QLFC Round 12
Kenmare Kestrels
Beater 2
Prompt: Write a story about your OTP that has an unhappy ending.
Optional Prompts: 1) control 5) "It had happened again." 10) instinct
Word Count: 1759
BETAs: Sanchita (Queen Bookworm the First) and Ari
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It had happened again. Scorpius had allowed himself to risk a glance her way. He immediately regretted it, having spent many an hour assembling mental barriers with the intent to keep his wandering gaze to himself. She stole the breath from his lungs, a sharp twinge in his heart and a roiling excitement in his stomach that made him feel as if he was walking on air.
Rose Granger-Weasley, he thought to himself with a smile. The authoritative way she had proclaimed it to practically everyone she met. The crowds of admirers and friends that clustered around her in the halls, begging to be recognized by Her Most High. Her confident, cheeky smile when she scored a goal in Quidditch or aced a test that the rest of the class failed.
Everything about Rose Granger-Weasley was remarkable, a shining diamond that gleamed in the never-ceasing spotlight of Hogwarts. But Scorpius? Perhaps he was a diamond in the rough. No, compared to Rose Granger-Weasley, he was a pebble. A very nice pebble nonetheless, but who looks at a pebble when you have your pick of the diamonds in the world?
Albus does. Albus had the uncanny skill of seeing the good in people, a skill that Scorpius admired. He could be quick to judge, but when it came to his muse, Rose Granger-Weasley, he was all but blinded.
"She's wearing her hair differently today," Scorpius noted, craning his neck to see over the mammoth figure of Wilson Belby. "It looks good."
"Have you sent out the wedding invitations yet?" Albus groused over a piece of toast. Scorpius speared a sausage with his fork and waved it at his friend with an admonishing air. Small drops of sausage grease peppered the table as he lectured Albus.
"Very funny, Al. If you must know, I think I'm going to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend. However, I need to be prepared to ask her." With a flourish, he tugged a notebook out of a pocket in his robes and handed it to Albus. Rolling his eyes, Albus opened the small cover and flipped through a few of the pages.
"You have a diagram of what to say in every conceivable situation. What a nerd." Albus mimed a scowl, although his eyes betrayed a smile.
"Go ahead, test me." Scorpius crossed his arms and mustered up his courage. "Rose Granger-Weasley, would you deign it that I would go to Hogsmeade with you?"
Albus flipped back a few pages in the notebook, which were packed with cramped, tightly lettered handwriting. "Okay, let's go with the option: No, you utter fool! I would rather kiss the giant squid than be forced to face you for more than a minute at a time! You repel me!"
Unshaken, Scorpius smiled. "Ah, that's Result 2.E: Complete and Utter Rejection. Then I go, All right, Rose, I understand. I hope you have a good time!"
"Word for word," Albus noted, "but it's not going to get you a date."
"What do you mean? I've graphed all of her possible responses in that book! One of my plans ought to work!"
"How about this one, where I duel with you in the halls and you triumph over me, to win Rose's heart forever? Or, option 11.B says that you are 'injured' in the duel and taken to the hospital wing, where Rose will—what's Florence Nightingale syndrome?"
"Nothing, nothing." Scorpius recovered hastily. "Like I was saying, if I fail one way, I'll just cross it off the list and ask her the next Hogsmeade trip."
Shaking his head. Albus perused the last few pages of the book. "Scorpius, by the time you've finished all of these you'll be what, fifty-seven years old?"
"Fifty-six, but it'll be worth it." Scorpius sighed, twisting in his seat to catch sight of Rose at the Gryffindor table. Her bouncing curls flashed into his vision for a second and his heart leaped. Behind his back, Albus mimed vomiting onto his tower of toast.
"Well, when are you going to pop the question?"
Turning back reluctantly, Scorpius snatched the notebook from Albus and shoved it back into his pocket. "After Potions. She's rather good at Potions, so she'll be in a good mood when I ask her. I've got it all thought out." He tapped his temple with a finger, a giddy grin tugging at his lips.
"The Sorting Hat must have been Confunded to not put you in Ravenclaw. This is the most stupidly brilliant thing I've ever heard," Albus commended him, patting his shoulder.
"Thanks… I think."
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All throughout Potions Scorpius' heart had been pounding with nerves. He had forced himself to keep his head bent over his smoking cauldron, keeping his eyes fixed on A One-Year Guide to Intermediate Potion-Making Mastery, as he balanced out the essence of lost-hope and powdered babirusa tusk. His unswerving control and attention to his work earned him the highest mark he had earned in Potions yet—he was usually so preoccupied with staring at Rose that he dropped in too many ingredients by accident. When class was dismissed Rose was immediately enveloped in the swell of students pushing out the door, and Scorpius struggled to catch up to her.
