She knew it was wrong, really, she did, but like every other girl her age, and she was entranced by the man. For someone twice her age he was super-hot to look at, an idol, and most importantly, a sex symbol. Age had done nothing to deter his looks, and even at the age of thirty-five, he was still yummy.
She gossiped about it with her friends, the girl's at least. Albus and James couldn't stand to listen to her go ga-ga over a Malfoy, not with all of the family's history. But after seeing the headlines in the fall about his appearance in the real world in more than eight years, people fell over themselves to steel a copy.
There was something entrancing about a bad boy with a smoking body. And he'd had a stint in Azkaban to top it. Try as she may, Rose couldn't stop the devil in her from being attracted. But that's all it was really, attraction and need. He was almost twice her age after all, and married. There would be an uproar if they were even seen together.
Why did Draco Malfoy have to be so damn hot? He was getting up there in his years, but the shirtless pictures taken of the blonde and his wife at the beach one day, seen outside for the first time in years got teen girl's hearts racing. He wasn't a celebrity, any more than his name allotted, but boy did he have abs and muscles! There were plenty of rumors and stories circulating about the Malfoy's even before the reappearance of Draco, all of which her parents laughed at. They thought they were ludicrous, but she thought they were fascinating. Who didn't love a mysterious, dangerous man?
Yes, Rose was at that stage in life where she wanted a rebel, and a hot older rebel was like the icing on the cake! Yummy.
No one really seemed to approve of her idea though outside of her girlfriends. Albus warned her that her parents might have a stroke and die if they found out, James ranted about how much he hated Scorpius, Draco's son, and Gwenyth- Luna and Neville's daughter- told her that the aura was bad with that one. Only a few people understood her fascination with the man.
Besides, if nothing else, he looked wonderful in her fantasies- though she wouldn't tell anyone that. It was a secret she would keep just to herself.
At least she wasn't completely mental yet; she didn't carry stalker-like pictures of him around, only imagined that snapshot of his chiseled body on a day-to-day basis, which was totally normal for a sixteen year old girl, right? She liked to think so.
The students had just returned from winter break one morning when Rose found herself wandering around with Gwenyth, chatting as they padded through the halls. Classes didn't resume again until the following day, and they were taking the opportunity to escape from the boys a bit, deciding to wander around the halls allotted to students before curfew hit.
"This obsession of yours is most unhealthy," Gwenyth pointed out, shaking her head at her friend. "The aura around Draco Malfoy is bad; my mother told me so. He's way too old for you, and he's been charged as a Death Eater. Can you imagine what your parents would say if they found out? They might just disown you!"
"My parents aren't going to disown me," Rose replied, shaking her head. "Mostly because they aren't going to find out. I'm just obsessing over him right now, but as my mum said, I'm a teenager and I'm going to be weird. It's something that I'm completely willing to accept. And if fantasizing about Draco Malfoy is the worst thing that could happen to me, then I'm doing pretty good."
"Isn't it awkward though?" she asked, staring at her friend. "I mean, you attend school with his son."
"Oh please, Scorpius is nothing. He's in the middle of puberty! He's all lanky and awkward, and he can't even glance my way without being a complete jerk, even if I'm not doing anything to him. He's the most childish, immature person I've ever encountered. No wonder Albus, James and Hugo don't like him."
"They don't like him by default," the blonde girl reminded her friend. "Their parents hate his father, thus they hate his son. I can't say I like him too much either."
"He's just full of himself," the ginger replied, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. "That's all. They hate him mostly because the first week of school he had to start a fight with James, getting under his skin. They've all hated one another ever since. Mum says that's how it used to be when she attended school here with Draco."
"That's not surprising," Gwenyth replied, shrugging. "It's not unusual for children to act how their parents once did. Since we are all here following the footsteps of our parents, it was highly improbable that we wouldn't end up like them along the way."
"I know," the girl sighed, rolling her eyes at her friend. She always brought up things like that. "I know."
They walked in silence for a bit, the echoes of their steps ringing in their ears as they went. Most students were already back in their common rooms with curfew approaching, and the two girls decided it was time to head back.
"You know, James is pretty cute…"
"Oh, Gwen, not this again!"
"I'm just saying he really does like you rose! He'd probably be overjoyed if you paid him some attention."
"I know but… James is like a brother."
"And Draco could be your dad. At least James is age appropriate." They halted as Gwen nearly ran into someone who had just rounded the corner, barely suppressing laughter.
