend now, given all the time they had spent together over the past few months – but one could never tell with Scorpius. Or more appropriately, Rose could never tell. All these years they'd known each other through Albus, all these months they'd spent having lunch together since randomly running into each other on their respective lunch breaks sometime in early October (October 3rd, but who was keeping count?), and still she couldn't read him. She could normally read a person just as well as her beloved books, but not Scorpius. He was mysterious and different and so wholly unlike anyone in her entire world, that she truly had no idea what he was thinking. It was equally intriguing as it was frustrating. Intriguing because he kept things interesting, frustrating because she never knew where she stood.

And now here he was, standing on her doorstep, demanding that she explain the silly little card she'd got him for Christmas.

She realized that she had sent him a muggle card. Maybe that was why he was so confused – he didn't understand the concept of a muggle card. Merlin she was stupid for even giving it to him in the first place. Rose rubbed her eyes sleepily and yawned before replying.

"It's a Christmas Card, Scorpius," she yawned again, "It means merry Christmas."

"Oh ho," she thought for a moment he was doing a poor Santa Claus impersonation before her ears properly connected to her brain and realized his words were heavily laced with sarcasm, "But this doesn't just say 'Merry Christmas'! No, no, no, it says much – MUCH – more than 'Merry Christmas'!"

The look in his eyes was almost maniacal. Rose would have been slightly scared had she not been as blind as a bat and therefore able to see it properly.

"Scorpius, I have no idea what –"

"For instance!" He threw open the card dramatically and pointed where she had scrawled his name across the top left corner, "Right here you refer to me as Scorpius – not Scorp, not Wonder Boy, not Malfoy Spawn, but Scorpius!"

"I always call you Scorpius," Rose raised a confused eyebrow at him as she proper herself up against the doorframe, "I've never called you anything other than Scorpius. So then wouldn't it be stranger if called you one of those other names?"

She rubbed her eyes before watching an array of expressions cross Scorpius' beautiful, if not slightly crazed features. He seemed to be processing her answer slowly and critically. By the way his face fell into a sort of stubborn embarrassment, she guessed he'd accept what she had just said.

"Is that al-?"

"Well ok!" he boomed throwing his arms around rampantly before bringing the card right up under his nose again, "But how – pre tell, how – do you explain this second sentence?!"

Rose opened her mouth to question what exactly the second sentence was, when Scorpius beat her to it.

"See here," his eyes widened as he held the card so impossibly close to her eyes that there was no way she could read it properly, "Here, here, here! You say – and I quote – 'I hope to see more of you in the future'!"

He looked at Rose expectedly, his eyes wide and eyebrows so high they almost disappeared to his more-chaotic-than-usual hairline. In fact, had it not been so early and had she not been so insanely tired from her last minute Christmas shopping yesterday, she would have laughed at his very comical expression. As it was, Rose simply rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Scorpius," her voice grew less inquisitive and more irritated, "I've already told you – I just meant to say Merry Christmas-"

"But you didn't!" he came as close to yelling as Rose had ever witnessed Scorpius Malfoy being, "If you had meant to just say Merry Christmas you would have just said 'Merry Christmas', but you didn't! You didn't say that at all!"

The last line of speech was practically shrieked as Scorpius looked at the card once more.

"You didn't say Merry Christmas, you said 'Dear Scorpius, Wishing you a most wonderful holiday season full of large amounts of eggnog, low amounts of hangovers, and just the right amount of presents. I hope to see more of you in the New Year, if we both manage to survive Christmas with our respective families that is," she watched his eyes grow wide as he said the last few lines very loudly, making Rose absentmindedly wonder whether her neighbors had awoken, "SINCERELY YOURS. ROSIE. X. O! That is what you said! You didn't simply say Merry Christmas, even though you could of, you didn't, which implies that though you say you only meant to say Merry Christmas, because that was exactly what you didn't say, you didn't mean to say it but something else! Because you never said –"

Until the end of her days, Rose will fight for 'Insanity Due to Sleep Deprivation' being classed as a liable excuse for uncharacteristic behavior. And she will use her following actions as a primary example.

