Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to JK Rowling. I am simply a guest in her incredibly magical world of fiction.
Warning: This chapters contains implications of intimacy on a seriously personal level and cursing.
There were few things that were more pleasant than waking up after a night of intense and intimate fun next to a warm body. Rose Weasley, though slightly dehydrated and groggy from her night's adventures, rolled to her side to embrace the man next to her, only to be ripped from her blissful ignorance and come face to face with none other than Scorpius Malfoy. Suddenly, her wild night of fun and youthfulness had come to a rearing halt. Though she couldn't remember most of the evening past the first few drinks, she definitely knew that her current lack of attire plus Scorpius Malfoy plus the insane amount of pillows and blankets around her could only equal one thing. She had slept with Scorpius Malfoy.
As far as she knew, she remembered apparating to his flat and some of the details. There was no questioning her enthusiasm last night. Unfortunately, all of that enthusiasm was wasted on a man who she'd spent seven years of her life considering her rival in every aspect of her life. The pair had butted heads all throughout their school years. Whether it was academically or athletically, Rose had made it a personal goal to beat Scorpius Malfoy at everything. Granted, that was five years ago now, but the history still existed. It wasn't like she was exactly aching to see him again. Or at least she thought she wasn't.
Despite everything though, she could still walk out of his place with a shred of her dignity; that is, if she could collect her things and make her way to the door before waking up Sleeping Beauty. Though the task at hand was difficult, it was certainly not impossible, and she could easily cast a muffling charm on her feet once she found her wand. Or rather, if she found her wand in the mess the two of them apparently made last night.
She patted around in the pile of clothes on the floor first, in order to find her wand, and then went away at finding the rest of her things. She was mostly successful, save her bra, which she could not find for the life of her. It was nowhere to be seen! There was no way she could walk out of that flat with her head held high, and her pride intact without a bra. It was not happening. But she couldn't exactly risk summoning it with a charm. She might wake Scorpius, and the last thing she wanted was an awkward conversation over an uncomfortable breakfast with a man that she was supposed to hate who she accidentally slept with. It was messy to say the least.
Maybe the bra wasn't integral to her pride.
Or maybe she was a huge chicken who wasn't willing to take the risk.
Either way, she was leaving the flat without a bra on, which meant it would remain there until Scorpius discovered it and disposed of it. Hopefully he would dispose of it. Rose shuddered at the thought of him keeping her bra as a memento. The thought might've actually broken her brain.
She shoved herself into last nights dress, grabbed her purse and her wand, and tiptoed out the front door. At least she'd found her panties. It was one thing to go home braless; it was another thing to go home commando.
Once she was a safe distance past his closed door, she waved her wand and apparated outside the door of her own flat. With any luck, she'd avoid contact with her flat mate and cousin, Albus Potter, and be able to head straight to bed. The hangover that she thought she'd escaped earlier was starting to set in, and she really didn't want to waste any time sleeping it off. Also, she really didn't want to encounter her cousin on her walk of shame. He'd never let her hear the end of it.
"Look who's been out all night," Albus said slyly from the kitchen table where he was sitting. Of course, he was up, and of course, he had to say something. A giant smirk was plastered across his face.
"I don't want to talk about it." Rose grumbled as she made her way towards her bedroom.
"No way! You're not getting out of this that easy!" Al insisted. "How many times have you pestered me about coming home the next morning. Pay back time!"
"I give you a hard time because you've made it a habit. You're at a different flat with a different bird every night."
"And I'm giving you a hard time because you never do this. Rose Weasley barely goes out to the club, let alone go home with someone after!"
"Rose Weasley is tired, and doesn't want to discus her sex life with her cousin, thank you very much." Rose snapped at him.
Albus did not relent. He followed her down the hall. "You won't ruin this for me," he said. "Although, it's gross when you put it that way." Al made a face at her for filling in the details.
"If vulgarity is what will make you leave me alone, then I'll go there." She said before flopping on her bed and pressing her face into her pillows.
"Don't ruin my fun by making this weird!"
"It already is weird!"
"Only when you fill in the details! I don't want to know what position you were in, I just want to make fun of your walk of shame."
"Okay!" Rose interrupted. "Now you're the one who's making this gross and weird. Too far, Albus, too far!"