"So Rose, you've got the hot's for my father? I must be honest, I find that extremely disturbing."
Her cheeks coloured as Scorpius appeared from behind his mate, grinning in her direction. Oh Merlin, he was so going to hold this against her! The other person she recognized as Zane Zabini, son of Draco's friend Blaise, who her parents also knew during school.
"As if," she muttered, waiting a few moments too long before answering. "What would I find attractive in a pale, slimy man like your father? He can't be any better than you!"
The boy shrugged, remaining cocky. At sixteen, Scorpius knew he was a catch just like his father had been, and loved to flaunt it. He'd been in the middle of picking up a girl when he and Zane heard the approaching footsteps of two oncoming people, and the shy Ravenclaw scattered, two years younger than he was. But now that he knew what the conversation consisted of and who was speaking, he couldn't be more pleased. This was better than leading a poor fourteen-year old on. Now he could mess with Rose's head.
"That's not the impression I got," he teased, wandering towards her. Rose, born from two very independent and strong individuals, stood her ground and did not move from her position as the blonde circled her. "You sounded smitten with him, which, like I told you Weasley, is disturbing."
"You're just delirious," she commented, raising a hand as though it was obvious. "I think you're actually hearing things Malfoy."
"I heard it too Weasley," Zane said, stepping in. She cursed her luck, wishing the blonde was alone so she would have one less person to handle.
"I was impersonating all of the other girls that think he's to die for," she said offhandedly, growing agitated. He just had to buy her lie, for she refused to have this hanging over her head. In reality though, she shouldn't have been discussing it out in the open to begin with. "I know better than to fall for bigoted gits like you."
"You sound like your mother," he huffed, rolling grey eyes. "My father said that she always calling him names. Listen here Weasley, you might think you can fool me, but you're not doing a very good job." He reached out and pat her cheek, and she squirmed away from his hand. "Don't worry, you'll get better with age."
"Why I-"
"Curfew!" Gwen hissed, glancing at a nearby clock. Zane let her slip by him, stepping aside to let the strange woman pass. "Rose, we have to go!"
"Calm down," she muttered, even as the girl snatched up her hand, pulling the ginger girl away from the scene. Rose turned back as she was pulled away, eyeing the sneering blonde as they disappeared around the corner. How could someone with such an attractive father be so disgusting? She would never understand Scorpius, not so long as she was alive.
"Come on Rose! We're already late."
"It'll be fine Gwen," she muttered, glancing back the way they had come. Sometimes that man made the gears in her head turn. Why did he pester her so about whether or not she was crushing on his father, when there were so many other girls who made it far more obvious? Why did he have to bother her?
She never did understand why he insisted on getting under her skin so much.
She was able to avoid the man in the coming days, not by trying, but because things got so busy. Classes expected papers soon, projects were due, and it was only halfway through the semester. This year was killer.
Rose wasn't going to argue though, for she really didn't want to see him. Scorpius was a pain, and she was sure his first topic of business would be to taunt her for liking his father. After all, that had to unsettle any teenage boy that all of his peers found his father more alluring. It had to be a big hit on his confidence levels for sure.
Nonetheless, she wasn't going to make any attempt to make him feel better. He'd probably think it was a joke to meet his father or some other nonsense. Rose liked Draco Malfoy from afar well enough, but that didn't mean she actually wanted to meet him! Liking a person for their physique and liking them for who they are can be two completely different concepts. And Rose certainly didn't like that man for his past. He was an enemy of her parent's after all.
The next time they crossed paths, he found her again, sitting in the library, reading a book on something. She was just like her mother in that way, always with her nose in a book, and the blonde found it tiresome. He was there looking for a book for one of his projects and happened across her.
"Well look what we have here," he said, startling her as he approached. She slammed the book down and stood from her desk, eyeing him suspiciously. "A little ginger reading up on her fairytales."
"It's mythology Mafloy," she snapped, rolling her eyes.
"Like I said, fairytales," he taunted, leaning against the nearest bookshelf. "I must say it's reassuring to see you outside of your room this time of day, unlike half the population. Even if you do love my father, you have the teeniest hint of self-control."
"I don't love him," she hissed, her eyes widening. "I could never love a monster like that."
Scorpius tilted his head up a hair. "Monster, aye? Didn't sound like you thought of him as a monster yesterday."
