Although the sun was shining, it was still rather cold. Mid of October, but Rose had insisted on being outside. They were just lucky it wasn't raining anymore.
For an hour now, they'd been lying in the damp grass under a willow next to the lake, not talking, just enjoying each other's company.
Rose lay on her back, her head in Scorpius' lap, eyes closed. Sometimes she wriggled her perfect little nose, with her perfect little freckles scattered all over it, as if she was trying to smell the sun, to catch every ray of it.
"So, Rose?"
"Huh?" She opened her eyes, looking at Scorpius, with her big hazel eyes. Rose was quite a catch and Scorpius could've never even dreamt of calling her his friend. Not his girlfriend. But he was working on that part of their relationship.
"I was wondering... remember that movie we've watched during summer?"
"We've watched like a thousand movies!" Rose chuckled, ruffling his platinum blond hair. A perk of being part-Veela definitely was his ridiculously perfect hair.
"I know! Because we'd been stuck inside. Thank you, rain wizard, for making it rain for two weeks!"
Rose grinned and kissed his chin. "Yeah, must've been hell for you."
"Nah, I enjoyed building pillow forts with you and Al and James. And watching movies, eating popcorn, you reading me your favourite books... Quite nice, actually. Relaxing. Anyway. I've got a question about this one movie."
"Which one? I know you were rather confused after Donnie Darko."
"Yeah, but not that one. It's about Pocahontas. What the hell are the colours of the wind?"
Rose looked at him, startled. "Of all the questions about all the movies we've watched, you're asking about the colours of the wind? Oh Scorp, you really are one of a kind."
He grinned at her, that gorgeous grin which made her heart melt and her mind dizzy. Why hasn't she kissed him already? Yeah, right. Because they were the best of friends.
"Well, not just about the colours of the wind. But also about the blue corn moon, the grinning bobcat, the voices of the mountain..." Scorpius shrugged his shoulders, placing a quick kiss on Rose's auburn curls. They were blowing his mind, every time he looked at them. So perfect and freaky and smooth and all over the place, just like Rose's thoughts were.
"What's your theory then? About the colours of the wind and the voices of the moon?" Rose looked up to him, smiling softly. "Tell me, please. I'd love to know."
"Well, there whole song is about the British coming to America and claiming the New World to be theirs. I got that. But: what is the blue corn moon and why does the wolf cry to it? Okay, because wolves cry to moons but... blue corn moon? Blue corn as in actual corn?"
"Well, the blue moon is the second full moon in the same month. Or the third, can't remember", Rose told him while slightly running her fingers over his thigh.
"And there's also a blue corn dance, which is the dance of the Pueblo Indians."
"How do you know? Oh, scratch that part. You know way too many random facts. Like that a cat would've to eat five mice to get the same nutritional value as in one can of cat food. And you don't even have a cat!"
"Nah, but it's good to know", she grinned at him, "It's good to know that cheetahs can't roar or that printer ink is more expensive than human blood. Who knows when it'll come in handy."
"Probably when you're low on money and have to sell either your blood or printer ink. Though I don't know what a printer ink is."
Laughing, Rose sat up to hug her best friend. "You poor little wizard. You know, when you get an email, and I've shown you emails and the internet, you can get that email out of your computer by pressing a little button. The email then comes out of a second object, the printer. And the ink is just ink inside the printer. Printer ink is black, cyan, magenta and yellow and those colours make all the colours in the world."
"Ah, okay... don't think I'm daft, okay? I just don't know so much about Muggles. And Muggle Studies don't really teach us anything important."
"I know. You're not daft. You're amazing and curious and you ask."
"So maybe the colours of the wind are the colours of a printer?"
"Black, magenta, yellow and cyan? And where do you find that in the wind?" Rose giggled, letting her head sink back into his lap.