"I KNOW WHAT I SAID SCORPIUS!" she shrieked as she stepped towards him in what was the most threatening manner that she had ever approached anyone that wasn't family – even the little twits that left books on the floor didn't warrant her 'Hugo and Albus' voice. Rose was fully expecting him to cower and beg for forgiveness and be on his way so she could return to her slumber palace (more commonly known as her bed).

Unfortunately she had misread Scorpius, just like always. For instead of retreating whilst furiously waving a white flag, Scorpius Malfoy – quiet, reserved, charming smile and an inexplicably-low-level-of self-esteem-for-someone-as-beautiful-as-him, Scorpius Malfoy – took an intimidating step forward too until their foreheads were all but touching.

"Then tell me what it means!" the desperate look in his eye would have broken her heart had she been able to see it properly without her glasses. His voice broke as he repeated his plea, only quieter, "Please, Rosie – please tell me what it means. I need to know what it means."

Rose sighed. She didn't want to have to deal with this – deal with him. She knew she shouldn't have sent that damn card. She had spent a solid three days trying to figure out what to say. She just wanted to let him know that she liked spending time with him, and liked him. Not like that. Because that would be silly. And pointless. Rose didn't have any confirmed reports that Scorpius had those sorts of feelings for anything or anyone, much less her. Seriously, a group of Rose's friends were of the firm belief that he was asexual – he thought of no one as either attractive nor unattractive, and was not drawn to anyone whatsoever. Which would mean that he wasn't drawn to Rose whatsoever. Which was fine. Well not fine, but it was ok…in the sense that there was nothing she could do to change it so she needn't worry about it. No matter how hard it was to disregard such information when he was so God damn perfect in every conceivable way. In fact his perfect-ness paired with his entire unread-able-ness (Merlin if her mother could hear her thoughts – that is not a word, Rose) had forced her into action instead of waiting for him to give her even the teeniest, tiniest indication that he was attracted to women, not even her specifically, at all. She had eventually worked up the courage to send him a Christmas card that would subtly allude to the fact that she wanted to spend more time with him.

A lot more time with him.

Outside of just the designated lunch-break meetings.

And perhaps with fewer people around.

And more candles.

And perhaps, just perhaps, with more physical interaction than just the occasional brush of the hand that left her flushed because of her damn Weasley genes.

But her attempt had obviously been too subtle, and had the unexpected result of a deranged mad man standing on her doorstep who was most unwelcome; no matter how gorgeous he looked with his hair standing up at odd angles.

Rose decided – seeing as it was Christmas at all – that she may as well tell the truth. She was a rotten liar anyway, and in her extremely tired state she would no doubt be worse than usual. Even if Scorpius had suddenly turned mad and was incapable of understanding her mildly suggestive Christmas card, he would still be able to see through her terrible fabrication of the truth, she was sure. Besides, she was too tired to drag this out any longer. May as well get the rejection over and done with so she could go back to bed.

Her beautiful, trustworthy, ever-accommodating bed that would always love her no matter what. In fact why did she even need Scorpius when she had such a beautiful slumber palace?

Because he would make time spent in said slumber palace infinitely more enjoyable.

Back in you place dirty conscience!

Rose took a deep breath and stayed exactly where she was – if he was going to shut her down he could do it right to her face. Besides, if she stepped backwards she may just topple over.

"It means Merry Christmas, Scorpius – honestly it does," his face fell slightly into one of confusion and panic before she continued, "And I wanted to say Merry Christmas because that's what you do when you care about someone – you wish them well and say 'let's catch up next year' in the hope that they'll want to see you again."

"So when you said you wanted –"

"Merlin Scorpius!" Rose exclaimed and attempted to drag her fingers through her hair, but they got stuck in the nest of knots she naively called 'hair' which resided atop her head, "I don't know what it means! I spent so many times writing and re-writing that damn letter that I am honestly amazed it's all in English! I guees I wanted to give you a reason to write to me over the break because I don't want to go a month without speaking to you!"

He was silent for a moment. She could practically see her words ticking over in his head as he tried to process them. It was almost painful to watch.