He sighed and stomped out of her room. "Don't think I'll forget this next time I have a one night stand! You're such a buzz kill!" He hollered at her from the kitchen.
"Goodnight Albus!" Rose replied before swishing her wand to shut the door from any further distractions. Sleep was very much needed as far as she was concerned, despite the early morning hour. It felt like night to her at least. Hopefully when she woke next, her headache would be gone. If not, she would have to succumb to more humiliation by asking Al for some hangover draught.
When she thought about, she'd rather suffer through the hangover to avoid that interaction. Being desperate for a hangover cure from Al was the last thing she needed. She was already in last nights dress, covered in last nights make up, braless and caught on her way in; begging for a hangover fix would be the straw that broke the camels back. At least she could imagine waking up with her dignity. Wishful thinking, but it helped lull her mind into a dreamless sleep.
Scorpius awoke to the faint pop of a distant apparation. Usually he slept fairly light, so it didn't take much to wake him; though, it didn't sound very close. The pop was definitely muffled as if it were out in the hall, but that didn't make sense. Why would someone be apparating outside of his door so early in the morning on a Sunday?
A sudden realization rushed over him and he whipped his arm over to the spot next to him. The last thing he remembered from the night before was that there was a person curled up with him. Now it appeared as though that person was gone.
With certain futility, he hustled pants on and rushed to the door as if some part of him thought he could catch the girl who had fled from his flat. Clearly she did not want to be caught or else she wouldn't have made such an effort to not wake him up. Apparently it took a bit more to wake him up than he thought, if she could manage to make herself presentable enough to leave without causing so much as a flutter from him. From what he remembered of the night before, and it wasn't much, they were neither cautious nor particularly graceful after they apparated to his place. It wouldn't have been easy to gather up all her things in what he assumed was a haste. He'd be impressed by her stealth, if he wasn't so offended by it. From what he remembered, they'd had a good time...a really good time. With any hope though, he'd see her again in a less inebriated state.
Except he had no clue who'd just run out his door.
He'd expected to remember her. His blurry images from the night before were memorable enough. Trying to remember had been an after thought; who could forget such an incredible girl after a night like that? Apparently he could and did, and now he had no way to get ahold of her. She'd ran out the door without so much as a note. At least it didn't look like she'd left a note. So he didn't know her name or how to contact her. Bloody brilliant of him!
And she was incredible—not just in the sheets, though she did have him there. He could remember the way her laugh lit up her face. He remembered her eyes that twinkled with energy and passion. He remember the feeling of her skin, and the fire it lit within him. She'd looked so out of place at the club, yet not awkward. She'd been sat at the bar nursing a drink as if she owned the placed. Confidence radiated off her, but she didn't mingle, at least not until he'd forced himself over to her. By the time he'd made his way over to her, he'd already been pretty far gone with his drinks. Everything after sitting down with her was a blur, but he was sure of one thing. Everything about her had been made to perfectly compliment him, and he couldn't remember her fucking name.
In a fit of frustration, he kicked his counter cabinet and slammed his fist against the countertop.
A stack of papers toppled down off a chair at the breakfast bar, and with it he caught a glimpse of something dark. He knelt down to lift it and smirked; it was a lacy black bra from his mystery girl. Instead of a phone number, she'd left him a cup size. Feeling almost, but not quite, ridiculous, he revelled in the idea of her leaving without it. It was like some part of the night still remained. It proved to him that it happened; proved that it wasn't just a figment of his imagination. The girl of his dreams had actually walked through his door and left a piece of herself there—even if it was something as trivial as a bra.
He spun the thing around a few times on his finger than put it away in his closet. If he had any luck, he'd have the opportunity to give it back to her in the near future. It was certainly wishful thinking, but a little optimism never hurt anybody. There was no sense in facing the reality of never seeing her again, if it wasn't actually going to be reality...or something like that. For the time being at least, he wanted to believe that he'd meet his mystery girl again. He wanted to believe that his luck could be that good.
And maybe when he finally got to see her again, he'd remember her fucking name.
This is my first attempted fic on here really, so I'm pretty green to this. I just wanted to thank anyone who bothers to read, and let you know that I'm working on the second chapter. If you're interested please review, and if you're kind, you'll patiently await an update. This chapter was a bit short, but I'd like to consider it a bit of prequel more than anything else. Expect longer chapters in the future. Thanks so much!