"Well, I do," she snapped, crossing her arms in a defensive stance. "My parents have told enough stories about him to make me despise the man, you can be sure of that. It also gives me enough grounds to hate you as well. You've got the same bloodlust in you, the same need to kill."
He was in her face in less than a moment, his eyes a smoldering grey. "Don't compare me to my father Weasley, ever! We're nothing alike."
The woman squared her shoulders, undeterred by his anger. "You seem pretty similar to me! Your both full of yourselves, you both think you're better than anyone else and you're both surrounded by the same friends." He knew she was hinting at Zane, the son of his father's school friend. "You both think a self-righteous attitude and snappy attitude will get you places, but it won't!"
"Shut up Weasley!" he spat, giving her a shove backwards. "You don't know anything!"
She gave him a crooked smile, glancing over the man's body just once. "I don't, do I? You're practically his prodigy! You have the same blonde hair, face, broad shoulders. The same intense height, the makings of a Seeker, the high marks in potions. You're a flirt, wandering around all bloody day winking and playing with girls who you're just leading on. It sounds a lot like what your father is known for."
Before she really knew what was happening he had her slammed back against the bookcase behind her, his hands gripping the front of her robes.
"You're just as blind as everyone else," he hissed. "You see the obvious similarities, but don't dig deep enough to see the differences. You're too stuck on the top layer of reality, not seeing beneath the obvious." He leaned against her, pressing the girl back against the shelves behind her so one hand could reach up and grip her hair, pulling on it until her head tilted back. "But you're not that stupid Rose, not one bit. Quit being so fucking blind and look beneath the surface."
She was stunned that he used her first name at all, and let that sink in briefly as she stared up at him, her wand abandoned back on the table. She hadn't expected to be attacked. But all of her thoughts were halted as he pulled her hair harder, tilting her head back further, and bent down to kiss her, attaching his lips to her own.
The entire world froze, and she wasn't entirely sure what was going on. Here was her enemy, the boy who thought she was lusting after his father, kissing her in a way that made her toes curl deliciously. He was pretty damn good at it, and she supposed he had to get that trait from his dreamy father. But she couldn't really recall what Draco looked like anymore, not at that moment, and she began to melt into Malfoy's kiss.
Merlin, what the hell was she doing? What if someone saw them?!
She twisted her head to the side and broke the series of kisses, gasping for air as she ignored the throbbing pain in her head. "What are you doing?"
"Reminding you that I'm not my father," he growled, licking her ear. She shivered involuntarily, wondering why on earth she was enjoying his uncalled for, unexpected advances.
She moaned as he bit down on the area he'd been licking. "And you think this is the way to do this? This is madness!"
He chuckled, pulling his teeth off of her ear. "Sweet Rose, if you really thought this was madness, if you really didn't want something from me, you would've pushed me off my now."
"Well," she said, losing her trail of thought again as he attacked her ear. What was he playing at? Maybe this was a diabolical scheme to totally humiliate her, play her like all his other toys, or perhaps get her hot and then turn away, leaving her in the library. That might possibly be the worst option of them all. They were still young, only sixteen, but her only other sexual experience was almost six months old. The man she shared her first experience with didn't look at her the same way anymore, and she couldn't imagine him in that scenario again. It was an old experience, one which lingered in her mind, one that she didn't ever have plans of repeating until she was married.
But Merlin, he was quite skilled with his lips, and heaven forbid the nonsense about him being the new Slytherin Sex God might actually be true! His father once held the same titles, and she supposed it had to be either the name or genetics that caused the title to descend from father to son. She'd just never considered that the rumors might indeed be real until now. It was a bit startling.
He released her hair, her scalp tender now from being pulled on for so long. His hand snaked between their bodies, and she gasped as he clamped it around one of her breasts, having not expected that so quickly. He continued to kiss her, distracting her from the action. But when his hand slid down and made to slide beneath her blouse, she stopped him, pushing him away. He backed off without a complaint.
"What are you doing?" she asked, attempting to straighten her clothing out. Her lips were swollen from being kissed, and her usually long red and neat hair was a bit messed up on the side he'd been pulling on. Without meaning to he admired his handiwork with a smirk on his face. She looked uncertain about the entire experience, completely unsure about what she'd just done, but he wasn't paying it any mind.
"I'm proving a point," he replied, the smirk still intact as he pulled his wand out, letting it hand in a lazy grip at his side.
"What are you proving?" She still sounded out of breath, frazzled from the entire experience.