"Rose! Hey, Rose!" he called after her retreating form, and she turned to face him. At once she dropped her gaze and edged back towards her friends, looking uncomfortable.
"Oh, hey, Scorpius…" she muttered. "Do you need something?"
Scorpius' heart sank, but he kept a bright smile plastered on his face. Option 5.1 was a go. "Hi, Rose. I've been meaning to ask you if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend."
A few giggles sounded in the crowd that had gathered around the two. Face darkening, Rose snatched Scorpius' hand in her own and started to drag him away from the students, who hooted and hollered after them. Scorpius nearly fainted on the spot—Rose Granger-Weasley, Quidditch goddess, top of the class, and the love of his life was holding his hand?
"We need to talk," she growled, pulling Scorpius into an empty classroom and practically throwing him against a desk. He stumbled backwards and was met with her piercing glare as she stalked towards him, eyes burning with anger and shame.
"I can't believe you made a fool of me like that in the hallway, Scorpius!" she cried, and Scorpius looked down at his shoes. They were very nice shoes; perhaps he would stare at them for a little longer.
It was ironic, really. He could never stop staring at Rose, and now he couldn't meet her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to know if—"
"I heard you just fine the first time."
"Oh. Yes. Right."
Rose threw her hands into the air, starting to pace in front of Scorpius. "Don't you get it? I'm Rose Granger-Weasley, and you're, well…"
This particular comment stung, and Scorpius recoiled. "I'm what?"
"What I mean to say is, it wouldn't be respectable if a Granger-Weasley went to Hogsmeade with a Malfoy."
Scorpius took a step forward, trying to ease a smile back onto his face. All of the diligent notes in his little book were gone now, replaced with a burning mixture of hope and anger. "I don't care about being respectable, Rose. I really like your personality and want to spend some more time with you—that's all. What's unrespectable about that?"
"You don't get it." Rose practically sneered. "My parents were heroes, so people expect me to be a hero, too. They want me to be clever like Mum and good at Quidditch like Dad, and I'm constantly being tugged in every direction by their expectations. I have to live up to those expectations, Scorpius, or I'll be seen as a failure. Don't you get that?"
Risking another step forward, Scorpius reached forward and took one of Rose's hands in his own. She stiffened but didn't pull away, and he wondered if she could feel his pounding pulse, the anxiety and excitement that pumped through his veins. "I don't want to go to Hogsmeade with Mr. and Mrs. Granger-Weasley, Rose." He took a deep breath, meeting Rose's gaze. "I want to go to Hogsmeade with you, and you alone," he finished with a smile, and Rose looked up at him, eyes softening slightly. His heart soared, and he wondered if he had a chance…
Then her expression hardened and she pulled her hand out of his, shoving it into her pocket. "Scorpius, I don't want to hear the rumors. I'm me and you're, well…"
"I'm what?" Scorpius yelled, and Rose flinched. "You can go ahead and say it, Rose. Everyone still thinks I'm the son of Voldemort? You don't want to be seen with an abomination like me? Oh-so-perfect Rose Granger-Weasley, who's too occupied with her image to actually have some fun for once, to spend time with someone who cares about who she is. I don't want to copy your homework or babble about Quidditch, Rose. I don't want to talk about class rank or the last Transfiguration lesson. I just wanted to get to know you better, but you don't want your golden self to be tarnished by me, do you?"
"Maybe I don't!" Rose exclaimed, grabbing the doorknob and swinging the door open with such force it collided with the wall in a magnificent bang! "Maybe I don't, Scorpius. So don't think about asking me again, okay?"
In a swirl of black and crimson she stormed from the room, her form knotted with tension and radiating anger. Scorpius bit back a curse as she walked away, then buried his head in his hands. His one chance to go on a date with Rose Granger-Weasley, ruined.
Hands trembling with anger, he pulled the notebook out of his pocket. Instinct took over and he whipped out his wand, burning the pages into a small pile of ashes on the floor. The sudden violence filled him with a moment of intense pleasure that faded almost as quickly as it came.
As he turned to the door his mind was already wandering to the next Hogsmeade visit, when he would ask her again, but he paused.
Maybe he wouldn't pursue Rose Granger-Weasley, as wonderful and remarkable as she seemed. Because, just for a few minutes, he had really gotten to know her.
And he hadn't liked what he had seen.
