Chapter One:
Rose Weasley swirled her tumbler full of amber liquid before drawing it lazily up to her full pink lips. Sipping the potent scotch, she refused to make a face as the acrid liquor burned its way down her throat. Ignoring it, she surveyed the scene around her in agitated disdain. She had had more than enough of these boorish ministry events her father forced her to attend.
She appraised the glowing ballroom as lumpy and balding wizards patted themselves on the back and lauded each others shallow achievements. It was all fairly sickening. Her father, Ron Weasley, famed best friend of Harry Potter could be found smack dab in the middle of the circle of jerks.
It's a curious thing, growing up.
She remembered a time when she thought her father was the world's greatest hero, the grand protector, the champion of the universe, and all that rubbish. Turns out he was nothing more than a lying, attention greedy prick, hell bent on ruining their family.
So much had changed in the last four months. She glared at him as he called her mother over, snapping his fingers to get her attention, as if she were his dog.
Hermione Granger, Witch Weekly's Woman of the Year, sauntered over smiling like a school girl at her husband. Her mother was stunning in a white floor length gown, as she gracefully made her way over. No one could ever doubt how devoted and doting of a wife she was to Ron. Seeing her like that instantly made Rose want to hurl. He was so completely undeserving. The room was noisy and obnoxious and she could not take a second more. Slamming her glass tumbler down on the bar, she booked it for the nearest exit which just happened to be out into the court yard.
From across the room, a precocious pair of silver eyes watched the auburn vision pound the tiles in her black stilettos towards the doors to the garden. He noted the angry sway in her hips, and her clenched fists. Truth be told he had been watching her all night. Scratch that, all semester really.
Examining the golden child's spiraling fall from grace had become his favorite past time. Rose Weasley, though still holding nearly top marks, had for some unexplainable reason slowly started to implode on herself like a dying star after returning to school that fall for their sixth year.
Gone was the bright witch with the sharp tongue and quick wit, ready to put any and all in their place at the drop of a knut. Her sudden, unexplainable bought of depression had occurred almost as if over night. Dark circles appeared under her crystal blue eyes, she always seemed to be deeply lost in thought, and she never argued with any of the professors anymore. In fact, he hadn't heard a single outburst of her nearly constant sickening I know everything about everything, so there speeches. The corner of his languid mouth tipped up slightly as a sudden thought both surprised and annoyed him: he actually missed them.
Goading Rose had always been way too much fun. For the past five years it had served as the best means to an end. If he was pissed off at the day, or bored, or say it was a Tuesday, she always provided the best entertainment. He was self aware enough to know the truth behind it. There was something about having Rose's attention, even if in a negative way, that he needed. At first once he discovered his true motives for provoking the girl all the time, he was completely disgusted with himself. But as the years went on, he had come to terms with it. Its not that he fancied her….it wasn't quite that evolved. The conclusion he had come to was simply this: As she was the only girl in all the school he would never pursue romantically, and being the insatiable attention monger that he was… it made sense that their relationship had progressed thusly. Just because he didn't want her dreamy adoration like he received from the other female students, didn't mean he wouldn't demand some form of attention from her all together.
Needless to say, when Rose came back to school for their sixth year, something was drastically amiss when he couldn't even illicit an eye roll for his annoying jabs. Gone was the fiery Gryffindor princess, and in her place was a comatose zombie Rose who hardly even spoke to her family or friends anymore.
He had observed from a distance and after three months of watching her shrink into herself even more, his curiosity was fully peaked. He had to find out what had happened to the girl.
"So Draco, excited for the big match against Slytherin next weekend?" Templeton Penthick asked, drawing Scorpius from his thoughts. His smile grew as both he and the crowd of men he was standing with turned towards the stoic, sober presence that was his father. His smile grew wider yet as he answered,
"Can't wait actually." Turning his head to the side, he locked eyes with his father, "Which side are you planning to sit on, Pop?"