He chuckled, grinning wider. "You're smitten with my father little Weasley, but you forget that although I want you to access the differences between us, there are similarities, specifically in our physique." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Which you of course just experienced.
Rose's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What are you doing to me?" she asked, uncertain of his intentions now. She studied him, but he only continued to grin.
"You want my father, because he's handsome and dreamy. Just remember Weasley, I'm just like him, but almost twenty years younger." He winked. "Just a thought."
He turned to go and she scrambled forward snatching up her wand. "Then why did you kiss me?! Is this your sick way of getting a point across!?"
Scorpius chuckled. "I don't know why you're so disheaved Weasley; you're getting what you wanted."
"I don't fantasize about your father," she mumbled, her cheeks turning pink. He laughed, shaking his head at the girl.
"Oh please, everyone already does. The bad boy image, body, everything, I hear it all the time. And I'm not stupid; I heard you speaking with your little friend the other day in the halls. You were so loud it echoed! I wouldn't surprised if others knew as well. My point is Weasley that although I'll never be doing that again, it's fun to occasionally mess with a person's head."
Rose pursed her lips, thinking over his words as she stood there still shaking, as he turned and began to leave the space again. He was almost gone when she finally spoke up.
"You're jealous."
He whirled around. "Excuse me!? Who the fuck would I have to be jealous of?! My father?"
"Yes," she replied, grinning. "Yes, I believe you are. You stroll through these halls all the time, thinking you're the king of this place, but in reality your father still has more swooning girls then you do!" She set her wand back down, clapping enthusiastically. "Oh, it makes sense now! Why you hate being compared to him, why you can't stand when people bring up his name, I get it now! You can't stand that after everything he's done, after he's been this awful person since he went to school here, that he was able to flip his life around and actually be worthy of the title of fantasy by so many people. And you, in your prime, can't catch the same break. It must be disappointing."
His lip twitched, and she waited for him to say something. But he never did, and instead turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving the ginger alone in her quiet space again. Once certain he was gone, she pulled out her chair and slumped in it.
What in Merlin's name was going on? Did he really kiss her, use her first name, all to prove a bloody point, or where his intentions still unclear? The moment she brought up the topic of jealousy though, he got tense, and she felt certain that she'd hit the nail on the head.
But why kiss her? He could make the same point by just speaking to her, she was sure. But he took it that extra step and physically touched her, tasted her, touched her, in ways she originally thought would appall him. He was all about blood purity like his parents, right?
Rose just wasn't sure exactly what was going on in his head, but after that searing kiss she had no intention of dropping this topic. She was going to find out exactly why he hated his father so much, and why he couldn't stand the topic of jealousy.
Rose gave him space for a few days, needing her own to collect her bearings before she tried to confront him again. The kiss still replayed in her mind, from the way he tasted to how alive her body felt. It was a sensation she'd never experienced before, even with her first. When she did finally go to see him, she found him out on the Quidditch pitch, having remained behind after the rest of the team left practice. He ignored her as she approached his seat, and even when she sat down beside him.
"Get lost," he spat, running fingers through his hair as he scooted away from her. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Staring at the Quidditch field? Yes, I can see that you're deeply immersed," she mocked, rolling her eyes. "And no, you won't be avoiding me. I was cordial and even gave you some space for a while, something I probably shouldn't have done. Now I'm done waiting though. You're going to answers my questions."
"The fuck I am," he spat, standing as he grabbed his broom. She hopped up immediately and stood in front of him, grabbing his loose Quidditch shirt.
"You're not avoiding me anymore, Scorpius," she spat, catching his attention. "That's right, I used your real name. Now do you mind telling me why you used mine?"
"Why should I?" the blonde spat, narrowing his eyes.
Rose raised an eyebrow. "Because the faster you stop being a prick and avoiding me, and ignoring my questions, the faster I'll leave you alone. And I think you want nothing more than to be alone."
"How intuitive," he sneered, removing her hand from his shirt. "I figured, just as you have discovered, that by using your first name I would have your full attention. It appears to work both ways."
"Of course it does," she agreed, placing her hands on her hips. "Now you never answered my question from the other day; are you jealous of your father?"
The blonde's eyes darkened and he looked away from her. "Don't go there Weasley, it has nothing to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me," she countered. "You kissed me; therefore this whole situation now has to do with me. You dragged me in."
"The intention was to alarm you more than anything else."
