Dedicated to Ivillr Six, who did, in fact, request some Rose/Scorpius.
And apologies to everyone for the sudden wave of fics coming out right now. Think of them as an early Christmas present!
Discussions on Sulking
by padfoot
...
Rose Weasley was not sulking.
She may have been walking around the grounds by herself, and it may have been raining, and she may have been clutching her furl of parchment with a big ugly E in her hand, but she was certainly not sulking about it. She was just walking. In the rain. Carrying her test. Which she had practically failed.
(And no, Rose Weasley was not being overly-dramatic either, thank you very much!)
Rose's hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but the frizzy bits that had escaped hung in limp, dripping strands around her face. She had brushed her stupid curls back angrily some time ago, and now the water held in place, kinked and messy. Just how she felt.
Her mind, like her hair, was in a bit of chaos. She just couldn't understand how she has failed that test. And no matter how much the professor had explained that 'they were marked on a curve', and pointed out that 'this was just a practice assignment', and told Rose to 'think of it as a place to improve from' she just didn't get it. Rose Weasley did not get Exceeds Expectations'. She got Outstandings. Because that's what she was: outstanding.
Stupid essay.
A gust of wind surged across the damp Hogwarts grounds, chilling Rose to her bones. She pulled her cloak tighter with one hand, still gripping her stupid essay with the other.
The essay was almost definitely ruined now, what with rain and the wind and that puddle of mud that Rose or may not have dunked it into, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to throw it away. Rose had some vague idea about marching to the staff room and demanding to see her professor. She was regale him with a fantastically convincing argument of why she should have gotten an O. And he was concede that she was right, and she'd hand over her essay and this whole situation would be fixed.
Only, in the small part of her mind that was still operating in spite of the cold, Rose knew that none of that would happen. Instead she was stuck here in the wind and the having to cope. Having to bear the great, awful weight of an E.
An E.
Not that she was sulking or anything.
The rain eased off for just long enough for Rose to see what was ahead of her. She'd been walking for quite some time now, keeping the lake on her left and staring mostly at the ground in front of her feet. So she was quite surprised to look up and see the gates in front of her, blocking her progress.
Rose came to a halt, instantly regretting it as the wind picked up again, stinging her skin and making her muscles freeze up. She glared at the gates, wishing they could just disappear so she could keep walking forever, or at least long enough to make her anger die down.
Because she was angry, not sulking. Angry that her professor hadn't thought her work was good enough, angry at the possibly that maybe he was right and maybe it wasn't good enough. And, now that she thought of it, angry because she knew exactly why her work mightn't have been good enough and it entirely was not her fault.
Rose could remember writing that essay. She could remember sitting in the Library with five or six books spread out on the table around her. The other Gryffindor fourth years had paused at her table when they'd come in after dinner, and Albus had started to ask if he could sit down.
"There's plenty of spare tables," Rose had snapped, annoyed at being disturbed, "Can't you sit somewhere else, Al?"
Rose hadn't really felt bad. Albus would forgive her being so snippy, and he should have known better than to ask to sit with her anyway. He always just asked her for all the answers to their homework, then copied down her work word-for-word before turning around to talk loudly to someone else. Rose loved her cousin to bits, but Merlin was he a nightmare to study with!
So she'd been sitting alone, as per usual, and was halfway through her first draft of her essay when someone else had come up beside her. She had felt their presence rather than heard them approach, spent almost a minute ignoring them and hoping they'd leave, before flipping her long braid over her shoulder and looking up at them to ask, "What?"
Scorpius Malfoy had raised his eyebrows at her tone, and she'd instantly regretted it.
The boy her parents had warned her about all those years ago had really not lived up to their cautions. For the past three and a bit years, Scorpius had been nothing but quiet and well behaved. He kept to himself, spending almost as much time in the Library as Rose did. He didn't play Quidditch (although Rose imagined he'd be rather good at it) and never seemed to get into any trouble. So all in all he was not someone who deserved to be "What"-ed in such a harsh voice.
"Sorry," Rose had quickly said, "You were just creeping me out. Lurking like that."
"I don't lurk," Scorpius had replied, sounding a little affronted.
"Well, it seemed like lurking from here."
Scorpius had looked nonplussed, but he hadn't pursued the topic further. Instead, he'd pointed to a book on Rose's desk.
"Is that 'A Thousand Useful Uses for Transfiguration'?"
Rose had extracted the book and showed him the cover.
"Can I borrow it?"
"Um…" Rose had flicked back to the page the book had been open at. It had an interesting description of a spell that she was thinking to include in her essay. It hadn't exactly been on topic, but her professors liked her to add a bit more interest, to explore the questions rather than just give them an answer to it.