"But," he dragged out the vowel as he mulled over something for a second, "Why would you not want to go a month without talking to me?"

Rose's face dropped. She considered momentarily that Scorpius truly didn't understand what she had just said, but then realized that the very thought was ridiculous. He was top of their class and completed his Healer training in record time (ok Stalker, how did you know that?); there was no conceivable way he couldn't figure out what she had just said. Which meant he was just a sadistic bastard. A sadistic bastard who was keeping her from sleep on Christmas morning.

Rat Bastard. Maybe she didn't like him as much as she thought.

"You're actually going to make me just come out and say it aren't you?" she asked in a tone that suggested he reply in the negative. He simply nodded his head.

Rat bastard with a death wish.

"Fine!" Rose relented because she really just wanted to go to bed, "You win! I like you, Scorpius – there, you happy? And before you ask me to clarify, yes – in that way. I wrote you that stupid Christmas card because I had the apparently totally bogus idea that it would somehow sprout ongoing correspondence which would hopefully lead to us going on a proper date. But obviously, that's not going to happen as the thought of me liking you is completely beyond your comprehension."

She realized by the ringing in her ears, that she had gotten not only loud but very high-pitched throughout the course of her little speech. Rose was mentally preparing her counter-attack to one of her neighbors coming out and yelling at her when a small, tentative sound pulled her from her internal monologue.

"You like me?" Scorpius asked, looking awed and in total disbelief, "You, Rose Weasley, like me, Scorpius Malfoy?"

Rose was most tempted to say no and slam the door in his face, but from what she could make out, he looked too much like a puppy to do so.

"Yes," Rose nodded, suddenly self-conscious despite her previous yelling, "I like you."

The silence that followed was perhaps the longest and most painful of her life. It was ultimately broken by one utterly syllable.

"Oh," he said quietly as he stared at the floor. Rose didn't respond – she couldn't respond. She was either moments from passing out, crying, or falling asleep right here against the doorframe. She couldn't decide which would be more embarrassing.

Scorpius cleared his throat and rocked on his heals, suddenly embodying awkward in it's purest form.

"Right," he nodded, "Well that's…uh…that's good to know."

He nodded again and continued to rock.

"Yes, yes," he couldn't even look at her, "Good to know. Well, I better be off."

"What?" Rose's tone resembled gravel as she stared him down, "That is all you have to say? Good to know?!"

Scorpius looked like a lost puppy again – utterly confused and more than a little bit scared.

"I just pour out my heart and make a complete arse of myself and you don't even have the decency to tell me you don't like me to my face?" Rose tried her best to sound angry rather than embarrassed and sad but she was failing rather drastically. Scorpius looked at her then. Actually looked at her. He opened and closed his mouth several times and swallowed air more times than Rose could count (but then again, Rose's math ability wasn't at its best at 4am).

"I…" he stopped and smiled sadly at her, "I like you too, Rosie."

They stared at each other.

And they stared at each other.

Aaaand they stared at each other.

This was just ridiculous! In all those muggle movies she watched at her grandparents house, Rose knew that this was the moment that the boy was supposed to kiss the girl and make her dreams come true. He was supposed to do the big declaration of love (of like, whatever it counted) and then he was supposed to kiss her.

So why the frig was Scorpius just standing there staring at her dumbly.

"That's it?" she asked indelicately, "That's all you're gunna do?"

He smiled meekly at her.

"It's actually taking all my will power to stop myself from jumping in the air like a dick and kissing you senseless," came his whispered response.

Ok, so he had no idea when he decided that brutal honesty was the best approach, but based on the glowing smile he got in response, Scorpius guessed it was a pretty good strategy.

Rose leant forward a bit and whispered to him.

"I wouldn't mind if you did."

So Scorpius jumped in the air like a dick.

And then he kissed her.


And I'm done. Merry Christmas everyone! Please make my Christmas wish come true and review - really it would make me very happy.

Also, BP chappie is half-written so an upload shouldn't be too far away. Fingers crossed.

All my love,

Grae xo