Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Without further ado, I give you…
Quidditch and Rose Pancakes.
I narrowed my eyes and marked an imaginary X at the right corner of the hoop…er..assuming for a second that circles have corners of course… Right. Focus, Weasley.
Malfoy's smirking face flashed across my mind as I leaned forward on my broom. I grit my teeth. If I missed this shot, Stacey Wood would bury me alive and then host a tea party on top of my grave. Everyone would dance away merrily into the night while I somersaulted in my pitiful grave, heaping curses on the noble and ancient sport of Quidditch and raising my army of Inferi.
Okay that's just plain ridiculous- I would never curse Quidditch.
And phrasing it like that just makes it sound like an evil pureblood motto or something. Noble and ancient. Huh. Yeah, right. Though I suppose it is noble...and it's not exactly-
TWEEEET!
-that new a sport either and…Oh shit! Was that the whistle? Oh my God, that was totally the whistle. Don't kill me, Wood!
I zoomed forward to where the slytherin keeper was performing a Double Eight Loop at a hundred miles an hour. Damn those SilverSticks…..
Right. Aim. Swerve. Dodge. Feint. Shoot. Aaaand she scores! Bam!
"Whooo!" I performed a double backflip on my broom just to show off and stuck my tongue out at the keeper- Monty, Moneto, Minky? Drat it all, what the bludger is his name- just for good measure.
"Alright, Rose! Keep it up!" Stacey slapped me on the back and I felt the air leave my lungs with a whoosh.
Merlin. They should call her Stacey 'Iron Hands' Wood. Except that would be really awkward for her boyfriend Tim. I mean Iron and Wood? Really? Wouldn't he feel a bit emasculated? I mean how are you supposed to live up to something like that. You really don't stand a chance because every time you brag about your prowess someone would just go and say something like "But we all know it's your girlfriend who's got the iron wood Timmy" or "Are you sure she's not too hard on you?"
Wow. I should send Tim some flowers or something. He's got a much harder life than I ever realized.
The ref blew his whistle again and we zoomed back into our positions at our end of the pitch.
130-120
We were ahead, but only just. If Scor-Malfoy caught the snitch then we were finished. I glanced at Greg Wilson, our seeker and urged him on mentally.
Come on Greg! Do it! Catch the snitch! Go for the goal! Get it! Be the eye of the snake!- Okay maybe not snake- Be the eye of the lion! Do us PROUD!
Wilson gave me a funny look and I realized I'd been staring at him with half closed eyes and a twitching eyelid for the past 30 seconds. Oops. Anyway.
Woah!
I went on a tailspin as Al zoomed past me and chucked the Quaffle at our middle hoop.
It went through, sinking to the ground and taking my heart along with it.
130-130
Okay, time to get down to business. I took a deep breath and avoided looking at Malfoy. No distractions. Perfect focus.
I caught the Quaffle as it descended and sped forward.
"Hawkshead!" I yelled!
Okay, I love the Hawkshead Attacking Formation- it's so bloody brilliant. Basically, all three chasers form a V-shaped attack line and fly forward at a wicked pace. It scares the shit out of the keeper and forces other players out of the way.
Haah. Who says Rose Weasley doesn't know her stuff?
Okay, no one says that, but still.
I passed the Quaffle back even as we sped across the pitch and Taylor caught it and passed it to Hughes. Hughes to Taylor. Taylor to Rose. Rose to Hughes.
This is one of my own plays- we pass the quaffle between us while doing the Hawkshead because its confusing as shit and leaves any of us open to score in any of the hoops.
The commentator was screaming something or the other but nobody was listening because it's Lysander and nobody ever listens to Lysander.
With the Quaffle back in my hands for the millionth time, I finally chucked it and it soared through the right hoop.
YES!
140-130.
"Take that Slytherouts!"
Hahaa, geddit? Slyther-outs? Huh huh? No? Well, damn.
As I wheeled around to get back to my side of the pitch, my eyes connected with Scorpius'. He clapped his hands mockingly and looked at me with this permanent sneer. Okay, not so permanent, because I'd seen him with Albus and he was perfectly fine then. I guess I just bring out the petty toddler in him.
I sneered right back. Haah. Two can play at this game!
Oh, great. He's laughing. Why is he laughing?
WHY IS HE LAUGHING AT ME?
"Rose, are you okay?" Hughes asked concernedly. "You look constipated. You don't want to throw up or anything do you?" he looked suddenly panicky and began edging away in midair.
"Idiot!" I snapped at him. "Why on earth would I throw up if I was feeling constipated? Which I am NOT, for your information."
I glowered at him till he backed off, looking terrified.
