Scorpius Malfoy was pretty used to women throwing themselves at him.
He was, after all, one of the most attractive men he knew, something the wizarding world strongly agreed with (He and Al were on their third year of competing for the title of Britain's Sexiest Wizard of the Year). He was a star Quidditch player, and the owner of a successful potion supply business. There was never any lack of female attention surrounding him. Even in Hogwarts there had been plenty of witches, many of them older than him, willing to risk the reputation of his family name and spend the darkest hours of the night tucked away in secret alcoves with him. The attention had only increased as he entered adulthood and joined the Falmouth Falcons. The white and dark grey robes did something to his blond hair and grey eyes that seemed to mystify women better than any love potion. Plus, Scorpius's habit of playing with finesse and elegance among his brutal team mates had rapidly become the number one reason for damp kickers among female Quidditch fans nationwide. This only got more intense when he was chosen as a Beater for and International Team. It was about that point that women began throwing themselves at him on a global scale. He'd received owls from as far away as Australia and Timbuktu. There'd been everything from offers of quickies behind medical tents to demands of marriage. And, alright, the attention made him a flirt. And a serial dater. And some would even venture far enough to say he was a womanizer. All those allegations were founded on good, strong bases. Yes, he could agree with all of them. But they weren't his fault. It was only natural to switch from woman to woman when there were so many ready to go a round. Which sounded back when he thought about it, but luckily, he was very good at not thinking about it.
The point was, Scorpius Malfoy was exceptionally good at handling a situation in which a woman threw herself at him. However, he was most definitely not prepared for the physical assault launched by one very drunk Rose Weasley.
In fact, he was so unprepared that he didn't fully grasp what was happening until Rose Weasley herself landed in his arms. He caught her more out of self defense than anything. He wasn't even looking her way when she came hurtling towards him. All he had time to absorb was a flash of bright red and then she was crashing into him. The impact nearly brought him to the floor. It took all he had to brace himself and cradle the very female body against his without breaking her. And then, and only then, did he realize that he was holding his most hated enemy.
His first thought was, of course, that Rose had bumped into him quite by accident and that he should send her on her merry way with a stinging insult and possibly a stinking jinx. But before he could think up a really good one, it became glaringly obvious that she was in fact looking for him.
"YOU," she slurred rather charmingly, "ARE RUINING MY LIFE FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!"
Scorpius coughed once. Then twice. Then he shifted his arms. But Rose seemed quite content to stay right where she was and yell at him.
"YOU, SCORPIUS MALFOY, ARE THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE! I HATE YOU! I LOATH THE GROUND YOU WALK ON!"
Scorpius gave up on being polite. He gracefully tossed Rose off him and onto the nearest bar stool, thanking his lucky stars and any deity listening that the bar (okay, so it was more of a nightclub type thing) was loud enough to mask Rose's deranged screaming. She continued said screaming as he calmly ordered himself the strongest possible drink from the bartender. Then, and only then, did Scorpius turn around and try to listen to Rose's rant.
"-AND FURTHERMORE, YOUR DISGUSTING FACE IS THE ONLY THING I EVER HEAR ABOUT! I CAN'T EVEN ESCAPE YOU IN MY OWN HOME?!"
Scorpius motioned to the bartender to leave the bottle.
"PLUS, YOU'VE RUINED MY CAREER! MY MANAGER SAYS I'M OUT OF A JOB IF I CAN'T GET YOU TO ENDORSE OUR FUCKING POTIONS WHICH OF COURSE YOU WON'T DO BECAUSE YOU HAVE MORALS ABOUT SAFETY MEASURES REGARDING POTIONS AND THE SPORTS INDUSTRY!"
Scorpius took a hefty sip and waited for the next round of screaming. But Rose, it seemed, was screamed out. She grabbed the very expensive bottle of top shelf liquor by the neck and took a ginormous gulp. Then she stared at Scorpius like she was expecting him to do something about it. So he did.
First, he pried the bottle out of her fingers (no small feat, mind you. The witch had a grip of steel when it came to alcohol), then he leaned in close enough to be heard without shouting, "What the bloody fuck are you talking about, Weasel Queen?"
Rose kind of wavered back and forth on her stool, with a hand raised and a finger pointing towards Scorpius. Just when he thought she was going to pass out, she leaned too far forwards and poked him hard in the chest, still shouting, "WELL! For one, your business morals are really fucking me over. And the fact that my boss is obsessed with you is fucking me five ways from Friday. And Lily's fucking fangirl crush on you is fucking me up the ass, too!"
Normally, Scorpius tried very hard not to think the words 'Rose' and 'fucking' in the same sentence. It typically led to dangerous waters for him. Waters in which all the blood in his head mysteriously left and went on a southern vacation. Waters in which he woke up from some very vivid dreams that his waking self considered vaguely disturbing. So no, Scorpius did not particularly enjoy combining Rose's name and any variation of the word 'fuck'.
But who was he to ignore Rose when she was talking? If she wanted to remind him several ways in which the word could be used, who was he to stop her? Plus, it didn't hurt that her damn dress hugged every curve she had.