"I was hoping to use it," Rose had admitted, "Can't you just read something else and use this when I'm done?"
"There isn't anything else," Scorpius had said, his tone a little bit amused, "You've got all the Library's relevant Transfiguration books horded on this table. Didn't you realise?"
At that, Rose had turned red right up to her hairline, and shoved an armful of books at Scorpius Malfoy with muttered apologies.
She'd watched him return to his table, and then winced as she saw other people in their year begin to approach him, talking to him casually before leaving with one of the books he had acquired. Rose had missed having enough books to hide herself behind out of sheer embarrassment. She hadn't been able to help but wonder how much everyone really must have disliked her.
Everyone except Scorpius, of course, who for some mysterious reason had been perfectly comfortable coming up to her and taking her books. And then had been perfectly comfortable giving them all away again. The boy was an enigma, and it made Rose mad. She just hated things that she couldn't understand.
"I never knew you had a death wish," a voice said, pulling Rose back to reality.
She looked up to see who had spoken, and almost couldn't stand the irony of seeing Scorpius Malfoy approaching her from around the Lake.
He was wrapped up like a burrito in a huge overcoat as well as a scarf and beanie, with thick gloves on his hands. Still he looked cold as the wind battered against him, hindering his progress towards where Rose was standing.
From close up, less obscured by the rain, Rose could see little of tufts of Scorpius's hair that weren't quite hidden in his beanie. The short blond strands were plastered to his neck by the rain, visible against the thin sliver of bare skin that peeked out above his scarf.
"I'm all right," Rose said defensively, "Nothing wrong with a little bit of rain."
Scorpius chuckled and looked up at the sky, then pointedly at Rose's hair. It must have been about four inches flatter than usual. She wondered what it must look like for Scorpius to practically be able to see the shape of her skull.
"Okay," she amended, "Nothing wrong with a lot of rain, then."
Letting out another laugh Scorpius moved closer, huddling near enough that she could feel the warmth of his jacket. She tried not stare too longingly at it, suddenly aware again of just how cold she was, and how stupid it was of her to be out here not-sulking. The matron would have a fit if she turned up back at Hogwarts like this.
"So what are you doing out here?" Scorpius asked.
Rose shrugged, trying to act casual and not shiver too much. Her teeth had started chattering, and she didn't trust herself to speak without giving it away.
"Just thought it was nice weather for a walk?" Scorpius suggested, but he eyed her more critically, his gaze finally falling on paper still clutched in her hand. "Or you wanted to sulk, and didn't bother checking the weather first?"
"I'm not sulking," Rose muttered.
"Of course not," Scorpius said, sounding completely unconvinced.
They were silent for a moment. Rose started shifting her weight between her feet, trying to get the feeling back into her legs. Beside her, Scorpius stood still, his grey eyes staring out at the Lake, where the giant squid was lifting its tentacles up and down to create long, smooth waves across the choppy surface.
"But are you sure you're not sulking a bit?" Scorpius finally asked. "Maybe because you didn't get an O in that essay?"
Rose answered quickly, suddenly suspicious, "Why would you think that I didn't get an O?"
Scorpius shrugged, "Well, I asked the professor and he said he only gave out one O."
Rose forgot about the cold for a second as she absorbed Scorpius' words. If the professor only gave out one O, and if Scorpius had been in a position to ask…
"You got an Outstanding?"
"Actually, no."
"Then who?" Rose asked with a frown.
Scorpius eyed Rose for a second, as if unsure if she could take the news. Rose raised her eyebrows at him, urging him to go on. Eventually he scowled and said, "It was Albus."
Rose's expression faltered.
"Albus who?"
"Albus Potter."
"As in, Albus Albus? Our Albus?"
"Your Albus," Scorpius corrected, "I've never had much to do with him."
"But…"
Rose was at a loss for words. She'd been prepared to be angry with Scorpius. Losing to him in tests and exams had long been a part of her Hogwarts career. But losing to Albus? She didn't know how to process that information.
"But- Albus?"
Scorpius looked amused at Rose's confusion, and he even smiled a little. She had so quickly gone from sulking to gobsmacked, and the transition left Scorpius somewhat bemused.
"Wait," Rose then said, "So if you're not here to gloat about beating me in that essay, then why are you out here?" She paused, getting san idea, and slowly added, "Alone. In the rain."
All shivering forgotten, Rose stopped and stared hard at Scorpius. He looked away, trying to rearrange his expression into one of cool disregard.
Understanding dawned upon Rose, and a gleeful smile broke out on her lips.
"You're sulking!"
"I am not."
"You are! Oh, Scorpius, you shouldn't sulk over an E! The mark didn't even count, remember?"