Draco Malfoy made a curt smile. "I'll sit on the side that's going to win." He stated vaguely, pausing for dramatic effect before his eyes softened as he took in his son, "Which of course, is always the side a Malfoy is on." A genuine smile lit up Scorpius' face as he nodded approvingly. "I'll even wear blue." Draco smirked as he stepped over to clap his son on the back.
Though it had been quite a shock to his system the day he received the owl informing him his son had been sorted into Ravenclaw, it was easily the best thing that could have ever happened for their family's public image. The need to remove themselves from any remnant of ties to the Dark Lord had been and still remained paramount.
The Malfoy's had lingered on the fringes of society until that day. It had helped that Lucious was dead of course. But even still, separating himself from the atrocious stigma that came with the Malfoy name was an on going battle. It was only because they were filthy rotten rich, and Draco had wisely spent over half of their vast fortune trying to piece back together the wizarding world that they had even been tolerated in polite society.
But that all changed the day Scorpius had been sorted into Ravenclaw. His spawn was absolutely brilliant to be sure. He held the top marks in the school for five straight years, something he loved to bring up whenever in the presence of Mrs. Hermione Weasley. But more than that, Scorpius had a certain likeable magnetism to him that people just couldn't seem to ignore. He had an easy going nature, and an unparalleled sense of humor that must have come from somewhere on his mother's side. But to take the cake, Scorpius somehow managed the unfeasible ability to maintain both a stunning confidence, and genial humility at the same time. If he wasn't the spitting image of himself, Draco would be sure the boy could not be his son. How something so pure and good could have come from the clusterfuck that was Draco Malfoy's life, he'll always wonder.
Scorpius had made friends instantly, and it was through him that Draco and Astoria Malfoy had begun to receive invitations to the other Ravenclaw parents' little soirées. It would be rude to invite an eleven year old to their New Year 's Eve party and not extend and invitation to his parents of course. It almost seemed to prove to the world that the Malfoy name had been redeemed, for no one dared to doubt the steadfast judgment of an old dirty hat. A new era was being ushered in with his son, and Draco couldn't be more pleased.
"If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have to say hello to someone," Scorpius politely bowed his head,
"Could it be a lass?" Penthick chuckled. Scorpius offered the half drunk men a mischievous grin, and simple shoulder shrug as he walked away, which set the lot of them off into a knowing roar of laughter.
He walked swiftly towards the exit the eldest Weasley had made her way through a few moments before, passing through the back of the bar on his way. He smoothly scooped up two upside down wine glasses in one hand, and picked up a bottle of pinot noir in the other, as he quickly made his way out the other side and towards the door. Behind him he could hear the bar back yell at him.
The brisk winter air slapped him across the face the moment he was outside. Though the terrace had been enchanted to be warmer, it was still quite chilly. He set the wine bottle down on the wide stone stair post, pulled out his wand and popped the cork out. Scooping it back up he made his way down the steps, looking about the moonlit courtyard for the runaway.
It didn't take long to find her. In the back of the courtyard, was a terrace that overlooked a deep river valley below. He approached quietly, not yet ready to be noticed. He stopped several meters away and took in the site before him.
Leaning on the wide stone railing of the terrace, propped up on her elbows stood Rose. Her short black dress road up slightly due to her bent over form. The small girl's perfect legs where criss-crossed which made them appear longer paired with her black stilettos. Her shoulders were bare due to the cut of the dress, and even in the dim moonlight he could see how thin she had become.
Then to his dismay, he watched her wipe the back of her hand across her face. Was she crying? Had he snuck up on her in what was likely meant to be a moment of solitude? His insatiable curiosity truly knew no bounds, and he was only slightly surprised in himself when he cleared his throat to get her attention.
Her back went rigid at the noise as she stood up straight and turned around. Her eyes were still watery, proving that she had indeed just been crying. She stared at him with her big blue eyes, saying nothing. After a moment her eyes narrowed, as she turned up her nose slightly.
"What do you want Malfoy?" she spat.
