A/N: This is my 50th Harry Potter story. It's actually a continuation/expansion of a drabble I wrote ages ago. It was requested by a reviewer, and I had meant to write this way back then, but never got around to it. So, this is really more for fun than anything. I'm not sure about it, but here it is. There are parts I like a lot, and then...some that I struggled with. I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you guys enjoy it too. R&R! Thanks! ~Mac
Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
Never Say Never Ever
I.
It didn't take long for Rose Weasley to find her footing and adapt to being away from home. Her first year was in full swing and Hogwarts had truly become a home away from home. She now understood what her parents and Uncle Harry had always said about the place. While Albus was already slacking off on assignments less than a month into the term, Rose was excited to do her work, feeling genuinely challenged for the first time in her life. There was always something new to discover in the castle, even with the map James had nicked from his Dad's desk. She was in a constant state of awe—casting her first real spells to glorious effect, staring in wide eyed wonder at the mountains of food at meals, brewing perfectly precise potions, wandering the stacks of the library, and lounging around the Gryffindor common room with her cousins. There was only one sour note to the whole experience and his name was Scorpius Malfoy.
All of the Weasley and Potter kids had heard their parents' tales of their days at Hogwarts. They had heard all about Scorpius's father, Draco Malfoy; how he had spent his school days as a right bully torturing their parents with his less than brilliant wit and venom, how he had become a reluctant participant on the opposing side of the war, and how, since then, he had made great strides toward trying to redeem himself and his family name. Perhaps it was unfair to form assumptions about Scorpius solely from stories about his father, but they were kids and it was hard not to do so. Rose had also received her father's challenge with enthusiasm; identifying the young Malfoy as her rival in all things before they had spoken their first word to each other. They weren't made to be friends, at least not at the start, but by the time a full month had passed into the term, Scorpius was the bane of Rose's existence.
It wasn't even that Scorpius was so awful. He didn't go around spewing prejudiced slurs, he didn't walk around with his nose turned up and a sneer of disgust on his face, he didn't even particularly target Rose and her family until she made it her personal mission to beat him at everything. Rose had marked him, not the other way around. He was a Slytherin, but he was, in many people's opinion, the nicest Slytherin in the history of the House—not that it was a title that required much effort to achieve. It was rumored that the Sorting Hat had almost placed him in Hufflepuff—Hufflepuff, the aghast gossipers would exclaim. Rose didn't buy it, but she couldn't deny that he was far more well mannered than most of the boys his age. No, Scorpius Malfoy was not a rotten, sneaky snake out for blood and humiliation. It didn't stop him from infuriating Rose to no end.
She had, honest to god, never met a person who grated so sharply on her nerves before—and she had grown up beside James and Albus. Just the sound of his name set her on edge. The sight of him made her toes curl. It would have been easier if he was cold and cruel, if she could have some built in reason to detest him so. One that wouldn't make her sound like a whiny brat.
The trouble with Scorpius was that he made it too easy for her. She supposed that it wasn't entirely his fault that her father issued his challenge before they knew anything about Scorpius, but she had come in with expectations. She couldn't help it when she felt disappointed that he didn't live up to them. Rose wanted to win, she wanted to beat him, but half the time he wasn't even playing the game. Rose earned higher marks, not by sheer will and brilliance, but because he flubbed assignments as often as Albus. Rose worked her cauldron with careful precision until her concoctions were flawless, at a level beyond students several years her seniors, but his lazy potion making skills were so sloppy he only just kept his mixtures from blowing up the classroom. Rose spent days on her essays, writing and rewriting until her professors looked exhausted just looking at the extra inches on her parchment scroll; he turned his in an inch short and a day late. It wasn't just in the case of academics either. Rose followed every rule, obeyed every command, and kept her record clear so that she would be first choice for Prefect when the time came; his flagrant disregard for even the most basic rules was frustrating to her in it of itself. Rose maneuvered her broom with grace and skill; he barely had the patience to command his to his hand from the ground. Rose was beyond distressed over his lack of effort. She wanted more from him. She wanted him to rise to her level, to motivate her higher, to actually challenge her just the slightest bit. At this rate, Albus was going to beat Scorpius at everything as well, without even trying.
