A/N: Hey there! So I really wanted to write a Next Gen fic with Scorp/Rose, but it will dwell on many, many others. Starts off in 6th year, (though this prologue bit is at the end) and continues from there.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything.
Reviews are chocolate for Remus!
Prologue
She's sitting in the window seat of the Hogwarts Express, looking out when he finds her in the compartment they had claimed on the first day of that same year. ("She looks like she belongs in a painting," he thinks.)
"Been a hell of a year, hasn't it?" Scorpius asks, and Rose turns to nod at him, a faint smile pulling at her lips. He slides into the seat across from her and grins, "What do you reckon seventh year'll be like?"
"Well, I'm hoping for ridiculously anti-climactic, but…"
"There's no chance of that happening."
"Exactly."
They sit for a few moments, Rose's hands ghost tapping without a hard surface to rest upon, until Scorpius clears his throat. Her eyes flit up to meet his. (They're blue. She wished he didn't wear glasses so that she could see them better.)
"It's not over, you know, he'll come back and when he does –"
"We'll figure it out then. We always do."
(He tries to ignore the thrill that goes through him when she says "we" like that.)
"Hm," is what he manages out loud, "maybe you're right."
The train is beginning to slow down now, coming to a stop in a few minutes and with that realization comes the clamor from other compartments as others get ready to get off with their belongings.
"I'll write," she says before he has a chance to say anything as they stand with their bags in their hands.
He looks at her a few seconds, eyes bright. (She can't breathe.)
"Yeah," he laughs a little, "you better." There's a final smile, and she's gone.
He catches a final glimpse of her with her siblings and cousins, her parents and the Potters, before he's caught up in his father's characteristic smirk and clap on the back, his mother's tight embrace.
She looks for him one last time as she leaves the station, a sort of instinctive glance for his location that had become customary whenever she entered or left a room. She finds the telling mop of blond hair in question and smiles to herself.
"A hell of a year, indeed."
Future chapters will be longer, please review!
Love,
eloquentcherrywood