And so, Scorpius sat at the bar and stared determinedly at the ceiling while Rose leaned far enough forward that Scorpius could see some very interesting bits of her if he so chose while she poked him in the chest and slurred on and on about how everything was his fault. In fact, he got so comfortable staring at the ceiling that he didn't notice the first time the bartender coughed. He didn't notice the second time either. But by the third time, Rose had abruptly shut up, so he heard the poor man quite clearly when he awkwardly cleared his throat.
When Scorpius turned his head and raised an eyebrow, the man uncomfortably looked at Rose out of the corner of his eye. Scorpius turned his head to the side to see that Rose had slumped right over onto the bar.
Dear Merlin, he should have taken that bottle away earlier. Now she's going to die of alcohol poisoning and her ghost will come back and haunt him and he'll never hear the end of it.
Scorpius was afraid of few things, but the thought of Rose Weasley's ghost haunting him forever stuck a definite note of terror in his soul. But just when he was resigning himself to a life of semi-visible Rose following him around, the woman herself gave a low groan and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "I'm going to vomit."
Or that's what Scorpius thought, "Ermgoonavermont," meant. Either way, he had to distance himself from her immediately. He stood up to do so, and considered leaving. But sadly, the bartender caught his eye and gave him a stern look. Scorpius had to admit that leaving a drunk Rose Weasley alone at a bar full of men with dubious intentions was an act too villainous, even for him. So, with a sigh, he scooped her up, plopped her on her own two feet, and wrapped a loose arm around her waist to drag her towards the Apparition point.
Scorpius Malfoy was covered in vomit when he set his two feet on the floor of his entrance. He was furious.
Rose Weasley had not a spec of semi-digested food anywhere on her. She was still morbidly drunk.
The second Scorpius had Rose settled firmly on solid ground, he ran for the bathroom, stripping off his shirt as he went. There was semi-digested pineapple on his fucking clothes. And what he prayed was spaghetti in his hair. His hair! He'd never been so disgusted in his life. What is Merlin's name had made him think that taking an obscenely drunk woman somewhere using Apparition was a good idea? The wench had even said she was feeling nauseous!
Scorpius stuck his head under the faucet in the sink of his bathroom and turned it on full blast. Then he prayed to anyone listening that water would be enough to force the slimy noodles out of his hair because Merlin knew he wasn't touching that shit with his actual hands.
Just when Scorpius was contemplating burning his hair off and starting anew, he noticed a pair of small, bare feet next to his sink. Without turning the water off, he turned his head and glared at Rose Weasley, growling, "What the bloody fuck do you think you're looking at, Weasel Wench?"
Rose tilted her own head to the side and grouched, "This is what I'm fucking talking about! Lily goes on and on about how great you look without a shirt on and just when I manage to convince myself she's blowing smoke, I see this and know that she's right! How is this even fair?! No one should be allowed to have a body like that when they already have such a pretty face! It isn't right!"
Scorpius physically could not stop the smirk. It seemed to aggravate Rose even more.
"Seriously? The smirk?! Is there anything you can't pull off?!"
Scorpius turned off the faucet and faced Rose head on, arms crossed, wet hair pushed back, and excess water dripping down his torso. Rose was practically livid.
"Oh, Merlin's old bent dick, now you're just trying to be awful! This is all the more proof that you're deliberately trying to destroy my life!"
Scorpius raised an eyebrow and be the least amount of condescending possible, "Remind me, love, how exactly I'm doing that?"
Rose paused. She raised a hand. She flapped it up and down a few times like a mellow dramatic teenager or a sassy housewife, "Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Where to start. First off, I'm gonna need a glass of wine or vodka for this or something, because this is a doozy of a story. You will not believe the shit I have to go through because of you!"
And with that, she turned on her heel and flounced off in the direction of the living room. Scorpius heard her bump into what sounded like the wall of his hallway, the couch, and he listened with a wince to the sounds of glass shattering. That was most likely the crystal goblet his aunt Daphne had given him. It was horrendously ugly, and would be a fantastic mess to clean up.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S CRUSTY LEFT TESTICLE GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO CUT ME?"
It seemed Rose was helping clean up the crystal. With her bare feet.
Scorpius sighed and wandered out to the living room to see Rose sitting next to a tidy pile of shards, glaring at them. It took everything in him to not laugh. As it was, he managed to pass a few chuckles off as coughs as he levitated the shards to the garbage and took a seat on the couch. He motioned to Rose to sit beside him, but she remained on the floor.
"Weasley, why're you sitting on your arse in the middle of my living room when there's a perfectly good couch not two feet away?"
"I would move but your stupid cup thing cut my foot and it hurts!" She crossed her arms and glared at her foot and the garbage where the crystal has disappeared. Her hair kind of fell in front of her eyes and she most definitely stuck her bottom lip out.
It was fucking adorable in a weird kind of way.
Something in Scorpius's soul shifted and since when had he given himself permission to find anything Rose did adorable?