That was when Scorpius was oblivious to their "unspoken" rivalry. When he realized what was happening, it only got worse. It was one thing when it was just his natural disposition keeping him mediocre. Once he started to act deliberately, Rose wanted to rip her hair out. In class, when Rose's hand would shoot in the air at rapid speed, Scorpius would lazily raise his as well. After a few sessions of class, their professors had started to overlook Rose's ever present raised hand in hopes of gaining participation from other students. So, in a choice between Rose and Scorpius, he always got called on first. The first few times he was chosen over her, it made her stomach clench with anxiety and her breath catch as she feared he would finally get something over her. It was an unwarranted fear, because each time he would meet Rose's eyes across the room, and answer incorrectly. Even when he knew the answer, even when she knew that he knew the answer, he would get it wrong. It made the blood boil in her veins. It made her want to scream like a banshee. It made her want to chuck her largest, heaviest, most unruly textbook right at the back of his perfect little head, an urge which made her want to apologize to her textbook for even considering to use it in violence. Scorpius had no right to have such and effect on her, but he did, and it put a damper on her mood faster than rain on Quidditch day.
It was also exceedingly annoying that she was, quite literally, the only person that had a problem with Scorpius. Everyone, her cousins included, thought she was being unreasonable. They sought to change her mind about him, but Rose was determined to hold her grudge until the end of time. Scorpius had already burrowed under her skin; she refused to let him have access to any other part of her or her life. Still, her stubborn streak matched that of her cousins, and they were just as determined to make her see the light. They were at a stand still.
One particular evening, Rose was working on an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts in the common room. James and Albus had joined her by the fireplace to work on their own assignments, although, thus far that had amounted to them pulling out parchment and quills and little else. At some point, the conversation had turned and though she was only half listening to the others talk, Rose's ears perked up when she heard them mention Scorpius's name somewhere in the middle.
"I actually kind of like the little bugger," James said. "He could do without the slicked back look, and he could smile a bit more, but he's alright."
"I don't know why you can't stand him, Rosie," Albus said, making her look up at him from her essay. "He's an easy going bloke. If you gave him a chance—"
"I don't want to," Rose replied.
"But if you gave him a chance," Albus repeated anyway, risking the wrath of his cousin. "I think you could like him. He's mostly friendly. If you said more than two words to him, you might—"
"I won't," Rose assured.
"But you could—"
"I won't."
"Honestly, Rose—"
"It's not going to happen, Al."
"You don't know—"
"I will never, ever like Scorpius Malfoy," Rose squealed to the entire Gryffindor Tower so loudly it would not have surprised anyone present if the sound traveled all the way to the dungeons where the first year Slytherin could hear the declaration. She stood abruptly from her chair, gathered her things, and stalked away in a huff. "I repeat, never ever."
That shut them up at least as effectively as a well placed Stupefy. Even if her ill opinion was unfounded, they now realized that convincing her of that was a lost cause. Bothering her with it any further would only sour her opinion of them and none of them wanted that. So, they stopped trying and left Rose in peace on that subject. They had far better things to bug her with anyway.
It would be several years before Rose would have to revisit the subject.
II.
There was something about Fourth Year, something about that purgatory that was the transition between childhood and adolescence. Rose called it puberty; everyone else thought that was too clinical an explanation. Whatever it was, whatever they called it, it was certainly at play on the grounds of Hogwarts. Once sensible classmates were now swooning at the sight of the opposite sex. The less than sensible, on a normal day, were not salivating over the subjects of their affections so excessively they practically foamed at the mouth like a raving dog. Hogsmeade weekends were now a whole grand affair. Rose's dormitory was a flurry of activity in preparation for hours to create powdered, primped and made up versions of he fellow Gryffindor girls that were only meant to hold up for thirty minutes in Madam Puddifoot's or a quick stroll through Hogsmeade. It was insanity. It was raging hormones. The only person who seemed to be immune to the whole ordeal was Rose Weasley.
