If there was one thing Rose Weasley loved most in this world, it was the ocean. Every time they went to visit her Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill at Shell Cottage she cherished every second of it. From the chaos every morning of fighting with her cousins and brother for the bathroom to brush her teeth, to squeezing past Aunt Ginny in the kitchen to get to the fridge, even the time spent with Uncle Harry sat near Dobby's grave as he retold stories of the house elf that gave his life for a war he never should have been a part of. She loved the smell of the ocean, the sea spray on her face, and the dampness and saltiness in her hair when she finally retreated to the cottage. The ocean was family. The ocean was home.
But the ocean itself…was so big and huge and mysterious to her. How amazing was it that her toes would be freezing in her ocean, but somewhere in another country, someone else's toes were warm in the same water? How beautiful was it that some days the water was so dark and terrifying, but other days it seemed clear as day, how could she ever question that beauty? Or how the water would lap at her feet, grasping for her ankles, desperately trying to hold onto her, to pull her in and never let her go – but that same water, that very same ocean, some days seemed not to care for her at all. She would step in and feel the prickles on her skin as the icy water ignored her, no more lapping, no more grasping.
The depths needed to be explored, the ocean was begging for it. It was so dark down there, so wild, so fresh and new. The creatures there, never discovered. The ocean floor, never mapped out. No one had ever felt the darkness of the ocean, felt the pressure of reality seeping out of their body as an entire existence was questioned. Emptiness was a void Rose wanted to know. She wanted to stumble around, tripping on nothing and everything. She wanted to meet those creatures from the deep and she wanted to memorize them with her fingertips. She wanted to know them so fully she could trace them again in the light. She wanted to feel their color and she wanted to taste their memories from a time she would never know.
She wanted to resurface and never tell a single soul what she had learned down there. That was hers, and hers alone. She wanted to share secrets with the deepest part of the ocean.
She loved standing knee deep in her ocean as the waves crashed against her hips, threatening to pull her under. She loved fighting her ocean as her toes slipped under the sand and the waves circled her body, pushing her forward and backwards and side to side. She always fought to stay above the water, but she always relented eventually. She always got pulled back under.
Rose was jealous when the moon kissed the ocean at night. Her ocean was so long and never ending and the moon was the only thing that knew what was going on on the other side as her waves licked the craters on the moon's surface. She craved that interaction with the ocean – she demanded it. She needed to know what would happen when she reached the end of the ocean, when she was close enough to touch the moon. But that was probably more wonderful than the depths of her ocean; at least she could never know what happens when she reached the end. Would she ever?
She loved drifting in the water too –
"-ROSE."
Rose blinked several times and looked around, dazed. "Merlin, what got into you? One second you were talking about quidditch and then the next you were…" Scorpius let his voice trail off. He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, attracting her attention.
"S-sorry," she stammered, letting out a breath. "My mind was elsewhere." She looked around The Three Broomsticks to make sure no one was staring. She always felt like people were staring when she was with him. What was the big deal? Couldn't two people enjoy a butterbeer together anymore? It wasn't like it was a secret, the two of them. There was never a rivalry between them, just friendly competition that always kept them trying to stay one step ahead of the other in classes. That lead to studying, and friendship, bickering, laughing, fights, tempers, smiles, and smirks. A kiss on the quidditch pitch in fifth year after Slytherin won the final match against Gryffindor – Rose lost a bet and Scorpius won a kiss.
"HELLO?" The tone in his voice was ebbing towards annoyed. "Honestly, Weasley, you're impossible when you get like this." Scorpius tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, leaning back against his chair. "Now I must know what's going on in that head of yours." His Head Boy pin reflected light across her eyes when he shifted forward in his seat, towards her.
He always insisted on wearing that pin even when they weren't in uniform. He tried to convince her to wear her Head Girl pin on everything too, but she refused. Rose furrowed her brow. "Why do you always insist on wearing that?" she demanded, pointing to his pin. "As if anyone needed a reminder, Malfoy, you bloody talk about it all the time." She huffed and crossed her arms, challenging him.
"What?" He was definitely annoyed now. "I can't believe you're seriously trying to argue with me about this right now-" he cut himself short. Smirked.
Scorpius leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. "Come on, Rosie, I know you're trying to pretend like you weren't drifting again. Spit it out – I want to know what you were thinking about."
Rose sighed, relenting. He knew her well enough to know when she didn't want to say something. She looked at him and flushed bright red and he snickered. "Your eyes," she said in a rush, the words forcing out of her mouth, "I was thinking about your eyes." Scorpius blinked for a second and she saw light pink spreading across the tops of his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. He was so weird when it came to receiving compliments. Much to her surprise, he pressed on.
"What do my eyes look like to you?"
Her intake of breath was quick and sharp. She was blushing even harder now. She looked at the table and smiled coyly before glancing back at him, her eyes locking with his. They were grey and icy and all too familiar.
"The ocean."