Shlimazl (Yiddish): A chronically unlucky person

Rose didn't know how these things always happened to her. It wasn't enough, apparently, that she'd managed to leave her best cloak at home. It wasn't enough she nearly missed the train trying to find her dropped glasses which she didn't even wear anyways. It wasn't enough that she'd tripped over a couple of second years while trying to find the right compartment.

No, as it happened, fate had decided to be particularly cruel that day.

Because she did manage to find the prefects' carriage. And there was only one boy in it.

Stupid Scorpius Malfoy and his stupid big blond head and his stupid Head Boy badge.

He groaned when he saw her. "Say it isn't so," he whinged.

She sneered. "Oh, get over yourself, Malfoy."

For the past seven years, they had made sure to tell each other just how unsavory they found one another. And they found each other highly, highly unsavory.

Rose combed her fingers through her hair in a small attempt to calm herself and sat across from Scorpius. They glared at each other for an eternity, but it was Rose who finally broke away.

"You know what, Malfoy, we're going to be working together for the whole year. We have to at least pretend to be civil."

He rolled his eyes but he also didn't glare at her again.

Backpfeifengesicht (German): A face badly in need of a fist

Being heads with Scorpius Malfoy had brought new levels of frustration into Rose's life. How the boy ever managed to earn a prefect's badge was beyond her, much less the Head Boy title. Always late to meetings, constantly skipping out on his patrol duties, and always rubbing in her face whoever it was he seemed to be snogging at the moment.

Really she didn't even know why that last part bothered her so much. It was just that he always seemed so terribly smug about it. As though he knew how much it riled her.

Then there was the matter of sharing a common room. It was as though whenever she wanted to study, he would appear with three other people and talk louder than usual, laugh more than usual. Whenever she came back to the common room after what had felt like the never-ending day, not much in the mood to talk to anybody, and particularly not the blond-haired prat she shared a common room with, said blond-haired prat would go out of his way to pester her.

"You look like you could use a Pepper-Up potion. Or a face lift."

"Oh, shove off, would you, Malfoy? I'm really not in the mood."

"Like you're ever 'in the mood,'" he replied rather suggestively.

She glowered at him. "You are playing a dangerous game, Malfoy."

"Is that a threat, Weasley?" Had he always towered over her like this? She didn't remember him being so… imposing. When had he stopped being so, well, scrawny?

Rose spoke through gritted teeth. "You are such a prat."

"Who me?" He feigned surprise. "This coming from the girl who just threatened me. After all, I hadn't thought violence was your style." He gave her the once-over. "In fact, I'd say you didn't have much of a style at all, for that matter."

His face was so stupidly smooth-looking, with his lips curling into that ridiculous evil smile of his. She supposed, in a different context, it wouldn't have been particularly evil looking, but given the situation, she felt the need to knock it off of his face.

So she punched him. Hard.

Won (Korean): The reluctance on a person's part to let go of an illusion

Rose wasn't quite sure when things began to change between them. It seemed after they'd returned from the winter holidays, he'd started being much more civil. Mature, even. It baffled Rose, made her suspicious- and yet, she couldn't help but enjoy the new dynamic a bit.

Because he no longer threw girls in her face, or brought little parties into the common room. In fact, they'd even begun using the space to study- together. And the arguing, while ever-present, had stopped being so irksome and seemed more like the banter of friends. Maybe even good friends.

Rose found herself fighting her knee-jerk reactions of glaring in his general direction or flinching when he got a little too close. After all, they'd spent years being the opposite of cordial to one another. It was hard for her brain to process this new way of looking at him. Because now he was no longer a person of contempt to her. She'd never admit it out loud, of course, but she was getting rather fond of his company. Their study sessions, the prefects' meetings they now ran in tandem, and, just once, a breakfast shared at the Slytherin table.

"To discuss our next meeting," had been Rose's explanation. Only, the subject had changed so quickly from Head-duties to the Quidditch match to this book Rose had read to the way Scorpius used cutlery like they were still in the Victorian age, and so on. And even though Scorpius made that devilish smile she'd come to hate over the years, she found that it was getting easier to suppress the automatic feeling of dislike in which her body had been trained.

Mokita (New Guinean): the truth everyone knows but nobody says

"He fancies her. Strange, isn't it?"

"No, no, no. You've got it backwards. She fancies him and it's really quite pitiful." The speaker was none other than Tilda Ludwig, one of Scorpius's former flames.

"You sure? Because he seems to be the one always following her around and all."

Tilda huffed. "Hardly. He just doesn't have the heart to tell the girl off." Nevertheless, she glanced over her shoulder, where Rose and Scorpius sat at a table together, laughing to one another. "He doesn't fancy her. I'm sure of it."