Rose would be the first person to admit that she had, in fact, been affected by the changing tides at Hogwarts. She was just better at keeping her cool under pressure. She was better at hiding her more heated or indecent thoughts and urges. If she expected to retain even a modicum of her dignity, then she could not give into them. She had refined taste; she refused to let herself be reduced to a whimpering fool by the drooling boys who wanted nothing more than a quick snog under the Quidditch Pitch or in any old storage cupboard. She was above it all. The other girls in her year were not.
"I think we can all agree that James Potter is fit," one said. "He's only a year older, so he's not entirely out of our league."
"But still older!" another added, earning a round of giggles.
"His brother is in our year, though," a third chattered on. "He still has his baby cheeks, but I imagine he'll be quite handsome once he grows into them."
Rose knew it was childish, but she wanted to cover her ears and sing "Hoggy Warty Hogwarts" until talk turned away from her cousins' eligibility. She was just glad these girls were sticking to blokes their age and older, because she was certain mentions of her brother would overturn her stomach more effectively than a Puking Pastille. Luckily, the girls departed from Rose's family members and moved on to more stomachable subjects of observation.
"What about the Scamander boys?"
"They're so eerily intriguing."
"I prefer Lorcan."
"But they're identical," Rose interjected, contributing to the conversation for the first time since it started.
"They're still very different."
"They finish each others sentences," Rose said.
"They each have a different air about them."
"The air around them is different?" Rose frowned.
"You can honestly say you can't tell the difference between the two?"
"'Course I can tell the difference between them, but how I do had nothing to do with air," Rose replied. "Lorcan has a scar across his left eyebrow from that time in second year when they sneaked out to the Forbidden Forest to search for some, something or other, and he tripped over a tree root. At least that was their story."
"And you remember that?"
"She remembers everything."
"It's true."
"I do remember everything," Rose rolled her eyes. "And if I remember correctly, both Lorcan and Lysander have spent about as much time staring at my cousins as you lot, do with that what you will."
"If you do know everything, then I suppose you know everything about Scorpius Malfoy."
"Oh, yes, Scorpius. He's the one we should really be talking about."
"Even if the others can't turn your head, then he must."
"Gods, no," Rose scowled.
"What could possibly be wrong with Scorpius?"
"There isn't something wrong with him."
"There's something wrong with Rose."
"There is nothing wrong with me," Rose exclaimed. "I just don't see the appeal of Scorpius."
"Well, for starters, he's gorgeous."
"And he's a sweetheart."
"Not to mention, if the rumors are true, he's a—"
"—I don't care what the rumors say, I don't care if he's attractive, I don't care how sweet he is," Rose shook her head. "I will never ever like Scorpius Malfoy."
"Blimey, Rose, you don't have to like him."
"He's just got to rile you up enough to be worth your time."
"Imagine if I properly fancied all the blokes I've had a good snog with. You're hilarious, Rose."
After that, the conversation shifted a little and Rose found her way out of it. That should have been the end of it. Rose had far better things to occupy her time, far more important things that should have been on her mind, but, somehow, Scorpius kept slipping back in. Over the years, he had become less of nuisance, partially because he had taken greater care in his academics since first year and partially because Rose couldn't find it in herself to care quite as much. He still annoyed her, he still teased her with his deliberate moments of ignorance, but these were things that lingered in the peripheral of her life. All it had taken was one silly conversation and he was glued to the back of her eyelids once again.
The problem was that Scorpius was as attractive as those girls suggested. At some point in the past few years, he had stopped taking style cues from his father and looked all the better for it. While Albus and most other boys their age were still adorable with their boyish looks, Scorpius had matured physically much sooner. He had a way about him that not even the older boys could claim. Rose had given the girls a hard time over the air about the Scamander twins, but she knew what they meant. She just didn't agree with it when it came to Lorcan and Lysander. Now Scorpius, on the other hand, had something in the way he carried himself. His presence had a weight to it. Rose could see all that, perhaps even better than the other girls, but it didn't matter how attractive Scorpius was—or how attractive she found him—because she had promised herself that she would never ever like him. She saw no reason to break that promise over good looks and a charming smile.