Scorpius' lips were pinched, either because he was holding back a grin or a scowl. The expression might have frightened some, a warning to back down or go away, not dissimilar from the one Rose wore when she didn't want people to take her library books. But it didn't intimidate Rose.
"Come on, Scorpius," she said, prodding his side. He twitched away from her. "You can't sulk about it forever!"
"That really is something, coming from you," Scorpious snapped, but Rose could see his lip quivering, the smile hiding in his eyes.
She poked his side again, pushing in closer to him and staring up at the side of his face with an expectant expression.
"Don't be grumpy," she said, "We'll beat Albus next time, I promise."
The edge of Scorpius' lip hooked up in a reluctant grin.
"What are you going to do?" he asked, "Take all the library books so that Albus can't study?"
Rose blushed at the reminder of her faux pas.
"We could cast a spell on the books so that they say the wrong thing," she suggested, instead of lingering in her embarrassment, "Or we could charm them so whenever he goes near a book it flaps at him and tries to snap his ears inside its pages."
Scorpius chuckled, "Remind me who are the pranksters in your family, exactly – is it you or your cousins?"
"I sometimes think they might have rubbed off on me," Rose admitted.
Scorpius just raised his eyebrows, as if to say, you think?, and Rose grinned.
The two of them fell silent again for a minute, Rose not giving up her place closer to Scorpius as his warmth protected her from the worst of the wind's chill. Still, without a coat she soon became cold again, and Rose couldn't disguise it when she shivered hard, her whole body shaking.
Scorpius looked down at her, concern in his eyes.
"You cold?" he asked.
"Just a little."
He rolled his eyes at her obvious understatement and, a little awkwardly, shrugged off his overcoat, handing it to Rose. She started at the offer, but knew better than refuse it and quickly pulled the coat on. It was warm inside, and smelled faintly of mint and new books, smells that Rose always associated with Scorpius.
"Thank you," she said, wriggling her arms to try and get her hands to the ends of the coat's sleeves.
Rose had never realised how much bigger Scorpius was than her until now. His overcoat felt massive, like she was wearing a large, warm, nice-smelling tent.
Laughing at her predicament, Scorpius reached out to roll up the sleeves, his hands brushing against Rose's as he did. Neither of them let their eyes meet, both staring hard at where Scorpius' fingers were working on the fabric.
"There," Scorpius murmured, finished rolling the sleeves. His voice catching in his throat as he added, "Much better."
Rose looked up, startled to see how close Scorpius was.
"Thank you," she replied.
They stood there for a long moment, their bodies too close, Scorpius still holding the sleeve just by Rose's hand. She thought about moving her hand just an inch, shifting her body the tiniest bit so that they could touch. It wasn't that she'd ever been attracted to Scorpius per se, but more that, right now, she felt strangely connected to him.
After all, for all their differences, Rose figured that she and Scorpius had too much in common for her not to feel something. They both valued their studies, sometimes even over their friends, and were both recluses of sorts. They had spent hours upon hours together in the library, not always talking but sharing the space. They were used to each other in way that neither of them really planned, but that was impossible to deny now they were so close.
Rose had to admit that she'd never wanted to touch Scorpius until now. She'd never been conscious of the space between them up until this moment, but now that tiny gap felt like a cavern. Just thinking of bridging it opened up a whole new world or dangerous possibilities, making Rose feel all of a sudden too hot.
She wasn't attracted to Scorpius, at least not quite yet, but there was definitely something. The possibility of attraction. An awareness of something maybe, something soon, something like a promise between them. Something buzzed almost solidly in the air between them, defying the cold and the rain, thriving and brimming with life in that short, shocking moment of closeness.
Scorpius cleared his throat and back away a few steps, creating an awkward distance between them.
"Do you want to head back to castle?" he asked, and Rose wordlessly nodded.
Together, but separate, they turned towards home, sneaking short glances at one another. They both kept looking away, faces red and hot, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
As she walked, Rose contemplated this new energy between her and Scorpius. This was a brand new itch, a brand new little mystery. Without having to think about it, she knew with absolutely certainty that, one day soon, this sudden world of what-ifs would begin to annoy her. One day soon, this itch would demand to be scratched.
Rose frowned at that though, bothered by the possibility of some new inconvenience in her life. As they neared the castle, she couldn't help resenting Scorpius a bit for creating this whole new issue. She snuck another glance at him, her face bent in a scowl, and this time didn't look away when he caught her staring.
"Something bothering you?" he asked.
"No," Rose replied, her tone clipped.
"You look like you're sulking again."
Rose huffed out an annoyed breath and looked away. For someone who didn't sulk, everyone certainly seemed to accuse her of it often enough!