Across The Hall
You stare across the Great Hall at Her – Her with a capital letter like God, because to you, She is equal to Aphrodite (whose name always has a capital letter). Even Her very name is a symbol of love.
You know that your father would disown you, and her brother and many cousins would lynch you if you ever asked her out. These two facts scare you more than the actual act of asking her out, as you quite like your family (and the family vault at Gringotts) and you also quite like your body intact. So, She remains oblivious to the fact that you fancy her like mad.
Her clear, cerulean eyes meet your grey ones, and for the third time this week you feel the spark jump like lightning between you.
Embarrassed to be caught staring, a dull flush mounts your pale cheeks and you look away, glancing along the Gryffindor table until you see her cousin, your fried Albus. Your father and his father aren't overjoyed about your friendship, but you know that when they were seventeen – your age – they saved each other's lives, and neither you nor Al think that your fathers' animosity should get in the way of your friendship.
Through Al, you've become quite good friends with Her, as well, and you secretly, silently, thank him for this every time She talks to you. Al smirks at you now, as he knows why you are so pink. He might be the only one of her massive family who would be OK with you asking Her out.
One down, four hundred and ninety-seven (or thereabouts) to go. Including Her.
HPHPHPHP
You've come down for breakfast like you have every morning since you started at Hogwarts, and, like every morning since He started at Hogwarts, He is there, at the Slytherin table. You know that you can never be anything more than friends, for whoever heard of a Weasley and a Malfoy dating? If you didn't know Him, you'd have said it was preposterous. But you do know him (and you're glad that you do) so you wish that it could happen.
You gaze around the Great Hall. Your cousin Albus Potter has just come in with his girlfriend, Alice Longbottom.
"Hey, Al. Hey, Al," you greet them absently, and return to scanning the Great Hall for anyone that you know. Al Potter's little sister Lily is flirting with Luke Jordan, but your eyes are drawn to the Slytherin table in search of those eyes like mirrors.
He is sitting directly opposite you. He's done that every morning since you started seventh year, and now that Christmas is over and Valentine's Day (ha) is approaching, you wonder if He does it on purpose. Because of Al Potter, you're quite good friends with Him; you study Ancient Runes together every Thursday, and yesterday you and He had a picnic with the two Als by the lake. You and He exchanged eye-rolls when Al and Al acted all lovey-dovey, but secretly you felt extremely jealous.
You've got it bad.
So bad, in fact, that when you make eye contact with Him across the Hall and He, blushing, looks away, you feel like locking yourself into the girls' bathroom and not coming out at all, not even if He and your cousin accidentally lock a mountain troll in there with you.
You glance along your own table now. The two Als are seated a little way away from you. Al Potter is smirking at Him.
Idiot.
HPHPHPHP
You watch your cousin and your mate exchange shy glances across the Hall and wonder when they're going to get it together. They've fancied each other for years, you know that. You've even talked to your own father about it, and he reminds you that Rose's parents took until what would have been their seventh-year to finally snog.
In front of Dad.
You're not too sure you could handle that, which is why, that very afternoon, fed up with their tiptoeing, you shove them unceremoniously into the Room of Requirement and stand guard outside, facing the tapestry of trolls in tutus. They hammer on the door, demanding to be let out.
"No way," you call back. "Not until it's settled that you'll go to Hogsmeade together for Valentine's Day.
A shocked silence. Then …
"Do you really mean that?" Rose breathes.
"They'll lynch me!" Scorpius yelps, obviously thinking about your many cousins. Oh, and Uncle Ron.
This is why he wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor, you think, longing to thwack him. "All right," you sigh, long-sufferingly. "I'll settle for a snog."
They don't make any answer to this. At least, none that you're interested in hearing. According to your father, the kiss that Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione shared that day got pretty heated.
You smirk – you seem to be smirking a lot today – and wander off to the library to watch Alice tutor Lily in Herbology.
A.N: I'm branching out, aren't I? This is my first attempt at second-person POV. I hope it wasn't too terrible. Alice Longbottom II (Neville and Hannah's daughter) and Luke Jordan (Lee's son) are my invention. I do have vague plans for a fic about the next generation, but this kind of took over (seriously. I was trying to write a plan for a Marauders-at-Hogwarts fic on the plane back from Tasmania and the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone). Plus I've still got Hermione Granger, the Cleverest Witch in the World and Unwritten to finish. I don't think I'm the first to write a AlbusHarry, ScorpiusRon, RoseHermione type of fic, so if it was your idea first, I hope I didn't maul it. Thanks to Cassandra's Cross, who informed me that the rose is a symbol of love. (Sometimes I wonder what my overprotective father would say if he knew, because my middle name is Rose.) Reviews are always appreciated.