"I saw you leave." He said softly, hoping she could tell by his tone he had not come to antagonize her. "I thought you might care for a drink?" he held up his provisions like a proverbial peace offering. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she stared at the wine bottle in his hand.
Though he had noticed earlier that she was drinking Ogdens, he chose the wine specifically. White wine would have said, I think you're a Priss, Ogden's or Firewhisky would have said, I want to get you drunk and alone so I can fondle you. A deep red, however, had always felt like the perfect way to ask, "Want to commiserate?"
After a moment she nodded slowly. It was invitation enough, and Scorpius made his way over to her setting the glasses down upon the wide flat stone railing. He poured them each a glass, and handed one over to her, careful not to brush her fingers and so imply any other intentions. She eyed him skeptically, clearly unsure of the situation.
"Nice night," Scorpius announced glancing up at the flawless sky, speckled with diamond like stars.
"Mhmm." She hummed, taking a sip of the wine. He noticed her shiver, and removed his suit jacket wrapping it around her shoulders. She looked up at him then, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Careful Malfoy, someone might accidentally mistake you for a gentleman."
Scorpius smirked, but made no reply. They stood in silence for a moment, sipping their wine and gazing out over the valley. Suddenly he turned to her, a sober expression on his face.
"Rose are you alright?" He asked seriously.
"I'm fine," she answered instantly, and rather robotically. She must have been asked that a lot lately, making her quick emotionless response all the more practiced.
"No you're not." Scorpius' tone was flat, as he continued to stare at her intensely. It was unarming, and Rose's flight bells started to resound in her head. Time to go.
"Really, I'm fine," She said offering a weak smile as she turned back towards the ballroom.
"Everyone around you seems to have settled into a pattern of bored complacency with your sudden mood change, and it bothers me." This gave her pause as she looked back at him. "I've heard all of the made up rumors you know."
"Rumors?" It was no surprise to Rose. She knew she was being gossiped about. Scorpius nodded,
"Some presume that a mysterious summer boyfriend broke your heart, and that's why you've been sulking about the castle."
"Oh really?" She sounded bored.
"Mhmm. But that rumor I immediately dismissed."
"Oh? Why's that?" Dare he hope… was that a little spark behind her dead eyes just then?
"The Rose Weasley I know would never succumb to the basic girly frivolity of pouting over a lost love affair." Rose's eyebrows rose slightly at his appraisal, a glimmer of a smirk behind them.
"I wonder, Malfoy, does that statement derive from some preconceived notion that I'm emotionless? Like some kind of heartless ice queen? Or maybe perhaps you presume the unlikelihood of my being able to snag a summer beau in the first place."
"Neither actually." He smirked right back, "Are you always so severe on yourself? You must think my opinion of you is very little if those are the only two conclusions you could draw from my statement." She lifted her chin a little higher, obviously not so easily convinced, so he powered on, " I meant exactly what I said. Not that you are incapable of deep, meaningful emotions…clearly you are, for something, though I don't know what, has turned your world upside down." Rose frowned at this, feeling increasingly too vulnerable under his even gaze, "All I meant to announce, was simply that the first rumor I heard carried no weight, because your self worth is not, nor ever has been tied to what other people think of you. The girls that swing into deep depressional funks over a breakup are the sort that don't know how to exist beyond the attentions of a male they fancy. And that Rose, dear, is just not you."Her eyes widened further at his admission. "And as for that last bit about not being able to snag a summer boyfriend… well clearly you're just fishing for a compliment so here it is; just look at you, they must line up in droves just so you can knock them over." Her eyes widened and she mentally cursed herself. Subconsciously she might have actually been seeking out a flattering remark, and the little bastard saw right through it. Her cheeks began to glow and she cursed herself again. He carried on with his assessment,
"Now, there were quite a few more rumors milling about, each one more outlandish than the first. I'm sure I am correct in assuming that you are currently not addicted to muggle drugs, and that you have in fact not joined a cult, gang, or dark magic sect. And you've lost too much weight for people to carry on with the pregnancy rumors."