Good. Fear good. Muahaa Roar.
Okay, maybe sneering is just not my thing. Still, I could try smirking. Or leering. Or both!- Like, lirking. Oh wait. That's a word isn't it? Like, Lurking. Lurking=Stalking.
I DON'T STALK MALFOY.
Really.
It was just that one time at the burrow when he was staying over and I walked in on him in the washroom and it really wasn't my fault because a) it was MY house! And b) What kind of person bathes without locking the door and c) It's not as If I told him to go and be all hot and yummy-looking!
I mean geez, kill a girl for looking why don'tcha?
Oh shit, I've been staring at Malfoy this whole time and he's been staring back and I'm still staring and HE'S still staring- Look away dammit!- okay now whats he doing, he's…he's…..smirking. Of course.
Like what you see? He mouthed at me.
I mouthed back something very rude and turned away, seething.
Dominique would call this sexual tension. In fact, she does call it sexual tension.
Every. Bludgering. Day.
I mean every time me and Malfoy fight she just goes like "Wow you two should get over the sexual politics and just snog already!" as if all I'm ever thinking of is snogging Malfoy. Which I'm obviously not. I mean, duh. Why would anyone? It's not as if he's that good a snogger.
Which I know because of that one time he kissed me at New Years. And okay so it wasn't completely terrible- honestly, he was way better than Davies and Mathews and that Turner bloke. Especially that Turner bloke. But still. It's not as If I want to snog him again or anything. Obviously.
Okay, head in the game. What's the sitch?
140-160
Holy Macaroni, we're losing! This cannot be! It must not be!
I threw myself into the game and for the next 20 minutes of game play, I am proud to say my head was completely in the game.
Finally, the big score,
170-170
Someone catch the snitch already!
Someone! Anyone! Anyone except Malfoy!
Geez Wilson, do your job already.
"INCOMING!"
Huh?
Oh, BLUDGER!
Like a real-
WHAM!
I heard the sickening crunch of the iron ball- no joke, those losers toss iron balls around the pitch and whack them at people- colliding with my face.
My vision spun, pretty lights popping in and out in front of my eyes like those ones on those muggle dance machines.
I heard my name being screamed repeatedly, always from a different angle.
Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose.
Odd. Is that Scorpius' voice? Nah, what do I know, I'm in shock.
Speaking of which, why haven't I fainted yet?
FAINT!
I did.
Oh my Merlin. I have to open my eyes now, don't I?
No mummy no! Don't make me! I'll do anything!
I opened my eyes.
And glared at….no one. Seriously?
There's nobody here at what is probably my deathbed? Some friends.
You lend them your clothes, you do their homework, you save them from calories by eating their easter eggs and when you're dying in slow agony, what do they do?
They. Don't. Show. Up.
Bludger!
They're probably teaching the Giant Squid Hebrew or something.
That seems like the sort of thing they'd do while their best friend and cousin is being slowly tortured by the menacing hands of death.
It's so sad that I'm related to all my friends….
Madam Pomfrey II bustled in at this moment, looking all busy and important.
"Madam Pompom!" I declared happily. "I'm so nappy to see you!"
Nappy? Really?
"Err…happy. I meant, happy."
Oh great, she's ignoring me.
"Umm, where is everyone?" I ventured.
"Asleep in their beds, where they should be. Its past midnight."
Oh, is it?
Oh, it is.
I can't believe I didn't notice considering my bed is right next to the window. I must be concussed or something.
"So, like, did anyone drop by or what?"
Madam Pomfrey the Second sniffed haughtily.
"The whole Weasley-Potter clan as a matter of fact. Along with that boy. What's his name? Ahh- hum…..ho….oh never mind. Get some sleep."
She bustled off, still looking busy and important.
Boy? There was a boy? A boy not related to me? Who who who who who! TELL!
I can't believe she just left me. What if I'm bleeding internally or something? What if I'm HUNGRY?
Right on cue, my stomach rumbled. Yay. Fun.
I poked my tummy sadly and sighed, raising my head.
Holy Muffinola!
I banged my head against the bedframe and looked up at Scorpius Malfoy towering over my bed like an apparition.
Oww my eyes are watering. I bet my hair is a mess. Do they give patients breathmints?
Not that I care.
"Why are you here?" I hissed.
"So you're awake," He said, much too jovially for this time of night.
I rolled my eyes.
"Way to go, Captain Obvious. Any more fascinating observations you'd like to make or can we move on to talking about the weather?"
He smirked again.
Smirk, Smirk, Smirk, Smirk right back at you!
Double Smirk! Smirk times infinity!
He walked forward and sat on the edge of my bed.