But he did. She was sitting on his floor, glaring and cradling her foot, and looking goddamn adorable doing it. And when he snorted, she looked up at him like a lost puppy and if he wasn't quite mistaken, tears (actual real tears) were gleaming there.
So, he did what any decent person would do in that sort of situation. He slid off the couch, knelt next to Rose, scooped her up, and set her on the couch. Then he sat next to her, pulled her feet into his lap, and murmured, "Here. Let me see."
Rose pouted, but let him maneuver her leg so he could see the bottom of her foot without completely exposing her knickers. Thankfully, there was only one large shard sticking out of the fleshy bit of her arch, and it was easily removed. Then, in what he could only describe as a moment of weakness, Scorpius gently kissed her foot and laid it back down across his knees, saying, "There. All better."
Rose sighed and nestled her head into the back of the couch. With a gargantuan yawn, she muttered, "You're still ruining my life."
"Oh, yes. You were going to tell me about that."
"Well, to start, my arsehole of a boss wants me to get you to endorse our product as a Quidditch player, and wants you to fund a new product. But of course, you're not an idiot, and you know the way Faulkner makes potions means harvesting too many plants and not restoring them. And it means black market deals for the rare ones. Plus, you also know that the majority of our products are illegal enhancers. And of course, you have morals about sports and potions. Merlin knows why. Those are the two weirdest things to have morals about."
"Not really. Sports should be honest, and it's just your business I hate. Keep in mind that I know your boss makes some unfortunate substitutions in his potions. Ones that are infinitesimally dangerous for witches and wizards."
"True. But either way, if I can't get one lousy endorsement from you, I'll lose my job. Never mind that I'm the best publicist they have. Never mind that I invented most of those potions. Never mind that my family funded the start up. Never mind that I told Faulkner that you wouldn't do it because of the morals thing," Rose threw her hands up in the air and let them fall back onto her lap in the most defeated manner Scorpius had ever seen.
Scorpius frowned, "Your boss is firing you for not getting one specific endorsement? I'm pretty sure that's illegal, Weasley."
"You would think so, but he's managed to spin it so that I look like the jealous girlfriend who wants the whole business. He gets everything when it comes down to it."
Scorpius frowned harder, "You're dating him?"
Rose scowled, "No! Not any more. We were when we started. But not anymore. Anyway. That's not the only way you're screwing things up for me. Lily is half in love with you. She has these posters of you all over the place and you're half-naked in most of them. And she will not shut up about you! She's even trying to convince Al to invite you over for the summer so she can, quote – unquote, 'seduce you with her wily charms'."
"And this is an issue because…?"
"Well obviously, she keeps telling me she saw you first and so she gets you, but I went to school with you for a whole year before her! Who does she think she is, calling dibs?!"
Scorpius froze so fast that he thought he might have locked something in his back. Granted, this wasn't the kind of confession he had dreamed about in seventh year (no, those confessions involved either a lot more or a lot less alcohol and far fewer clothes,) but it was still a confession. Of course, Rose was ridiculously drunk, so…
Oh, right. Rose was ridiculously drunk. She didn't know what she was saying. In fact, she'd already switched topics back to her godawful boss.
"-and he keeps threatening me with lawsuits. All because of your dumb face! He's convinced I have a thing for you or something. He's the most jealous man I've ever seen! What a prick."
Scorpius tried to casually ask, "Well, do you?"
"Do I what?" Rose's eyes were starting to droop closed, but Scorpius had to know, damnit.
"Do you have a thing for me?"
"Well of course I do!" his heart damn near stopped for a full minute as she yawned, "What red-blooded witch doesn't have a thing for you?! It's downright nauseating!"
With that, Rose snuggled right into the arm of Scorpius's couch and started snoring very loudly. Scorpius sat at the other end, with her feet on his lap (and his hand on her ankles? When did that happen?), stunned. He could hardly guess what Rose had been thinking, telling him she fancied him a bit.
Okay, to be fair, he did ask. So she was just answering. And she was drunk. And there was no way he was letting himself get worked up over this, even though Rose fucking Weasley just admitted to fancying him! But he was cool. This was okay. This was fine. He was fine. He wasn't flustered. What even was this flustered? He didn't know.
Rose tilted her head too far away from the back of the couch and almost feel off the whole thing. She let out a snort and a kind of strangled cough thing, and it was with that pseudo-hairball sound, Scorpius's heart and soul came crashing back into reality.
It wasn't real. Everyone knew that drunk people were honest about everything except love. Scorpius himself knew well that it was obscenely easy to lie about love while drunk. He'd accidentally given false hope to several fangirls while in a similar state of inebriation. So really, it would be unfair to hold Rose to her confession.
So, with a heavy heart and a frown, Scorpius shifted Rose's feet off his lap, put on his shoes, and maneuvered Rose to the fireplace. He tossed in a handful of Floo powder and said sadly, "Big Red's House!" (Rose really did have a knack for naming things).
He tucked her in under a blanket on her couch, gave her a kiss on the forehead (because even though he was a gentleman he couldn't fucking help himself, she looked so goddamn adorable), and left.
Once back at his flat, he sat himself down and wrote two letters that changed his life forever.