"Bloody hell, people need to get lives." Rose scowled, looking at the ground. She had heard and seen people point and whisper, but she was far too caught up in her own problems to seek out what it was they were actually saying.
"My favorite had to of been that you were sleeping with a married man who called it off after his wife found out."
At this Rose froze. "Some….Someone said that?" Scorpius instantly regretted informing her of that rumor as he saw a pang of deep hurt behind her eyes.
"It's all rubbish Rose, you needn't think twice about it."
"I would never do that," she said resolutely the bitterness in her voice just a little too raw.
"But the others are all still on the table?" Scorpius questioned. She didn't seem to notice his aside. She was nearly shaking in indignant anger. Something about that last one clearly struck a cord. She paced back over to the railing next to him, and downed her glass of wine.
"Rose?" Scorpius asked softly. He was ignored, as she was suddenly a million miles away deep in her own thoughts.
Scorpius was an extremely observant, curious and intelligent young man. And in a flash of rapidly succeeding memories it all started to click into place.
Memories from a few months ago before classes started, when he was at the ministry with his father. He had watched Rose scream at her dad from afar as Ron pulled her into his office and slammed the door shut. Scorpius scowled, as a ravenous itch in the back of his mind told him that this memory was the key.
It had to do with her father.
Perhaps he was hurting her? But no, that couldn't make sense, Rose wasn't the type to ever take any sort of abuse. She had been angry… no, furious with him. And he had been trying to quiet her down, looking about to see who was present for her tirade, before pulling her away from the public eye.
That had to be it. Rose was incredibly angry with her Father for something. Something he obviously did not want to get out. His insatiable curiosity got the best of him again as he blurted aloud,
"Why are you so mad at your Father?" This broke immediately through Rose's contemplation, as she stared at him with wide horror filled eyes.
Well, that was obviously the source.
"Wh..what?" she asked, alarm showing itself in her features.
"You have to tell me what's going on, Rose. Maybe I can help?" She started shaking her head from side to side, before she said,
"No. You can't, I can't…" She suddenly looked so bitter. She was instantly angry. Picking up the wine bottle, she drained the remaining glass's worth that was left, drinking straight from the neck. "He's such a prick." She spat.
"Your dad?" Scorpius clarified. She simply nodded as she took another long swig from the bottle.
"What did he do?" He asked softly, knowing she wouldn't answer.
"That, Malfoy, is really none of your damn business." She stated matter-o-factly. However her tone held no malice. She wasn't mad at him after all.
Once the bottle was empty, she grasped the neck like it was a muggle bat, and swung it at the wine glass. It shattered in mid-air as it flew over the railing of the terrace and down into the deep valley below. She followed suit with his empty glass as well. Scorpius pulled out his wand, as he picked two rocks up off the ground, with a quick flick of his wrist he transfigured them both into additional wine glasses.
Her surprise was only momentary, before she successfully smashed those two clean off the banister as well. No sooner was she done, she realized he had transfigured three more glasses. She smashed them in rapid succession, the pieces falling like glitter down into the valley. Once finished she set down the bottle, breathing heavily as her shoulders slightly shook.
"Feel better?" He asked dryly.
"Slightly." Her eyes snapped up to his, and for the briefest of moments, a small glimmer of the old Rose shone through, as a smile played at the corner of her lips.
"Do you want to get out of here?" He invited casually. Rose seemed to weigh the offer in her mind, a cryptic look upon her face. When a few moments passed with out a response, Scorpius added, "It's a simple question Rose. With either a 'yes' response or a 'no' response. You're not going to hurt my feelings if you decide to stay."
"It wouldn't hurt your feelings at all?" she smirked playfully. Dear Merlin, is Rose Weasley flirting with me? Scorpius wondered.
"Not one bit." He lied, the smile in his eyes betraying him.