Whats he doing? WHAT?
I hope it's just a dream. Like that one I had that time where the both of us were stuck on that ship and he was the sexy captain and I was the stowaway-heathen-sex-goddess- and oh my god, shut up, Rose Weasley.
"You won," he said softly.
" Why thank you charming sir. Relinquished your heart finally, have you? We both knew it was only a matter of time."
What am I saying? WHAT?
He stared at me as If I had a tattoo of a naked house elf on my forehead.
Ew. Grossed myself out.
He shook his head slowly, enunciating every word slowly, as if I were a mental patient. Who knows, I probably am.
"Gryffindor. Gryffindor won."
I gaped at him. The match! I forgot about the match!
"How?"
He looked slightly embarrassed. That's weird. Never seen that expression on his face.
"Not important…stupid anyway….kill.." He mumbled.
I fixed him with my sternest, scariest, prefect-est look.
"Spill. Now."
He looked at me warily.
"Slytherin was disqualified as were one player down."
"What? I'm the one who got knocked out! And I'm Gryffindor!"
"Yeah but someone had to take you to the medical wing and it was a foul for slytherin anyway. Head shot."
I stared at him with mounting disbelief.
"You?" I said flatly.
"Me what?"
"You took me to the hospital wing? You?"
He scowled.
"My mistake. Next time I'll leave you to bleed out all over the pitch, shall i?"
I stared at him, trying to jog my memory. I was still half conscious there at the end. What do I remember...
Checklist Time!
Okay, getting whacked over the head- check.
Falling- check.
Hitting the ground?- No check.
So someone caught me.
I heard Scorp-Malfoy calling my name. He sounded so close…
Okay do the math, Weasley.
Fall+ Malfoy+ No splat+ Slytherin- One player= MALFOY CAUGHT ME.
Okay I am in shock. Even my socks are shocked. My eyebrows are shocked. My tonsils are shocked. My-
Okay, stopping now.
SO, Weasley gets whomped, Weasley falls, Weasley gets caught by Malfoy, Malfoy speeds off to hospital wing with Weasley. Slytherin fouled. Slytherin out. Gryffindor win.
WOAH.
Revelations.
I stared at him, open mouthed.
Attractive.
I bet I have dried drool on my face.
"Caught on have you?"
I blink at him. Strange. I forgot he could talk….
"You're welcome by the way."
Ehh? What's he- Ohhhh. Shit.
"Oh, umm, Thanks. For, you know, saving me from becoming a Rose pancake. Yeah. Err, Thanks. Yup."
Say hello to the queen of awkward.
"You're welcome," he said again.
We stared at each other for a while.
Wow. He really does have brilliant eyes. And hair. And skin. Mine's all freckly. Why do the evil, girl saving gits get the perfect complexion?
Where's the justice?
Where, I ask you!
Woah, we're still staring at each other. Maybe I should clear my throat.
I cleared my throat.
He snapped out of whatever he was in and leaned away.
Oh no, why do I feel so disappointed. Is he leaving? He's picking up his coat!
DON'T GO!
"So, Weasley. What do I get for saving the damsel in distress?"
Eh?
"Umm were you looking for some sort of monetary reward, cos I could go talk to my goblin but-"
He rolled his eyes and grabbed my chin.
"No Dummkopf. This is where you say, would a kiss do, kind sir?"
I snorted with laughter.
"That is completely ridiculous. I would never say-"
OH MY GOD. He's kissing me.
Scorpius Malfoy is kissing me.
And it's even better than New Years.
It's even better than the fireworks at New Years and that is saying something because they were genuine Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes products. (Buy some now at 5 galleons a box!)
All too soon, he's pulling away, and now we're staring at each other again.
I'm staring at him, speechless.
He's opening his mouth. He's gonna say something.
What? I love you? I need you? You're a terrible kisser?
"Your breath smells." He says flatly.
I gape at him.
"MALFO-"
He cuts me off with another kiss then pulls back and gives me a look.
You know, like a look. Those indecipherable ones boys give when you can't tell whether they're thinking about you or potatoes.
He turns abruptly and walks off.
"See you around, Weasley. Match on Friday."
I collapse back against my pillows.
I'm seething, I'm boiling, I'm mad, I'm- oh screw it, I'm going to sleep.
I just know I'm going to have that bloody ship dream.
I figured I ought to start with something small. I'm too busy for multi chaptered stuff and I hate it when people don't update so..well anyway. Sorry for any past/present tense mistakes you may find because I was highly confused as to which to write it in and I'm surei t shows here. Blehh. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed! Go on then. Review! Pretty please with a Scorpius on top :D