A/N: Yes, Thanksgiving is an exclusively American holiday, but this is for any Scorose shippers out there, especially those who do celebrate Thanksgiving. I mean, what day isn't a great day for Scorose? Hope you enjoy!


Rose leaned her head back, resting it against the wooden post of the gazebo she sat in. Flowers of every kind wound up and around each pillar, all tended lovingly by Ron and Hermione Weasley. She exhaled, looking around. The trees had already begun to shed their leaves; it was, after all, nearly December, and winter would be coming soon. She heaved another sigh and closed her eyes, wishing she could be inside, helping with the Thanksgiving dinner preparations, but she had been kicked out after yet another chaotic fight with Scorpius Malfoy. Not for the first time, she fervently wished that Astoria and Draco hadn't taken off for a Thanksgiving vacation and dropped their beloved soon at Weasley Manor.

"Why the great sigh?" drawled a familiar voice, almost as though the owner had been summoned by the mere thought of himself.

"You're here," explained Rose, not even bothering to open her eyes. "Isn't that enough cause for distress?"

"I know you've been pining after me for years, but really, there's no need to worry over whether or not you're capable of capturing my heart," Scorpius assured her with what she knew was a smirk.

"You're insufferable, Malfoy," she told him, her voice lacking any of its usual heat.

"Scorpius," he corrected her absently.

Rose's eyes popped open at this.

"'Scuse you?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "Did you just tell me to call you by your first name? Is this a display of humanity from Scorpius Malfoy?"

"I know. What with my devilishly good looks, I'm hardly human," agreed Scorpius amiably. "Anyway, Rose, it isn't like I've not invited you to call me by my name before."

"Malfoy's your name," objected Rose, "just as Weasley's mine. Why, again, aren't you calling me Weasley? It's alarming."

"There are far too many of you to just call you Weasley. I've made that mistake before, and it's been rather embarrassing," pointed out Scorpius, arching an eyebrow ever so aristocratically.

"Don't pull the whole peasant breeding thing. If you do, Al's liable to strangle you," Rose warned him, her blue eyes flashing.

Scorpius wrinkled his handsome nose. Entirely against her will, Rose found herself zeroing in on the movement. She gave herself a very firm slap and shake. So he's got a handsome nose...and face...and everything. Doesn't mean anything, she told herself, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and sinking her teeth into it.

"You're just as rich as I am, if not more so. Not like the War exactly left your family bereft as it did mine," snorted Scorpius. "Oh, and Rose, don't bite your lip. It's very distracting."

Rose blinked at him, and he blinked back, his surprise mirroring her own. Perhaps she was simply projecting, however. She pointedly continued biting her lip, and Scorpius glared at the offending mouth.

"Mm," she replied.

Scorpius scowled, still staring at Rose's mouth, and Rose felt triumph.

"You know what I'm thankful for this fine Thanksgiving day?" he began, his gray eyes flicking up to meet Rose's blue ones. "Well, do you?"

"Mm-mm," responded Rose, shaking her head.

"You-that is, not looking like you," continued Scorpius, stiffening at his own words and opening his mouth to say something else.

Rose stopped chewing her lip, narrowing her eyes at him and speaking before he could.

"I thought we'd stopped the insulting of my ugly face and...well...everything else," she bit out, crossing her arms. "We did have an agreement, remember? If you resort to such insults and let your mental degeneracy show, I reserve the right to hex you to oblivion."

Her wand grew warm in her pocket, responding to her internalized anger, and she patted it gratefully. It was her one reliable friend, it seemed. Scorpius, however, had the grace to look ashamed.

"I really am sorry, Rose," he muttered. "I can't handle...this...and I keep backsliding. Hex me if you want. I deserve it."

Any other witch would have taken pity on Scorpius at this given moment; after all, he did seem to be struggling with a deep confusion. Rose was not any other witch. Rising to her feet and pulling out her wand, she grinned and cast upon him her mother's infamous Bat-Bogey Hex.

"Mwahaha," she declared. "I have vanquished thee."

Scorpius couldn't speak around the bogey bats flying out of his nose. When he finally recovered, he gave Rose a sullen look, and she grinned back.

"I deserved it," he sighed.

"You did," agreed Rose with a nod. "Hey, Scorpius?"

"Yes, Rose?"

"Know what I'm thankful for, Scorpius?"

"No, Rose."

"The fact that you're being nice to me," she told him truthfully. "Our arguments are fun and all, but the insults never really were. It's pleasant to not have to cry into my pillow at night anymore."

Scorpius's eyes popped wide open.

"You...agh...you what?" he sputtered.