"Where would we go?" He knew that this question would make or break her answer. If he took her someplace that didn't intrigue her, she would say no. They could easily pop over to the Leaky Cauldron, but something told him she wouldn't want to go anywhere they would run into people they knew. So that was out. Really any of the well known wizarding pubs were out. It was Saturday night over holiday break. They would likely all contain some one they knew. He couldn't very well take her to the seedier joints down knockturn alley. Perhaps Muggle London then?
"I know this little muggle pub, the Three Stags? It's a neighborhood type place, sort of out of the way." She thought for a moment,
"Is the food good?"
"Fantastic."
"I have to be honest with you Scorpius: The main reason I'm even considering leaving with you, is because I know it will infuriate my father." Her words stung a little, but he would take what he could get.
"I see. Well then dear Rose, I think it's only fair that I admit, that I only invited you to get you pissed off your arse, so you would shag me tonight." Her eyebrows flew up at this, but she quickly composed her face back to bored complacency. Obviously he was just joking to get a rise out of her…right?
"Then we agree to mutually use each other." She challenged holding her hand out for a shake.
He smiled at her wickedly, and Rose was instantly transfixed on his mouth,
"Alright then," He grasped her small hand in his and made a firm shake. His hand lingered, which did not escape her notice. She pulled her hand away as she scolded herself for the momentary flutter in her stomach. Surely he was just continuing with his rouse, putting her on in order to get some type of rise from the Gryffindor consummate prude princess. She knew what they all called her behind her back. Having never really had a proper boyfriend, she supposed in some respects it was all true.
"Lets go get your robe."
"Mind if we say goodbye to my Father?" Her eyes were all innocence but her smile pure poison.
Once in the ballroom, Rose grabbed Scorpius' hand, interlocked fingers and all, and marched right up to her father.
"I'm leaving, I'll be home late, don't wait up." The half sloppy drunk ginger ego monster that was her father took one look at her escort and their joined hands, and went rigid as his eyes were overcome with rage. Hermione, completely oblivious, waved her hand as she took another sip of champagne,
"Okay Dear. Scorpius try to have her home by two, won't you?" She smiled up at the handsome young man.
"Of course Mrs. Weasley." Scorpius flashed a stunning smile.
"Where are you going?" She asked, half out of curiosity, and half because that's what good mothers are suppose to do.
"The Three Stags, it's a muggle pub in London," Scorpius replied. Finally Ron spoke,
"I thought your lot didn't set foot in muggle establishments." He spat.
"My 'lot' sir?" Scorpius feigned ignorance.
"Goodnight." Rose dismissed her father icily sensing a tantrum coming on, and tugged Scorpius towards the exit.
"Now hold on just one damn minuet!" Ron followed them through the crowd. Rose picked up her pace. Once out in the entryway, Rose accioed her robe. Scorpius saw that her hands were shaking slightly. Sliding his jacket from her shoulders he helped her put on her fur lined winter robe. "I forbid you to go anywhere with that boy!" Ron's face was nearly purple.
"I don't really give a fuck!" Rose huffed. Suddenly Ron grabbed Scorpius by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
"If you touch her, so help me, I will KILL you!" Ron screamed, inches from Scorpius' face.
"Ron!" Rose turned to see her uncle, Harry Potter, storming towards them. Cue the Calvary music. He pulled his friend off the young man. Scorpius straightened his tie as Harry attempted to pull a seething Ron into a side room. "Just go on you two, I'll talk to him," Harry reassured.
"Are you okay?" Rose asked Scorpius as she once again grabbed his hand.
"I'm fine…so he really hates me. No wonder you agreed to go."
"Do you not want to go now?" She asked, her voice indifferent, but her face falling. Scorpius shot her a devious grin. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her flush with him. "What are you doing?" She screeched.
"We agreed to mutually use each other…my responsibility has just now been met, but yours, Rose darling, is pending. I intend to collect." Her eyes widened, as he pulled out his wand. With a careful flick, they vanished from the hallway.
(To be cont.)