"Ehm... the ocean is cyan? And sometimes leaves are yellow. And some flowers are magenta! But I don't think that's what the song means. But! I like your blue corn moon thing. Maybe it's supposed to say this: when you invade our country, you'll steal and kill our culture, the blue corn dance, and you'll never get to see the rare beauty of a second full moon in a month, because all its beauty will be killed by your white selfishness and narcissism. You're desire to find gold, your craving to be the best is going to be the end of beauty."
"I never knew you could be so deep", Rose smiled at her friend, lips curling a bit, as if she was trying to oppress a smirk.
"Always the tone of surprise", he teased her, tickling Rose softly.
"Aw, are you trying to flirt with me, pretty Veela-boy?"
"I might be." Scorpius grinned at her, "Thought that'd be weird, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah... totally weird." Rose nodded lightly, closing her eyes again. "So, we've figured out the blue corn moon. But the grinning bobcat?"
"What's a bobcat anyway?"
"It's a cat."
"No shit, Sherlock", Scorp grinned and ruffled her curls.
"A wild cat! A sort of lynx, with reddish fur."
"And do you know any fun facts about bobcats?"
"Not really... I suppose they act like all lynxes? We could look it up, though. Would you like to? I'm sure there's a book in the library."
"Hmmm..." Scorpius considered it for a minute. He'd love to find out but going to the library meant leaving his comfy spot and, most importantly, it meant not being as close to Rose as he was now."
"We can pick up a book and come back outside? Sounds like a plan?"
"Sounds like a plan", he nodded in approval.
Together they walked to the library, having a look through the tons of books. It was packed with students, quietly whispering. Quills were screeching over parchment, some muffled curse words could be heard here and there. Rose and Scorpius made their way to the section on animals and beasts. There was Dogs And Their Magical Counterparts, Potions Made From European Wild Animals, right next to Cats And The Use Of Their Fur.
"Maybe that one?" Rose whispered as she pulled out American Wild Cats.
"Yeah, let's get that one." He smiled at her, taking the red-head's hand to lead her out of the library.
"Oh no, now it started raining", Rose pouted, "Room of Requirement?"
"Nah, not really in the mood." Scorpius sighed inwardly. The moment was ruined and they wouldn't get into that relaxed and flirty mood so easily again. "I'd suggest the Prefects bathroom. As you remember, I'm Head Boy and I've got some privileges."
"Sounds good!" Rose squeezed his hand. Perfect opportunity to see him shirtless. And Rose sure loved looking at shirtless Scorpius Malfoy. He was a Quidditch Keeper after all, perfectly toned body comes with it.
Little did she know that Scorpius praised her body not less than she praised his.
After casting a spell on the book in order to not get it wet, the pair of them climbed into the huge bath tub. It might've been weird for some people to go bathing with their platonic best friend but Rose and Scorpius had been on so many vacations together, sharing rooms and a bed. It wasn't weird for them. It didn't even occur to the friends that it could be considered strange to see each other in underwear.
"So, does it say something on bobcats?" Scorpius asked as he leaned back in the tub, wriggling his toes.
"It does! I think we've found out about the grinning bobcat." Rose beamed at him, giving him a small peck on the cheek.
"In Native American mythology, a bobcat is usually the fog and most of the time paired up with a coyote, the sign for wind. In some stores they're opposites, in others identical", Rose read to him.
"So... if a bobcat is a coyote which is the wind, the bobcat is the wind. And the colours of the wind are the colours of a bobcat?" Scorpius frowned. "Doesn't seem so logical to me."
"Then what are the colours of the wind?"
"Hmm... the colours of the wind are scents and sounds. There's the scent of wet earth. Do you know who wet earth smells?"
"Of course I know", Rose chuckled, splashing a bit of water at Scorpius, "You Dumbo, of course I know."
"Yeah, but do you know know?"
"I'm not sure what you mean..."
"Wet earth, or rain, smells like childhood. It's comforting, soothing, a safe place. Can the British paint with this colour of the wind? Can they actually provide a safe environment for the Native Americans?"