"I don't know, I think they'd be kind of cute togeth-"

Her friend was cut off by the loud thump of Tilda's potions textbook being slammed against the table. Other library-goers turned to stare but Tilda took no notice.

"He doesn't fancy her, okay?"

Mamihlapinatapei (Yagan): The wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start

"Something kind of funny happened today," said Rose, breaking the silence that had fallen between them during their studying.

"Yeah?" He looked up at her from his parchment and Rose felt a lump form in her throat.

She nodded. "Yeah." He was looking at her so expectantly, and now she was certain she shouldn't bring up the topic at all. But now she'd started, and though she wracked brain for something, anything else to talk about, she drew a blank.

"Well, it's just that Triss MacMillan asked me if we were, well, dating." Rose tried to read Scorpius's facial expression and hoped hers was just as neutral, even if she could feel that burning sensation in her ears.

After a moment he cleared his throat. "That is funny. Because Hector Nott asked me the same thing the other day."

And though they had both agreed that it was funny, there was a noticeable lack of laughter. Rose could feel herself breathing heavily as she looked up, her gaze stuck on his. They were really seated much too close together, Rose thought. There they were, sitting on the floor on the same side of the coffee table. Not very conducive to studying at all, when she thought about it. Because how was she supposed to focus when he smelled so damn good? When his hands glided over his parchment so gracefully?

Rose knew if she was a Gryffindor she would have kissed him right then and there. But she was a Ravenclaw. Too sensible for her own good.

Instead, she let her eyes linger a moment longer on his, trying to look for meanings but once again, as always, met with more questions than answers.

"It's very funny, really," Rose said and she turned back to her work. Scorpius followed suit. A few minutes later he silently gathered his things and went into his room.

Waldeinsamkeit (German): The feeling of solitude in a forest

"Rose, I really think we ought to talk," he'd said.

"About?"

At this point he'd cocked his head to the side and done something funny. He'd grabbed her hand in his. She could only stare at their folded hands.

"I think we should talk about us, as terribly cliche as that sounds." He'd sent her one of those goofy grins which she didn't return.

Her brow had furrowed. "But we're not dating."

He smiled. "That's the thing. I think we should be." Her eyes had widened. He pulled her closer. "I really, really like you, Rose." Oh, and his voice had been so, so soft.

But Rose was the logical one. She knew it would never have worked between them, never would have been functional, even. It was just that they were so very different, even if they got on well. He wasn't the relationship type. He was the snog-a-girl-and-be-done-with-her sort. And Rose, Rose had only kissed one boy in her whole life. Scorpius was sarcastic and haughty and walked like he was so sure of his purpose, and she was all over the place; quick-tempered, sometimes quiet and sometimes very loud. And he held his fork like he was the goddamn queen of England.

Besides, dating one of your favorite friends was a recipe for disaster, because once you broke up (which you inevitably would, or so Rose reasoned) you could never be as close again, never quite as honest and open. And Rose would miss him terribly.

Then, of course, was the whole other issue of family dynamics…

Rose resigned herself, even though his words and his hand made her feel giddy and warm. "Scorpius," she said, pulling her hand out of his gentle touch, "It's not that I don't enjoy your company. But-"

"Oh, don't pretend, Rose. You fancy me the way I fancy you," he interrupted, looking a little annoyed.

"I never said that," Rose replied cooly. "I just don't think a relationship between us would ever really work out. Why bother? Why ruin a good thing?"

"That's utterly ridiculous, and you know it," said Scorpius, and Rose bit her lip as she noticed the hurt expression he was trying to hide.

But Rose was known for her resolve. "I think maybe we ought to spend less time together. You should start seeing other people, and all that. To make it easier."

His jaw had nearly fallen off.

There was more, but that was the part of the scene Rose kept replaying, over and over and over, as she sat with her back against a thick tree trunk. The Forbidden Forest was the only place she was certain she wouldn't have to run into him, and the cool air helped keep her head clear, she liked to think.

What was wrong with her? A boy, and the object of her affections, no less, reveals his feelings to her and all she can think about is how she's going to let him down?

Rose had come to the forest to be alone. Only, surrounded by trees on all sides, she felt strangely lost, as though she'd been swallowed. She'd sought out solitude, but now she felt overwhelmed by it. She knew if it was possible she would have drowned in the feeling of being so very alone.

Saudade (Portuguese): A deep emotional state of nostalgia or longing for an absent someone or something

She hadn't realized how integrated into her life he'd become. How she'd enjoyed walking to breakfast with him in the morning and finding him already in the common room after dinner, half studying and half waiting for her. He used to make funny faces at her from across the classroom in Transfiguration. He used to write notes and hide them in her textbook for her to find.

