A/N: Because there's a thunder/lightening storm blazing outside that's slightly bothering me, and for:
Ultimate Het Love Competition, level: Ravenclaw, prompts: blizzard, sheepish, 'Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are easy' – Dr Seuss.
Of Strudels and Blizzards
Scorpius knew who'd sent him the letter even before he opened the window to let the extremely grumpy owl into the kitchen.
"There, there," he soothed the soaking bird, greatly risking losing a finger to its vicious bites. He picked the wet envelope from where the owl had dropped it on the counter and dried it gently by the fire before opening the envelope with a smile growing on his face.
Scor,
You've seen what the weather is like outside, and you know what that does to me. I just want to hide in a huge room filled with happiness of every kind.
In other news, Domi is off visiting her aunt in Paris and said I could go, too. Her Aunt Gabrielle is an artist, just like in those muggle books Vicky used to keep reading! Turns out those books actually belong to their Aunt Gabrielle and inspired her to follow her passion.
I wish I knew what I was passionate about.
What's the point of clearing the N.E.W.T.S with a decent score without having a job?
Yours Disgruntledly,
Rose.
He laughed softly at her letter and sent telepathic congratulations to Dominique. The girl had been crazy about visiting Paris and he was glad that a part of her grand dreams had materialised.
The owl chirped angrily, separating Scorpius from his momentary reverie.
"Hey, have a little patience!" he chided.
It squawked back at him, ruffling its feathers indignantly.
Scorpius sighed.
"She's asked you to return with a response, hasn't she?"
The bird chirped in affirmation and attempted to peck the finger closest to it.
"Don't do that, silly!" He grabbed a tiny slice of chicken from the side of the chopping board and offered it to the bird.
"Er, do you eat chicken?" The bird didn't look too happy.
Scorpius looked down at the piece of chicken he held. "Oh, right! That may seem rather cannibalistic, wouldn't it? An owl eating chicken…well let me see if I have a grain or two for you." The owl screeched impatiently, and the noise set Scorpius on edge.
"You are very annoying, you know that? Accio parchment!" A second later, a long scroll of parchment came flying towards him and he caught it deftly.
He turned around, looking for something to fill the parchment with when his eyes caught sight of some birdseed left over from when his mother had come to visit. Excellent. He grabbed a fistful and politely deposited it before the bird.
"Eat up, pecky," he grumbled. The bird obliged, contrite. "Accio quill!"
Dear Disgruntled Rose,
I know that I have said this to a hundred times in vain, but here goes my one hundred and seventy eighth attempt at pacifying you: Stop letting the blizzard get to you! I know it's not fear you feel, rather a strange unease.
I know it all.
Are you alone at home again? Where's – oh, wait. Dom's in France.
How about you –
His hands hovered above the parchment for a few seconds as he chewed on his lip nervously.
Would it be too much to invite her in when he was home alone on a snowy night that actually excited him as much as it unsettled her?
He really didn't want to drive her away, not when they'd just made up after yet another one of their earth-shattering rows.
How about you pop in here for some hot chocolate and my famous strudels? I've just baked some ad the kitchen smells delicious. Be warned, though – I have nothing you'd classify as food in my fridge, only dessert the aforementioned strudels) and hot chocolate.
And I know all too well how you get on that much sugar.
So I beg of you – if you do intend to take up on my invitation, come with a full stomach. A stomach filled with food, that is, not sugar.
Cheer up, Rosy!
Scorpius (Who's loving the weather a bit too much.)
P.S: That bird of yours is rather annoying. Whose does it belong to? I don't recognise it. What happened to Mr Hoots?
He chuckled sheepishly at the rather brazen post script. He then signed the parchment with a flourish and stuffed it into an envelope hastily as the owl, now done with its snack was shooting him annoyed death glares.
"You're a creepy one, you know that?" he muttered, securing the letter to its leg.
"Off you go!" He carried it to the window and opened it a bit too much, causing a huge half-opened bag of flour to tumble to the ground with the force of the wind. The powder flew up immediately and Scorpius coughed.
"Agh! Be safe; I have no idea how you're going to make it without being blown away." He warmed the bird in his palm before letting it fly off the windowsill. He watched till it became a little speck in the distance and then shut the window. His nose was frozen and there was flour everywhere.
Scorpius suddenly sneezed rather violently. "Maybe this blizzard isn't all that amazing," he conceded reluctantly. "Scourgify!"
He then grabbed a mug of hot chocolate and moved to the living room. Grabbing his favourite novel off the centre table, he avoided the elegant yet supremely uncomfortable sofas (a result of his mother's extreme insistence) and opted for the plush, more comfortable beanbag that he had purchased with his first salary.
He was just about done reading ten pages when sharp, impatient taps resounded on the kitchen windows.
"Who could it be now?" he wondered as he reluctantly parted with the beanbag to get to the kitchen.
A different owl waited for him this time, envelope in beak. It looked huge and majestic and for a moment Scorpius felt really bad that it had flown through such tempestuous skies.