"Why?" she asked, leaning in. "I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me Malfoy."
He growled, snapping his head around to look up at her again. "Look Weasley, my father is not an idol. He's not a legacy, a god, or anything of the sort. He's a twisted man with a dark background and clouded sense of judgment. The only reason he was on that fucking beach that day was because my mother told him if he didn't go places with her they were fucking divorcing! So to save himself from the paperwork they went out. Now everyone thinks he's changing his ways, he's dreamy, and that he's a fallen angel, or some other bullshit like that. None of its true; it's all fake stories the press makes up. And out of every fucking girl at this school I thought you would be sensible enough to see through this situation. People like him because he's still toned and he could be changing his ways, becoming a better person. Well, he's not changing one bit, so you can drop your fantasy now. My father is no different than before he went to Azkaban for a second time. He's still confused, afraid, but sneaky and devilish, and that's what keeps putting us on the medias radar. So you can stop fantasizing about my father now Weasley, because he's nothing like you want him to be."
"I don't want him to be anything in particular," she replied, frowning at the idea. "He's only ever been something to look at. I never thought he was really going to change you know. He's the figurehead for bad boy's all over the world, but that's all he'll ever be. He's in his thirties like my parents, and so set in his ways that he's not going to change now."
"How do you know anything about my father?" the blonde asked, narrowing his eyes. "You've never met him."
"No, but I've heard my parents opinions of him, your real opinions of him, and I have my own opinion. He has a wife and a son and he still won't change; I don't think there's anything that's going to make him."
The man laughed coldly, wandering a few feet away. She let him without fear, knowing that this conversation wasn't over. "I'm not jealous of my father," he called, shaking his head. "I'm angry that people are so easily swayed by the media, and I'm angry that people are trying to forget what he really is. I got shit for who he was for years, and now that he's coming back as a supposedly changed man I'm still getting the short end of the stick Weasley. I'm not jealous; I'm angry."
Rose was quiet for a moment, considering his words. "Then why did you kiss me?"
"Because I want you to see the difference!" He turned to her, holding his arms out sideways. "I'm almost a perfect physical match to my father at sixteen, but I'm nothing like him. I might be snarky, rude, and arrogant, but my intentions for my life aren't the same as his were. I have no intention of following my father's footsteps in any way. I'm actually going to try to do something with the family business when I get out of here instead of letting it crash down. I fucking kissed you Rose because I wanted to see if someone could see the difference! I'm always considered to be the same as him, even though we really aren't too similar outside our appearance. But no one sees it that way, not even my friends." He shook his head. "You're supposed to be the upcoming brightest witch in Britain, right after your mother. If anyone is going to see through the facade, see the differences between my father and I, it's going to be you."
Although she wasn't so sure about that, she humored him briefly and looked over the blonde again. This time though, she picked up on more than just the physical similarities.
His face had a softness to it that betrayed emotion, unlike all the snapshot photos of his father she'd ever seen, who always had a stern expression on his face, as though he was waiting for someone to slip up so he could jump at whatever opportunity arose. Scorpius' eyes were a paler grey than the photograph she recalled of his father, who's eyes had a blue tint. There was a childhood innocence about him that his father lacked, his innocence having been stripped from him early on due to the war. While Draco was all about sinister looks and shadowed eyes, Scorpius' expressions were often open, and he didn't wear the same protective veil his father did. Looking at the son before her now, versus the father who's photograph sat upstairs on her bed, she could actually see the slightest differences among him.
Darkness didn't taint the whole of his soul, and looking now she could see that there was the slightest bit of light in him, the deep desire to be recognized as something other than his father's prodigy, a near clone of Draco. He didn't have ice in his soul, and she didn't quite know now if he would be able to pull off the dark feats his father was known for.
For the first time in her life, she really saw Scorpius Malfoy, saw him for who he really was. She approached him, reaching out to gently touch his cheek.
"You don't have to live in your father's shadow you know."
He laughed softly. "Weasley, I've been trying to escape from that spot my entire life."
She nodded, staring at him now as he looked back. And for the first time in years, Scorpius felt like someone was seeing the real him.
A/n: I couldn't even tell you guys the origin of this story. I wrote it to help with my muse towards other stories, and just let the words flow. It's kind of a story on nonsense really, but it was fun to write. Leave a comment would you? Rose/Scorpius really isn't something I tend to write, but I thought I'd at least try my hand at it :)