And now?

Nothing.

Suddenly he was always missing. She woke up, he was already gone. She kept glancing at him in class but his gaze was always so deliberately trained on the blackboard. Their common room was always empty when she came back to it. At the prefect meetings they never once made eye contact.

And she felt the ache, the lonesome echo inside of her. She hadn't realized it but he'd become her best friend, and now she'd let him go. Pushed him away, even.

And then she heard he was taking Mallory Hopkiss to Hogsmeade next weekend and she had to physically restrain herself from thumping her head against her desk.

They used to be so close, and now she only saw him in glimpses, across bodies of people. In all of their years, they'd been familiar with one another, even if it was as rivals or agitators. It had been a very long time since they'd had the relationship they shared now- that of strangers.

She'd told him they couldn't date because she hadn't wanted to jeopardize their friendship… only to produce the same effect.

Saturday morning came and she walked down the hall and stopped dead at the sight of Scorpius with Mallory, apparently sharing some sort of joke as she threw back her head and laughed. Rose bit her lip and willed herself to disappear, to be swallowed whole by the floorboards, anything. But she couldn't look away, and then Scorpius looked up and their eyes met. Rose curtly nodded and promptly went back to bed.

She'd never been the overly sentimental type, so she'd never felt such sorrow, such longing before. She was unaccustomed to feeling the absence of someone so very strongly.

Madrugada (Spanish): The period between late-night and early morning

"Merlin, Rose. You're still awake?" Scorpius had just entered their common room to find Rose pouring over her textbook. It was the first time he'd spoken a word to her outside of Head business.

She nodded. "Potions is my worst subject."

"'Worst' being a relative term," he scoffed. "Besides, the N.E.W.T.s aren't for a few more days. No need to kill yourself yet."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "So then where have you been, if you weren't studying this whole time?"

He dropped himself onto the sofa. "I was studying. For a while, anyways."

"And then?"

"And then I wasn't." It came out sounding rather clipped and rude. "Sorry. Really I just got too tired to think straight and fell half asleep for a while."

She gave a small laugh and started collecting her things.

"Rose-"

"I'm tired." Her voice was a little too loud in the still common room.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Me, too." But he didn't move from his seat on the sofa and she didn't resume stacking her things. She avoided his eyes until she couldn't anymore.

"It's funny," he said after a moment, "I feel tired but I also feel like I couldn't sleep, not yet."

"I get that," said Rose, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

He stood. "Do you- er, would you like to get some fresh air?"

Rose's heart was pounding so rapidly she was sure she was on the verge of a heart attack. "Yeah, okay."

They walked wordlessly through the cool corridors, down the winding staircases, until they were out in the open. The sky was just beginning to brighten. In the chilly early morning (or was it still late at night?) the only sounds were of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Rose shivered and noticed Scopius doing the same. He caught her looking.

"Do you ever miss me?"

She would never understand how he could get his voice to be so soft.

"Every day. All the time."

"Then why don't you ever say anything?"

Was he always standing this close?

"I didn't know what to say." She felt goosebumps on her arms and wasn't sure they were just from the cool air.

"I missed you, too." Her breath hitched as he reached out and stroked her forearm. Despite the cold, his hand was so very warm. "Merlin, Rose. You're freezing."

She shrugged. "It's not that bad."

"Always so stubborn. It's what got us into this mess to begin with, isn't it?"

Rose nearly burst. "I was an idiot, Scorpius. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have said any of those things. I was just- just so-"

He grinned. "Scared. I understand. It's scary." He once again clasped her hand in his, and Rose was reminded of the night he'd confessed to her, the night she'd pushed him so very far away. "But the question is," he leaned in so she could feel his breath on her ear, "Are you still scared?"

She answered by planting her lips squarely on his.

Cafuné (Brazilian Portuguese): The act of tenderly running one's fingers through someone's hair

She used to think she was the unluckiest person on the planet. But she was learning that despite her intelligence, there were a lot of things she was mistaken about. For instance, it was once a firmly held belief of hers that Scorpius Malfoy had a perfectly punchable face. And she used to believe it was better to run at the first sight of feelings she wasn't sure she could handle.

Yeah, she'd been wrong about a lot of things.

"I wish I could explain properly how perfectly happy I am right now," she murmured against his chest. "So perfectly content."

She felt him smile against her head. "I know, I know, I know." She felt his fingers running through her hair. Gently. Sweetly.

"Rose, look," he whispered. She opened her eyes and saw the light starting to fill the sky.

"Sunrise."

AN: Hope you enjoyed this cheesiness. Please drop a review to let me know what you think! More "Caterer" soon.

GCP