It wasn't enough. Rose wanted more than someone who was only good for silly daydreams and something to stare at. So, it was frustrating that a few well placed comments had tripped her up. She found herself daydreaming about him when he wasn't around and staring at him when he was. It had to stop there; she wouldn't let it go any further, because she still believed those words she had declared to the common room in her first year. Rose believed them, because she knew everything just like they said, and she was never wrong. Especially true, she knew herself and she was never wrong about herself.
It would be several years before Rose learned just how wrong she could be.
III.
Rose Weasley was eating her words now, as her Seventh Year drew to a close. She was not accustomed to this feeling. As Head Girl, and top of her class, she so rarely had an opportunity to feel it. But there she was, and she could clearly see where she had gone wrong and how she had gotten there, which did not make it any easier to stomach the taste.
The problem arose from her heart's decision to completely deviate from her mind's unamendable declaration some years earlier. She should have known better, she was smarter than this, and her mother had taught her to never say never, because a person couldn't be certain of the future. Even the most impossible feats could be accomplished with the right focus, determination and courage. They were all proof of that. Rose adamantly believed in that uncertainty of the future; it was why she steered clear of Divination throughout her years at Hogwarts. But she had let that childish use of never ever leave her lips and she regretted it now, because she knew as well as anyone that the world cared very little for the plans one tried to make. Only, it turned out it wasn't just the world working against her; she had turned traitor on herself.
It had taken her all the way to her seventh year to realize her mistake, because it wasn't until then that she allowed herself anywhere near Scorpius. As Head Girl and Head Boy, Rose and Scorpius were supposed to set an example of unity between Houses. They had worked in the vicinity of each other as Prefects, but only briefly and with obvious reluctance. Thrust into their new positions of leadership, they were forced to actually regard each other with more than curious glances from afar. They had to work together which meant they had to spend time in each others' company and talk to each other. It was the first time they had ever done so, and Rose learned that it was quite possible that she was wrong and that she knew nothing at all—at least, when it came to Scorpius.
Her biggest mistake was that when she laid her foundation for her position against Scorpius, she had done so with rumors, passive observations, and assumptions. Some had been her own, most had been from others. She did all of this without speaking a word to him outside of the classroom. She did it without knowing him at all. It worked because he was always at a distance. She knew him as an idea, a theory, a caricature of what she wanted him to be rather than what he truly was.
This year, their final year, Rose had finally gotten close enough to actually see him. Now she couldn't unsee him.
As the girls back in fourth year claimed, Scorpius was a sweetheart. Rose had always known he was nice, sweet, charming and the like. It used to annoy her, because it would have been easier to want to beat him at everything if he was none of those things. Now, when he was nice directly to her, it warmed her all the way to her toes. He knew exactly how to make a person feel special. And it wasn't phony, it wasn't an act. Everything he said, he said with genuine sincerity. He called everything as he saw it, and spoke with honesty all the time. Rose especially liked the way he saw her.
He was also just as attractive as ever, if not a thousand times more so. Up close, Rose was able to get a real look at him and she never regretted a moment when her eyes found their way to him. His hair looked so soft that she wanted to spend hours threading her fingers through it. He was built, muscular, strong form playing Quidditch and his own personal exercise routine. There was no denying the body he had on him. He bit his lip a lot, Rose noticed, especially when he worked—something he tried far harder at as time went on, though he never would get close to Rose's level of academic success. This mattered very little, except that it drew her attention to his lips and his lips made her think about wanting to kiss him. Before, she resented him for how good looking he was, because she didn't need to get up close and personal to know that he was, and she couldn't reconcile the way she felt about him physically and the way she felt about him otherwise.
Now, she could, because her desire for him came not just from her eyes and head, but also from her heart. She liked him, plain and simple. He made her feel things she never felt were possible. It angered her and terrified her, but most of all it thrilled her.
