10 Reasons Why
"Ahem."
It was the fifth throat clearing Scorpius had heard come from the table closest to him in as many minutes. His grip on his quill tightened as his lips twitched in annoyance. Either the person in the next table had a hippogriff stuck in their throat, or they were trying to get his attention. Probably the former, he decided, as he had picked this one table that lay deep in the shadowy crevices of the library so that he might find some peace and quiet to finish this damn essay. No one should've found him because no one was supposed to know he was here—hence the table he had chosen in the shadows.
"Ahem."
He slapped his newly dipped quill down onto his parchment, splattering ink over the wall, barely missing his essay. Looking up to the table next to him, he saw, through narrowed eyes, none other than Rose Weasley, looking thoroughly engrossed in a book. A Muggle book, from the looks of it. He had never seen it before.
"Weasley, would you kindly cease that incessant throat clearing of yours?" he asked slowly. He had class in an hour, his essay wasn't even halfway done, and his already bad mood was teetering over the edge of 'bitch fit'.
"Finally," Rose said, marking her page and turning to Scorpius, rolling her eyes. "I think I've scratched my throat from all that time I've been trying to get your attention."
His curiosity was piqued, but Scorpius reminded himself that this was his rival speaking, and also that he really did need to finish this essay so he muttered a detached, "Unfortunately for you, I've got other, more important places for my attention to be so you'll have to go bother someone else. Hopefully somewhere very far from here."
Rose chuckled, not at all detracted by his rudeness. Scorpius scowled. He knew Rose Weasley was the most stubborn person in the entire world and he would need more than some mean words to detract her. Merlin help me, he thought gazing sadly at his unfinished essay. He pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, "What do you want?"
"I," she said with enthusiasm, pointing at herself unnecessarily, "want to ask you," she pointed to him, "to the Girl's Choice Spring Fling next week."
Scorpius just looked at her. "You're not serious, are you?" he asked, hoping—nay, praying—that this was a joke, that any moment, one of her billion cousins would come up and scream, "April Fools!" or something but nothing of the sort happened. Rose was still watching him expectantly, her mocha brown eyes open and honest. Good God, she was serious.
"Come on, don't be such a priss," she said as she came over to his table and plopped down gracefully, pausing to blow one red curl out of her face before continuing, "I would've gone with my girlfriends as a group because Bitsy is boycotting boys at the moment and we all wanted to support her—" Here, she shook her head, as if to get herself back on topic, and that rogue curl fell over her face again, "—anyway, I was just walking through here and I saw you in the corner and I thought, 'hmm, what if I went with Malfoy?'"
Scorpius had to admit, he was utterly flabbergasted. And that wasn't something he normally felt. "But why?" he asked, unable to get anything else out.
"Why not?" Rose asked, tilting her chair back on its hind legs and shrugging. "I think it'd be kinda scandalous. Imagine the scene as we walk in together—everyone'll be talking about it for weeks. We can tell people who ask how it happened different stories every time they ask so we can cause some confusion—it'll be loads of fun and God knows I'm bored enough."
Scorpius raised a blonde brow. Was this really his rival, the person he'd vowed to beat in everything from school to Quidditch ever since she'd come out top of their year when they were eleven? Or had she been possessed by some demon? He knew she was bold and open-minded, traits that shone out of every bit of her and clearly showed why she had been placed in Gryffindor, but wasn't there some line that wasn't supposed to be crossed, something to the effect of 'Thou shalt not go to dances with archrivals'?
She was still looking at him, still waiting for his answer.
"Weasley," he said, reaching deep into his internal reserve of patience, "that's not a good enough reason why."
She only tilted her chair back further on its back legs, crossing her arms and watching him thoughtfully. "I'll give you a real reason why then."
"No," he stopped her before she could start because when Rose Weasley got the ball rolling, it never stopped. "I'll give you a couple of reasons why not. One, I don't fancy being torn apart by the Potter-Weasley clan. I have a long life ahead of me full of potential and I intend on living it and not being raped and/or killed by your cousins."
