I still remember the nicest thing he ever said to me. Maybe it is because it was – and still is – the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Maybe it was because he said it. I still do not know whether he said it in jest. No matter, I took it to heart.

It was in health class. I know what you are thinking, Hogwarts, health class? But, after Joan Hammond, president of the celibacy club, became pregnant and continued to claim she was a virgin; Brianna Skyers was caught for the seventh time, by her head of house, in the girls bathroom with her finger down her throat; Sasha Palmer and Noah Koller were walked in on by an entire class of first years; and Joshua Brennan was carted off to St. Mungo's because he had a thing for razor blades, Dumbledore decided that it would be beneficial to have all students participate in a health class. In the letter that went home to parents, he stressed that students of different grade levels would have different curriculums based on what was seen as appropriate for them.

So, I, Rose Weasley, seventh year Ravenclaw, was forced to sit through a health class three days a week. We had been given a syllabus at the beginning of the term. We were going to learn about self-esteem, nutrition, drugs and alcohol (which is funny because at least half of us were of age), sexually transmitted diseases and sex. This last topic made me nervous. The others I could handle. But, I could barely keep a straight face through "the talk" my mother and father had given me. It was hilarious. My mother treated sex like it was a virus that I might contract and my father, sitting there, red in the face, clearing his throat now and then, and looking as if he would rather battle Voldemort all over again then sit through this.

But learning about sex with all my classmates? I knew the mechanics of it, why did I have to learn about it again? It turns out, that, by the time the sex unit came around, I knew more than just the mechanics of sex and had a wonderfully chiseled shoulder to lean my face into while it heated up with embarrassment and suppressed laughter. But, that is later, the end of the beginning of my story. I have to go to the beginning of the beginning of my story.

I walked into health class that first day. They had brought some lady over from America to teach the class. I guess Yankees are less uptight about that kind of stuff than the British. She seemed nice enough and I hoped she would be a good teacher. I took a seat at the back of the room. The classroom continued to fill up and I waited, patiently, listening to the buzz of chatter around me.

The professor entered and she immediately earned a strike against her. In her hand was, you got it, a seating plan. She claimed that she had done it based on picking names out of a hat. I was not so sure. Instead of a nice desk in the back of the classroom, I got one smack dab in the middle of the second row. It seems as if the Slytherins had class with us as well, because I recognized the girl with the pug-ish looking nose who was sitting next to me from around school.

I looked around the room, hoping that I would not be too embarrassed by my seat, that there would be no one of consequence around to see me blush. Not such luck. He was sitting on the other side of me. In all his pale glory with that white blonde hair of his and chiseled features.

My cousin Al (well, Albus Severus Potter, if you want to get technical) had been sorted into Slytherin and this bloke sitting next to me had ended up his best friend. Because Al was my cousin, Scorpius Malfoy and I were on first name basis. That is, when I was not completely tongue tied around him.

The Professor pulled a stool out from behind her desk and sat down. "Today," she said,
"we will begin our first unit: body image ad self-esteem." There were titters heard throughout the class. She glared at us. "You may laugh, but most people your age have very low self-esteem and a low self- image."

Malfoy leaned across the aisle to grin at me. "Hey, Rose. Do you like your body?"

I decided to tell the truth. "No. Most of the time I don't."

He gave me an appraising look, his eyes sweeping up and down my form. Smirking at me, he responded, "You should."

I decided to see how far I could take this game. "Why?"

He looked at me again and I saw it. That primal look that I always wanted to see in his eyes when he looked at me but was never there. "Just, because."

I snorted at his articulate reply. "Okay, whatever you say, Scor."

He grinned at me. I turned back to my notes, trying, - futilely, I am sure – to hide the blush covering my face.

A few minutes later, a folded note landed in front of me. I looked around curiously bfore opening it.

Will you go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?

~S.M.

I looked up again and this time, he met my eyes, a bit defiantly, as if daring me to laugh in his face. I nodded a blush tingeing my face pink again, and he grinned.

A/N: So, this is not how I expected it to take me. I was going to have it more like the situation that I was using for my muse but, it didn't want to do that. I do, however like it a lot. I might add more, it depends on how many reviews I get. (that is a hint)