"Hey there, big guy," he cooed softly, taking the letter from its beak. The owl merely moved its head in response.
He opened the envelope only to be welcomed by Rose's familiar scrawl.
Scor,
How do you manage to write so much in such little time?
Strudels do sound rather delicious, but I am stuck babysitting Uncle Charlie's new pet dog for a bit. His name is Norbert; apparently it's a huge inside joke between him and Hagrid. The dog and Aunt Katie don't get along too well, so I am stuck with the monster till Uncle Charlie is able to pacify Auntie.
Here's Gruzzly, by the way. He's Uncle Charlie's owl and he's much nicer. Hope the other one didn't bother you too much; he came back a much happier owl than I'd sent him. He's a spare owl Mum keeps around just in case.
Are you going to help me decide what to work as?
Rose
P.S: When the hell can I expect to see some sunshine in the skies?
Scorpius couldn't help but feel a swoop of disappointment at the words he read. She wasn't coming, then.
He was being stood up because of a dog?
He didn't quite understand why it bothered him so much, but he did grin at the sight of Rose alone at her parent's place with nothing but a dog for company. Not a very pleasant animal, from what he'd read.
A plan began to form in his mind.
She was alone at home, anyways.
How about he pop in for a visit instead?
The idea gripped his mind, and he started writing.
Rosie,
Just tell me what it is that you want to do, and I can help you get a job in no time. What I can't do for you is decide your career path.
Don't give me your usual 'but you know me so well!' response. Only you can make such huge decisions for yourself.
Rosie, I've been thinking. What if I pop in for a visit instead? Your mum's far more welcoming than both my parents, anyways. And I have all this hot strudel just begging to be eaten.
Let me know?
Love,
Scor.
P.S: This owl is a gentle, gorgeous beast and you need to ask your Uncle Charlie where I can get myself one.
He didn't hesitate before adding the word 'love' as he signed the letter off. He hadn't even realised that he'd penned that down till he received her next letter precisely seventeen minutes after that.
Dear, dear Scor,
Your previous letter was rather…surprising.
Rose
He blinked twice at that cryptic little message and his whole being was consumed by an immediate desire to know just what she was hinting at.
Rose,
Surprising how? I do not quite follow.
Love,
Scorpius.
His hands paused before he could fold the parchment.
He'd discovered the cause of Rosie's surprised.
He smirked as a plan formed in his mind and he sent the letter, restlessly awaiting a response.
Rose didn't disappoint.
Scor,
Stop playing dumb with me.
'Love', Scorpius? That's the first time in six years that you've signed off like that.
Wondering what's up,
Rose.
He laughed at her response, loving her even more for catching on to his devious little mind. She was perfect for him in every, single way imaginable, and he couldn't anymore think of a life for himself in which Rose Weasley didn't exist.
He sighed, wondering if a letter was a right way to do what he'd been gathering up the courage to do.
His fragmented mind was clashing with itself. One on side, all he wanted was to speak to her face to face, though he knew that he'd probably be more than just a little bit nervous. But he was also a Malfoy, and the family genes had bestowed him with more than his fair share of good looks and charm to match.
But on the other hand, the girl simply loved letters. That's how they'd befriended each other, in the first place – when he'd found a letter on his bed from her in the first year, telling him that he'd better watch out that year because she was going to beat him in every single lesson.
He still didn't know how that letter had wound up on his bed, but it had sparked a string of interactions that had gotten them to where they were now.
He played with the parchment for several long moments while the owl's huge eyes followed his every movement.
"Hey, you aren't going to bite me, are you Gruzzly?" His previous experiences with owls had made him wary.
The owl just stared back at him and Scorpius took that to be a positive answer.
He finally unfurled the scroll of parchment he'd been toying with, and scribbled hastily.
Dearest Rose,
Nothing gets past you, does it?
I wonder how all of this got past me, though, and how it wasn't obvious enough from the very beginning.
I Love You, Rose Weasley. I don't know since when, but I do know that I have loved you for quite some time now.
Is there a way we can meet? I would love to talk to you right now.
Yours,
Scorpius.
He whispered prayers into the universe as he tied the letter onto the patient bird's leg and sent him off.
He'd hardly gotten to his beanbag when the fireplace burst to life and a grinning Rose stepped neatly out of the embers.
"I hear you have strudels and hot chocolate to offer," she announced, very much enjoying Scorpius' slack-jawed expression of awe.
"How are you - I mean, the dog, and Aunt Katie, and - wait, are you coming from - "
Rose held a hand up to silence the rambling boy and he complied very willingly for perhaps the first time ever.
She walked up to him and the smug look of satisfaction that was written into her features was replaced by a sweet, almost shy smile.
Scorpius couldn't believe his eyes.
"Took you long enough to ask."
Sometimes, the questions are complicated; but the answers are simple enough.
"I love you, too, Scor."
Please do leave a review if you've made it till here; thank you so much, and I hope you enjoyed reading.