"Yes, I did cry into my pillow, and nobody but you knows because I used a Silencing Charm. I'll say it now, even if you're going to use it as ammunition in the future," admitted Rose calmly. "I thought it would perhaps be best if you knew the consequences of your actions. If you really are the proper human being you're acting like, it would be worse than several hexes. It's why I only hexed you once today."

"Oh," Scorpius finally managed, not quite meeting her gaze. "I...Rose, I know it's not going to make up for anything, but I really, truly am sorry. I'd always thought you were unbreakable, that you never cried once, and that bothered me. You always did, with your brilliant smile and laugh and hair and face and... I don't know why, but it did. I wanted to see how far it could go until you broke, but I never really wanted to...to hurt you."

Rose went still for a moment, staring at Scorpius with round eyes.

"Erm...did you just compliment me?" she asked, squirming uncomfortably. "Genuinely?"

Scorpius blinked.

"Yeah, I s'pose I did," he replied, crinkling his brow.

Rose took a deep breath.

"Well, it's only fair that I be sincere with you, then, even though I never once insulted your looks," she sighed. "I always was bothered by your infernal smirk and unfair looks, but it was mostly due to the fact that you seemed to know it. It was all so very infuriating."

Scorpius regarded her carefully, and Rose regarded him carefully right back. He looked to be preparing to say something important.

"Hey, Rose?"

"Yes, Scorpius?"

"Know what I'm really thankful for, Rose?"

"No, Scorpius."

"You."

Scorpius smiled hopefully at her, a genuine smile and not one of those plastic smirks he strutted around with.

"Me, too. I'm thankful for me," Rose laughed, beaming at him, "but I'm also thankful for you."

It was all so wonderful and beautiful and chokingly cliché, but Rose leaned in and so did Scorpius and they met halfway. There was a bit of awkward bumping of faces, mostly from Rose, but they eventually found each other's lips. It wasn't perfect or passionately heated, nor was it precisely the natural thing Rose had imagined. Rather, it was somewhat shy and hesitant and a tiny bit frightening, neither of them entirely sure where it was appropriate to places one's hands. Rose later realized that they had moved, because her back was pressed up against a wooden pole and Scorpius's hands were very suddenly running through her hair and undoing her tightly done braid. Every so often, Rose had to pull back slightly for breath, and Scorpius was a perfect gentleman about it, waiting for her to inhale enough oxygen to survive. Neither one knew how much time had passed, but they leapt apart as soon as the sound of the manor door opening reached their ears.

"Are you three-year-olds ready to stop your bickering?" called Hermione from the manor, not bothering to wend her way through her forest-like rose garden. "I hope so, because we could use a few extra hands."

Scorpius cleared his throat, grinning at Rose.

"Absolutely, Dr. Weasley," he answered loudly. "We have...made up and are ready to assist you."

"Good. Come back in when you're ready," Hermione told them. "Oh, and Scorpius, please do call me Hermione."

The manor door shut loudly. Rose glanced up at Scorpius, still slightly in shock, and her hand came up to brush her lips. He chuckled, looking a bit dazed. His eyes shone more brightly than usual, his ordinarily neat hair was mussed, and his cheeks were flushed.

"Do I look all that awful?" he asked, a faint nervous tremor in his voice.

"Not at all," Rose assured him quickly. "Just a bit...mussed, that's it. What about me?"

"Your hair is down-which looks fantastic, by the way-and your cheeks are all pink. I don't know how well we'll be able to fly under parent radar, if at all," admitted Scorpius sheepishly. "Even if we looked normal, we wouldn't act normal. Probably going to be sharing looks and brushing hands and all that cloying stuff."

Rose chewed on her lip in thoughtful contemplation.

"Have you ever dated a girl before, Scorpius?" she inquired curiously. "You know, for more than one Hogsmeade day."

"Never had an actual girlfriend, no," exhaled Scorpius. "That...er...may change."

"Do you want it to?" asked Rose quietly, shyly.

"I wouldn't mind if it did," replied Scorpius, a dopey grin spreading across his face. "Wouldn't mind at all."

"Good. You're my boyfriend, then," she declared briskly. "Why not break it to the family over supper?"

"Brilliant plan," concurred Scorpius.

So it was that later that evening, when they went through with the said plan, only Ron was shocked. Rose sighed and closed her eyes as her father choked on his pumpkin juice, proceeding to go purple in the face and rant on and on about how no daughter of his would date, much less a Malfoy, until she was at the very least sixty, to which Hermione calmly responded that she wanted sets of granddaughters from Rose and would hex Ron if he became the reason that this did not happen. The threat effectively calmed him down, though he did not by any means stop shooting Scorpius threatening looks every five minutes.

All in all, it was a fantastic Thanksgiving.