Rose was lost in daydreams whenever Scorpius entered the room. She flushed bright red whenever he touched her, accidentally or with purpose, it didn't matter so long as his hands were on her. She feared she would swoon every time he smiled at her. She felt her heart flutter whenever her name passed his lips. He had and undeniable effect on her, but she had lost all confidence in herself when she realized how wrong she was about him. She didn't trust her perception of him. So, as profound as his effect was on her, she had no idea how he felt about her. She couldn't even begin to fancy a guess, because she didn't think she would survive being wrong again.
All she knew, all she was comfortable admitting, was that if Scorpius ever showed any sign of returning her feelings, Rose would never ever say never again.
IV.
Thankfully, Rose didn't have to wait several years to find out where all of this might lead.
N.E.W.T.s were fast approaching and after a heartfelt request was made, Rose agreed to help Scorpius to study for Transfiguration, the course he struggled with the most that last year. She had agreed, because he was amiable when he asked for her assistance and because she enjoyed having an excuse to spend even more prolonged time with him, as the year was almost over. They met in the library and went over the most recent lessons thoroughly. In between their vigorous study sessions, they would find moments to have conversations that didn't involve classwork. Rose particularly liked those moments and the insights they brought her about Scorpius, but never had she liked one so much as this one.
"There's one more Hogsmeade weekend before exams," Scorpius said as they left the library one evening. They had fallen in step together as they embarked down the corridor. Soon they would have to part ways.
"Yes there is," Rose agreed. "It'll be good to have a day of leisure before the more intensive studying begins."
"Studying can get more intensive?" Scorpius crooked up an eyebrow and laughed at the expression Rose sent him in response.
"You haven't seen anything yet, Mr. Malfoy," Rose said, but shared a laugh with him anyway.
"Anyway," Scorpius said, his strides slowing before coming to a stop. "About Hogsmeade..."
Rose stopped beside him and searched his face, her expression questioning.
Scorpius met her eyes straight on, not breaking their gaze even as he reached out to tuck some of her hair, come loose from her braid, behind her ear. "You see, I would invite you to accompany me to Hogsmeade, but there's this rumor circulating that you could never ever like me, so I suppose it would be foolish to try, unless—"
"Where did you hear that?" Rose questioned with a frown.
"Well, from quite a few Gryffindors our first year, after they supposedly heard you yell it to the world from the top of Gryffindor Tower. Again, in fourth year, from a girl who tried to coax me into a mind flirtation. I had to refuse on the grounds that, at the time, I fancied another girl," Scorpius explained. "I'll admit I haven't heard it any time recently, so it's possible that things have changed since—"
"They have!" Rose exclaimed, then calmed herself. She took a deep breath, licked her lips and clarified. "Changed, I mean. Things have—I have—I've changed my mind about you."
"So, if I asked you—" Scorpius began.
"Yes!" Rose broke in before he could finish.
"Could you at least let me ask the question before you gave me your answer?" Scorpius held back a laugh with a wide grin. "I know you have an obsession with beating me, but beating me to the end of my sentence is a bit excessive, don't you think?"
"I'm sorry," Rose blushed. She waved her hand at him to continue. "Proceed."
"Would you, Rose Weasley, do me the great honor of being my date to Hogsmeade?" Scorpius asked.
"Yes," Rose said, breaking into a matching smile. "I would love to."
They stood there in silence, smiling ridiculous smiles at each other in the middle of the corridor. Rose wanted to say something, but the warmth in her chest and the butterflies in her stomach made it hard to breathe, let alone speak. Scorpius found his tongue first. His hand reached up to cup her cheek, tilting her chin up toward him.
"I know we've yet to have our first date, but would you mind so much if I were to—"
As an answer to the second question she didn't let him finish, Rose rose up onto her toes and kissed him. His hand moved from her cheek, to the back of her neck to pull her closer as he deepened the kiss, and then to tug gently on her braid until she smiled against his lips. It was the perfect first kiss, far superior to anything she might have experienced had she given into those girls back in fourth year and not waited for her heart to prove the rest of her wrong.
In that moment, Rose found she had been wrong once again. She had to break one more promise that she had made herself. She had to allow herself one last time to say never ever, because she new right then that she was never ever going to let Scorpius get any further away from her than that.
-fin-