I remember, quite well actually, the first time I'd set my eyes on Scorpius Malfoy. Daddy held fast to my hand as we ran through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, and Mummy followed close behind with Hugo. He was irritated with me, as far as I could remember. I didn't want to through onto the platform by myself, and even though my father urged me forward, promising it wouldn't hurt, I refused, terrified. So he took my hand, and ran me through, my Mum and brother closely behind, and then went back for my trolley that we'd left on the other side.
It was the look on my father's face, the stony, austere expression painted there, which told me something was wrong. Placing his hand on the small of my mother's back, he guided the four of us forward, as far away from the barrier as I believed he would, whispering in her ear things that I didn't know until this day. But soon my cousins would start showing up, as there were so many, and Albus and I would board the train together, probably leaving Roxanne in our wake, as she was always the third wheel, as much as I don't want to admit it. Hugo would find great company in Lily, and haughty James would go off with his friends, despite the pleas from Auntie Ginny, who suggested he accompany the three of us first years onto the train.
But when it came down to the time we should find a compartment, and leave our brooding younger siblings behind, I boarded without Albus, my closest companion, by my side. And of course, I wouldn't sit anywhere without finding him first. I searched and searched, without giving any thought to finding a seat for myself so that I could at least avoid the awkwardness of having to sit with someone… weird. Before I knew it, I was the only one left in the aisle, other than the old woman with the candy trolley, and sighing in defeat, I crept into the closest free compartment.
And that was the first time I'd laid my eyes on Scorpius Malfoy. He was a dark character, that was for sure. He didn't seem to have any friends, because he was sitting by himself, staring blankly out the window, and didn't even look up when I opened the door. Looking down at my old, supposed-to-be-white trainers, a feeling of unwelcome washed over me. But there was nowhere else I could go. I lost Albus and James in the crowd, and my attempts to find them failed, so there wasn't anything else I could do. I lifted my trunk to the top shelf, sighing as I took my seat next to the door.
Scorpius looked at me then. I didn't look back, but I could feel his eyes on me and I, being the little embarrassed thing that I was, turned red. He muttered something to himself, before turning back to the window, and as I turned to address him, the door snapped open, and an irritated James peered in between us.
"Rose," He breathed, "Albus has been looking all over for you." He then turned to look at the fair-skinned boy, with his pointed features, and white-blonde hair, before looking back at me angrily. "Let's go." He growled through clenched teeth, before taking my trunk down from the rack above my chair.
I followed James out of the compartment, but not before catching a quick glance back at the fair-skinned angel, with his dark, mysterious eyes glaring up at me. They only made me walk that that much faster.
Rose Weasley grabbed her schoolbooks off of the trunk resting at the end of her bed, and dashed out of the room as fast as her legs would take her. She attempted, in vain, to wipe the sleepiness away from her eyes as she made her way down to the dungeon for potions, taking every step with minimal caution. Rose knew how she was, as clumsy as a hippogriff in a china shop. Each step was a risk that Rose had to be willing to take. Her mother had always insisted that she'd inherited the awkward clumsiness from her father, Ronald Weasley, and that her brother, Hugo, possessed that same trait. She couldn't argue that, Hugo had broken 7 bones in his lifetime. The gods must have made him a wizard so that he could heal faster.
By Merlin, she knew that she'd never hear the end of this. The daughter of Hermione Granger was late for class. It'd create an uproar, she was sure of it, and especially from the professors that would know her mother. She groaned to herself, keeping her feet moving at a steady, consistent pace, as to not get ahead of herself and trip down a flight of stairs. She knew that she should have went to bed at a decent hour the previous evening, but James kept her up with an essay that he'd written, which needed to be re-done in the long run, because it was such complete rubbish.
The rest of the day went poorly for her, with missing lunch and getting soaked by rain on her way to the Herbology greenhouses, Rose found herself in misery by the time she met the sixth floor landing. Frustration never really was an easy thing for Rose to deal with, and she couldn't seem to find a better outlet for her frustrations. She never really was a very angry person, and her emotional side definitely outweighed that most of the time. But maybe that was because she'd never really been made angry.
Rose was spoiled into the life she lived now. Her life was easy, void of problems, and terribly mundane. From time to time she might get in a little disagreement with James or Albus, but other than that, everything was weirdly perfect, boringly perfect. She did well in school without trying, and she had friends, and even if she was without any sort of romantic relationship, she couldn't say that she was ever unhappy. She was just there, boring, shy Rose Weasley, but she was okay with that. She'd never envy the life her uncle lived. She'd never want that.