Rose barked out a laugh, loud and full, that hung in the air long after it ended. "Okay, my cousins won't kill you for going to a dance with me. Merlin. It's just a dance."
"That's not how they'll see it," he muttered darkly. Scorpius was no coward but he sure as hell would avoid a beating if he could. And James Potter, the king of the school, was bloody huge. "Two," he said quickly as she opened her mouth to interrupt, "my family would get wind of this and my father would never let me see the end of it."
Rose chewed her lip for a moment, considering this "That's a good one," she said, nodding. "But Scorpius, we're not our parents."
Scorpius shrugged. He knew that his father hated Rose's father with an unbridled passion and was pretty sure that feelings on the other side were wholly reciprocated. Scorpius was not afraid of his father, per se, but he shuddered to think if the lecture he would receive if he were to go with Rose to this dance and the news somehow reached Ol' Draco.
"Weak reasons," Rose told him, her eyes twinkling.
"I'm not done yet," he informed her, pulling himself out of his thinking. "Which one are we on now?"
"Three."
"Right. Three, I'm in Slytherin and you're in Gryffindor. I don't think I need to elaborate on that."
Rose's smile faltered, her eyebrows closing in over her eyes. "You're pulling houses into this? Really?"
"Why not?" Scorpius countered lazily. "We've already dragged family into it." When she continued to look disappointed, he rolled his eyes. "Weasley, Gryffindors don't mix with Slytherins like this. It's in our nature because our personalities clash."
The smile was back in an instant. "Opposites attract."
"If opposites attract, then why am I here having this argument with you about reasons why we shouldn't go to the dance together?"
She let her chair fall heavily on all fours and looked at him seriously for the first time. "Because you are Scorpius Malfoy and you hate change."
He blinked. He didn't know what he had expected to hear when he posed the question, but it wasn't this. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," she said. "You're comfortable with how things are because they're safe. Listening to your father and becoming my rival is safe—don't deny it," she said before he could get in a word edgewise. "My father told me the same thing. You started it in the beginning of school and didn't bother changing the status quo because you don't know what will happen if you do. You'd rather things just stayed the same."
Scorpius was silent as she spoke. He couldn't deny that her words held a whisper of truth—he didn't like change, but not because he was afraid of it. More because he just didn't like changing routines he'd been used to for years. He and Rose weren't enemies, but they weren't friends either. Scorpius had held her at an arm's length, using her exceptional grades as an incentive to boost his own and be the best. He never bothered to change that because it suited him just fine.
Rose cleared her throat again. Scorpius snapped to, blinking out of his thoughts.
"Are you done with your reasons?" she asked.
"No," he said firmly. "Four," he said, and she nodded in confirmation after checking her fingers—she was counting them. "Four, you'd make a lot of enemies by going with me to the dance. A lot."
She frowned, a little crease forming between her eyes. "What?"
Scorpius shrugged. "I don't know if you know that I have a lot of, ah, admirers that will be out for blood if I'm seen with you at a dance of all places."
Rose pursed her lips. "I don't have an argument for this one. Continue."
Scorpius bit back a smirk, glad to have succeeded in shutting her up for once. Even she couldn't deny that he had carved a path of broken hearts throughout the years all over Hogwarts and beyond, and those sheer numbers, coupled with the girls that wanted him that he hadn't found time for would very likely kill Rose if news ever broke out that they were doing so much as smiling at each other, much less going to a party together.
"Five," he said, his mind buzzing to fill his mouth with words before Rose got a word in edgewise. "We're academic rivals. We're supposed to exploit each other in search of weaknesses to use to distract and thus top one another in marks."
Rose raised her eyebrows, amused. "Oh, really?"
"Yes, really. Going to the dance together would rather defeat the purpose, don't you think?"
"I think," Rose said, smiling, back in her element, "that just because we're rivals in academics doesn't mean it has to affect our personal lives."
