Disclaimer; JKR is the rightful owner, Warner owns their part, and I make nothing. This is just for fun. And procrastination.

The frighteningly blue eyes of Rose Weasley were stormy, her facial expression decidedly angered, in the two seconds the blond wizard had of unimpaired vision before she maliciously directed her knee into his groin and Disapparated with a crack he never heard as he fell to the ground whimpering in pain.

"Crazy- witch!" He wheezed, rolling onto his knees and placing his head on the ground, hands protectively over his crotch – an action too late to prove effective.

After a few minutes, he laboriously climbed to his feet and spun into nothingness with a noise like a gunshot.

OoO

"Rose! Let me in." He called that afternoon, rapping on the apartment door with an open palm. "Rose!"

She didn't answer.

"You can't just ignore me forever."

He closed the hand and bashed his fist against the wooden door, resting his forehead on it as he waited. There was a smashing sound and Scorpius resigned himself to wait a few days for the girl the cool down. He didn't fancy being on the end of one of her infamous Avis-Oppugno combination hexes – the conjured birds were quite sweet before the second hex was employed, which sent the birds careening in attack to whomever she chose.

OoO

"I've messed up big time, Jacqui." Scorpius said forlornly, sitting on the clean, startlingly white, front desk of the florist shop.

"You say that every time." The curly haired florist replied, brushing an errant dark curl from her eyes as she wrapped a bouquet of orchids.

"Normally it doesn't end in physical violence." He said worriedly, fingers clenching around the edge of the desk. "And she wouldn't speak to me either. She hasn't acted out like this since we were at school."

After a long moment where Jacqui merely looked at the blond, she said, "I'm sorry."

He sighed into the silence, and she pursed her lips, looking thoughtful.

"Maybe I can help you out?"

"How?"

His voice sounded so defeated that she couldn't fight the need to give him a hug. He stiffened momentarily, and then relaxed, as she told him that everything would be okay, because regardless of these rough patches, he and Rose Weasley were destined to be together, even if it was just to make their grandparents – and parents – awkward and uneasy.

A watery laugh escaped him and she told him to come back tomorrow.

OoO

On the first day since their rather violent parting, Rose returned home from work to find a bouquet of zinnia lying on the mat in front of the apartment door. There was no note.

OoO

The second day, she was at her desk in the Ministry when a stunning white owl that she didn't recognise flew into her office and dropped a single pink camellia before her. She tried to stop the bird, but it hesitated only for a moment and then vanished through the open doorway. Rose gazed at the flower for several minutes, but eventually turned her wand on it and banished it to the apartment.

OoO

On the third, a tulip wreath made its way to her doorway, resting against the wood when she arrived home in the evening.

OoO

The fourth brought a small square potted arbutus bonsai.

OoO

On the fifth, a bouquet of light pink roses arrived.

OoO

The sixth found a collection of white violets on her desk at work.

OoO

And the seventh day, a week since her altercation with Scorpius, saw eight branches of flowering almond tied together with a gorgeous pink bow.

She wasn't sure why all seven gifts still sat on the table, instead of lying in the bin, but she couldn't help smile wistfully at them from her seat in the lounge, legs crossed and a warm cup of tea in her hands.

OoO

Thumping the door on the eighth day of their separation, the door, unexpectedly, swung open and Scorpius stumbled, righting himself to find the livid red head glaring at him once again.

"I can exp-"

"Don't speak yet, Malfoy." She growled warningly.

The door was only partially open and the curvaceous red head was blocking the entrance with her body, but Scorpius Malfoy could see a broken vase in the hallway behind her. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.

"Why should I listen to you?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest, drawing Scorpius' eyes to her cleavage. Rose glowered at him.

"Because you don't know the whole story." He countered truthfully.

"Maybe I don't want to know."

"I think you do." He murmured. "You're too proud to say it, but you do."

"You think you know everything but, guess what, you haven't any idea how it felt for me! To see her- doing- ugh! I hate her." She vented, adding huffily, "I hate you."

"No you don't." Scorpius denied her exclamation softly.

She made to swing the door shut in his face, but Scorpius shoved his foot in the gap, wincing as it was crushed against the edge of the skirting board.

"Rose," – thud –

"let" – thud –

"me" – thud –

"in" – thud –

"so" – thump –

"OW! Rose!" He pushed his shoulder against the door, gingerly touching his foot. "I can explain. Just let me in."

She'd clearly run out of energy to keep damaging his person – or at the very least, his foot.