And this was why the frustration, which was so rare, was so hard on her. She was a baby really, because of her lack of emotional experience. Any day a hair above average was tough for Rose. Her mother thought she was over-dramatic, and she agreed.
Her auburn hair was a bushy mess encircling her lightly freckled face, and a single tear dropped from her brown eyes. She wiped it away angrily, and clutched her books tighter to her chest. iI really am a fucking baby…/i she thought to herself, wishing to just evaporate.
A distinctive crack, not being quite the sound of apparation, came from the left side corridor as she inched closer to the portrait of the fat lady, causing her to jump and peer around. No one else was around her on the grand staircase, and she looked down, noticing a few third years snogging on the fourth landing. They would have never heard that.
But before Rose had any choice on the matter, the staircases changed, to bring her to stare the corridor in the face. Curiosity would get the best of her, as it always had, and Rose found herself creeping into the hallway, still clutching dumbly at her books, and not even thinking about her wand tucked deep into her robe's pocket. Leave it to plain old Rose to trust unknown situations such as this.
She had almost walked right past the source of the crash. Facedown against the concrete of the floor was none other than Scorpius Malfoy. The white-blonde of his hair contaminated with the scarlet that was seeping from a small cut on his hairline. Rose placed her books slowly on the ground beside him, and knelt down to get a closer look. A tormented expression was painted on his fair-skinned face, and his brow furrowed as he stirred in his unconsciousness. Rose didn't rightly know what exactly to do, and instead sat there in confused awe, taking in his perfect features from a closer point of view.
Stretching her fingers, Rose had sub-consciously made the decision to reach her hand forward and gently graze the gash on his forehead. She instantly regretted it.
It was remarkable to her how quickly the two of them had moved, but her next conscious thought came after he jumped up and caught her around the throat with his hand, pushing her backwards against the wall with terrifying anger and roughness. His silver eyes flashed in fury, pinning her against the wall with such force that should have hurt her more than it seemed to.
"What the ifuck/i do you think you're doing?" He hissed through clenched teeth, pointing his wand at her throat. He kept his grip firm, searching her face for an answer, and ignoring the stinging of the cut.
He could tell by the look in her eyes that he wouldn't receive an answer. She was afraid, terrified even, and that disgusted him. He removed his hand first, lingering in hopes of seeing her expression change. He didn't want to think of that look in her eyes for the rest of the evening.
Rose fought to keep herself composed. He was going to kill her, she was absolutely sure of it, and when he let go of the tight grip he had on her throat, she felt the fear morph into sadness. His beautiful face changed with his anger. He looked like a monster. Rose didn't want to spill the embarrassed, frightened tears that threatened to once again spill out onto her reddened cheeks. She bit on her cheek to keep them from coming.
He turned and left, leaving Rose rooted on the spot, breathless and hot. Her first breath would bring tears, and hysteric gasps she fought hard to control. She quickly gathered her things, and chest heaving, hurried to the safety of the Gryffindor common room, which was deserted.
Rose slowly sat onto the couch in front of the fire, her head in her hands, and back rising and falling drastically with her breaths. She could still feel his hands on her throat, pushing her angrily against the wall. She could still feel his cold, strong grip there. She hadn't meant to upset him. She just wanted to help. Rose didn't think that she'd ever felt more embarrassed in her life.
She really was impressed that she hadn't cried out in defensive terror, and begged him not to hurt her. She just stood there, staring him in the face like someone would a ghost. Now that she thought about it, this was the most interaction they'd ever had.
When was the last time her heart beat like this? She couldn't recall the last time she felt her blood surging through her veins. It'd been months since she'd felt so alive. Peeling her tear-soaked hands from her face, she ran a shaky hand through her hair, hiccupping helplessly. The excitement had brought Rose to life. She no longer felt bored with her surroundings, but maybe that was a bad thing. Maybe this was just what she needed to live up to her house's standards. Maybe she should pull a Harry Potter and go looking for trouble.
Rose laughed lightly to herself. Oh, hell no. She'd never do that. She was utterly humiliated. She never wanted to cross paths with Scorpius Malfoy again. She didn't think that it would make it any better to see him in Potions tomorrow. Maybe she should just vanish, or stay in bed for the rest of her life. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, highly aware of the fiery discomfort in her stomach, and looked around. She had all of her things; her books were by her side, and her wand never left her pocket. So maybe she could just stay in here until Saturday. Too bad it was Monday.
Gathering up her stuff, she shuddered once more in nervousness, and shuffled up the steps to the girl's dormitory. It felt like his hand was still at her throat, and she crept into bed to dream of his flashing silver eyes.