Scorpius said nothing. He wasn't really surprised that Rose kept the various parts of her life separate from one another, a feat he himself had never really been able to accomplish. To him, a rival on the field was a rival off the field. There was no need to complicate things unnecessarily.
"Six," he stated after glancing at her fingers quickly, "is an extension of five. We're Quidditch rivals, Weasley. If you get too attached to me—which," he added as she snorted unceremoniously, "is very likely, don't fight that fact—then it may hinder our abilities to play against each other properly."
"Highly improbable," she said, still chortling softly. "I don't let my personal life get tangled up in Quidditch."
"Seven," he said, pausing for a moment to think before it hit him suddenly. "Your ex. What's his name? Oh—Alexander Wood. He would pummel me. Mercilessly."
Rose mulled over his words. "Hmm. It's been nearly three months. I'm sure he's over it."
"I doubt it," Scorpius muttered, recalling vividly an incident that had taken place last week involving Wood, a Ravenclaw that had flirted with Rose all through Charms and then at dinner, and a Quidditch goal post.
"Okay, Alexander may be a good point, but he is a problem with a simple solution," she said offhandedly, waving the matter away with a flick of her wrist. "Now, go on. What else ya got?"
He frowned, thinking. A glance at her still counting fingers told him he had reached eight.
"Run out already?" she said in teasing tones.
"Not yet," he replied. "Eight, I have a certain rule about not going to functions with people who are, well, better looking than me."
Rose's eyebrows disappeared into her hair. She opened and closed her mouth several times and it was clear that she was choosing between chastising him and accepting what he said as a compliment. Scorpius had not intended for it to be a compliment, it was a fact. Rose was pretty, he had always thought so, with her warm features and slim physique contrasting sharply with her rambunctious personality. He was sure her beauty would eclipse his own should he show up at the dance arm in arm with her.
"You are vain," she observed, choosing to chastise him. "Scarily so."
"Vanity is my favorite sin," he said, smirking.
Rose rolled her eyes and checked her fingers.
"Nine," he said, then paused, wondering how to say what he knew was probably the most important of the reasons.
"Nine," she repeated encouragingly.
"Nine," he began, then he barreled on in one breath, "society would have a field day. The son of Draco Malfoy going to a dance with the daughter of Hermione and Ron Weasley. It'll cause quite a fuss." Especially since the Weasleys are hated within pureblood society, he finished in his head, shuddering to think of the scathing glares he would receive from members of the society his mother always had over for parties at home. But he didn't say anything, and he told himself that wasn't just because Rose's face darkened with disappointment at his words.
"Scorpius, who cares?" she asked, shaking her head. "You're not living for them, you're living for you. Who cares what they think?"
Good questions, although she wouldn't like his answers. Rose wouldn't understand—couldn't understand—the pureblood rites and traditions. She was too open-minded to grasp them.
"Ten," he continued, and her face cleared, ready for the next one. "Ten, if we do go together to this thing, then we are very likely to end up killing each other."
Rose scoffed. "I really don't think—"
"We've been rivals since we were kids," he said over her. "We can't carry a conversation without having some kind of disagreement—"
"That's not true," she interjected, then laughed that boisterous laugh again, realizing her slip up.
"We have clashing personalities, we're from opposite ends of the social spectrum—"
"I thought I told you that didn't matter."
"I never said I agreed with you on that."
"We don't agree on anything."
Scorpius raised an eyebrow, and Rose laughed again.
"Ten reasons why you shouldn't go with me," she said, shaking her head sadly, "and I can't come up with a single reason why you should."
"I can," he said. He ignored the way his heart beat just a little faster.
Rose looked at him, confused.
"One," he said, putting up a finger, "although there is a huge chance we probably will end up killing each other… I don't think we will."
She blinked several times, and Scorpius suddenly felt a trickle of what could only be described as fear slide down his spine. Then, her face split with a toothy grin and she nodded her agreement.
"I don't think we will, either," she said.
He let a smile grace his features as he turned back to his unfinished essay and she went back to her book. When he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, she was still grinning.
She didn't interrupt him again.
-FIN-