SCORROSE! YAYYY! so, obv.s, this is another rose-scorpius oneshot. It's supposed to be humorous, but... Yeah, forgive me if it's not. I'm not funny IRL, but for some reason I'm funny here...

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN A THING

enjoy!

Ticklish?

Right. So. Today's the day. The day I will finally complete my quest: find Rose Weasley's elusive tickle spot and tickle her until she can take it no longer.

I managed to catch Fred (II) at one of the (humongous) Weasley Gatherings and talk him into telling me where she is most ticklish. Since Rose has often complained about his numerous tickle wars with half of her cousins at the same time, I figured he would be able to help.

"Well," he whispered conspiratorially, "She has several. Her feet- most convenient to grab hold of, yet hardest to tickle; her sides- she's the most ticklish there, but it's hard to reach; And sometimes her lower back is ticklish, but I'm not too sure."

I nodded stiffly. I hadn't expected him to have this much information! "Right..." I said.

So, now I've decided to Floo to her flat, where I practically live.

Rose is a very bookish person. Although she was in Griffindor, she spent about half her time in the Room of Requirement, reading. She reads a variety of books, from muggle romance novels to ancient Wizarding textbooks on how to change your eye color. (Seriously! I found her reading a text on different hair types and colors and how that affected how people perceived you. It was very odd.) she also has strange places that she likes to read. I once found her reading upside down, hanging from a rafter in the room she'd created. I was afraid she would fall, but she assured me that she was perfectly fine and pointed out the layers of mattresses underneath her. How I did not notice them, Merlin and God only know.

I found her today in a relatively normal position: on her (I like to call it *our*) warm, dark red couch. She was spread across it with her head and back resting on the fluffy armrest. Her rich, auburn curls practically covered it, and her face was adorned with a peaceful smile. The book in her hands was Pride and Predjudice by Jane Austen.

After brushing off the soot from the Floo, I flopped down on the couch, grabbed her foot, and tried to tickle it.

It. Didn't. Work.

Rose's book slowly lowered and settled to her lap, exposing her beautiful coffee-colored eyes. Her brow raised, she asked, "What, exactly, are you doing, Scorpius?"

"Tickling you." I replied.

She sighed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes. "This has been going on for weeks now! When will you just accept that I don't have a tickle spot?"

"I will never accept that you don't have a tickle spot!" I scoffed.

She leaned forward, her book falling to the hardwood floor, and wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands, now on her waist, pulled her closer. Our kiss was breathtaking, as usual, a thousand Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs going off in our heads. She sat up and wrapped her legs around me as I pulled her onto my lap. Suddenly, she broke away and started giggling. Realizing the source, the hand that had been accidentally brushing her lower back started tickling her full force. Soon, she was squirming and laughing, her face becoming the reddest I had ever seen it, and begging me to stop. I did when she started saying she couldn't breath.

"Now, Mr. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy," she said, leaning back and gasping for breath. "Where are *you* ticklish?"

"You'll just have to find out, won't you?" I replied, untangling our legs and getting off of the couch.

She smiled a devilish smile, her coffee eyes now sparkling maliciously.

I ran for dear life.