He pushed tentatively against the door and when it curved inward the relief washed over him like water. Rose had sunk to the ground, leaning on the hallway wall. She looked exhausted, and Scorpius shut the door before dropping down next to her. From where they sat, he could see the seven bouquets and miniature pots all sitting on the table.

"Did you find out their meanings?"

"What?" She asked, confused, tired eyes looking up at him.

"The flowers. They all had a special meaning. I thought you liked Herbology?" He teased gently.

"I do, it's just, well, that, – I was upset!" She grumbled, sounding a little annoyed. He couldn't tell whether it was aimed at him or at herself.

"You see the zinnia?" He asked, pointing to the yellow flowers that had arrived on the first day. "It means 'thoughts of absent friends' and the yellow means 'daily remembrance'. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I didn't sleep a wink that night."

Rose didn't say anything, so he kept speaking.

"The pink camellia means 'longing for you'. I missed you so much, even then – one day of separation." He smiled crookedly. "The third day was tulips. I was really missing you by then. Not having you next to me, the 'perfect lover'. That's what it means, the tulip: 'perfect lover'."

She made a small choking sound and her hand pushed at him weakly in a half-hearted attempt to be offended, by she was smiling minutely so he pushed onward.

"The bonsai took a while to find, but I'm glad I got a hold of it. It's an arbutus. It's a declaration of love."

Rose sucked in a sharp breath.

"It took me a while, but I got there in the end." Scorpius said, looking her in the eyes. When she turned away he grasped her chin and made her gaze back into his grey eyes. "Thee only do I love."

"Scor..." She breathed, her eyes red from crying. He shook his head.

"Let me finish." He said softly with a smile. "I know you aren't a fan of roses, but the light pink rose has a number of meanings that I couldn't pass up. Grace, joy, perfect happiness, gratitude, admiration; I could have chosen it for any of those reasons, but it also means this: 'please believe me'."

He was staring into her eyes again, sincerity oozing from his very pores, begging her to listen, to believe everything he was telling her.

"And the violets?" She whispered, wiping her tear stained face.

"Youthful innocence." He smiled. "Or, let's take a chance."

Pointing to the last gift, the flowering almond, he added, "If you couldn't tell, I was banking on the second one. They signify hope."

Rose chuckled, and though it was watery, it was also genuinely happy.

"I'm sorry, Scorpius." She said, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry for being such a miserable cow to you. I know you don't do it on purpose, and I know you treat her the same way as everyone else, but she's always hovering over you, and sometimes it just makes me so angry. She always did this, even at Hogwarts."

The tears threatened to start again, and Scorpius gathered the red head into his arms and shushed her.

"Don't worry about Susie. She's nothing more than colleague to me, you know that, and why would I bother with her when I have a sexy, fiery, red-headed temptress like you anyway, hmm?" He comforted her, and she cuddled closer to him, breathing in the sandalwood scent that had been missing from her apartment for the last week. Scorpius kissed her temple and she sighed, feeling exhausted but better than she had all week.

"I'm sorry for kicking you." She apologised in a small voice. "I hope everything still works okay."

He laughed, and she listened to the rumble of it in his chest before sitting up properly.

"I love you Scorpius. I really do."

"I love you, too."

"Even when I'm a hot headed, Weasley-tempered, cow?"

"Even when you're a hot headed, Weasley-tempered, cow." He affirmed with a nod, and stood up, offering her a hand.

She hesitated for a mere second, and then murmured, "I'd like to take that chance," before taking his hand.

OoO

Scorpius didn't leave until almost eleven the next morning, and when he did, it was with a cryptic message shouted through the bathroom door as Rose took her morning shower.

"There's one more."

When she had freshened up, Scorpius Malfoy had vanished via the floo, and she was greeted with a prepared breakfast of pancakes, with a single flower set on the serviette. It was a spider flower according to the small note beside it, but there was nothing else written there so Rose fetched her old Herbology book and searched it for the species. When she found it, her hand flew to her mouth.

There was only one entry.

After staring at it for five long minutes, she flooed to the Ministry and half-ran to Scorpius' office, darting past Susie without even acknowledging the rival woman, and wrenching open the door to see Scorpius look up from his desk.

The door swung shut behind her and she was smiling so widely that she thought her face might split down the middle.

"Yes." She said simply, and Scorpius was in front of her like lightning kissing her as if his life depended on it. She returned the favour, clutching him tightly, hands in his hair, arms around his neck; and back at the apartment the old Herbology book still sat open on the spider flower entry, where the bold heading 'meaning' was followed by three little words.

Elope with me.

End.