Rose starred at him in awe. She knew he was brilliant and she loved him either way, but this analysis of a children's movie? This was the boy she was completely and utterly in love with.
Scorpius didn't even notice. There were so many more colours of the wind!
"Then there's the woods. The smell of it is amazing. A mix of grass, flowers, trees' bark, mixed with the sound of birds and the wind, leaves rustling underneath your feet. It's calm and peaceful. Like a melody inside your heart. Can the British provide this in the New World? Can they paint with this colour of the wind?"
Scorpius smiled at her, the smell of Rose and the bubble bath mixing up rather pleasantly. He had to focus to not do anything stupid he'd regret later on.
He had to focus to not focus. To not focus on the little drops of water on Rose's shoulder, not to focus on her scent, her smile, her amazing eyes.
So he kept talking.
"Next colour of the wind: waterfalls. That's quite a big thing in the movie, isn't it? Have you ever smelled a waterfall? It smells breathtaking. Like the sea and heaven mixed together. So powerful and strong, as if it could create a whole universe and yet it's so calm and salty. Like tears. I bet that's what the British can paint with: pain and tears and an unbearable force."
"Scorp?"
"Hmh?"
"You're amazing you are."
He blushed slightly, hugging her. Only for a second, because he was a 17 year old boy and she was half naked, sitting next to him in a hot and steamy tub.
"And I'm not finished yet. Because there is one colour left: fire. Fire has an amazing range. It can smell from comfort to destruction, from a candle in the darkest of nights to a burning wall of fire. It can sound soft, like the soft flickering of our Common Rooms' fire and moments later it can sound like Hell itself. Can the British paint with it?"
Rose lightly bit her lip, trying not to do anything stupid. He had actually cared about her favourite movie enough to think about it, to give her an in-depth analysis of it.
"I think you're right", she smiled, "I think you're brilliant. I could've never come up with that. And usually I'm the weird creative one of us."
"Usually you are. But I have my shining moments", Scorpius grinned at her.
They both let the moment pass. The moment which could have changed everything. The moment which could have improved everything.
But they let it pass, because it wasn't the right thing do to and sooner or later they'd regret it. So Scorpius and Rose just sat there, talking about fun facts and school, about their finals and why pumpkin juice was so much better than apple juice.
Later on, Scorpius accompanied Rose to the Gryffindor Tower, standing with her in front of the portrait.
"Ugh, I really don't wanna do my Astronomy homework", she complained.
"Yeah, talk about it. I still have my Potions essay. Due tomorrow."
"Sucks, doesn't it?" She squeezed his hand before leaning on the wall. As the Fat Lady was gone, Rose could just as well get comfortable waiting for her to return.
"I think I forgot a colour."
"You did? Are you sure?"
"Of course. When we have the fog and the wind, when we have fire, what do we miss?"
"Ice," Rose smiled, sitting down on the floor and dragging Scorpius with her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to talk again.
"Correct. Ice. Ice is just like fire, don't you think? Ice is like fire and waterfalls. It can create and is so so powerful. It can be soothing and help healing wounds but it can just as well be your death. It smells like nothing. Nothing at all. It's wonderful because it's like blank page: it could be everything and nothing. You can put it into any shape you could possibly think of. Little cubes for your drink, mermaids, castles, igloos. Ice is like... like love. It can be anything. It can be small and cute and fierce and strong and it can grow so big that it destroys you. Can the British paint with love?"
This time, Scorpius noticed Rose face.
"What?" he asked, chuckling, "Did I say something wrong?"
"You didn't... you... Merlin, Scorp, I hope I won't regret this."
Rose took a deep breath before she captured his lips with her own.
Scorpius had been right. The colours of the wind, she could feel them.
His lips were like rain; the feeling of security and being home.
His lips were like the woods; soft and a mix of pure emotions. The way he kissed her back, she could only describe it as he described the woods.
His lips were like waterfalls; the skin so soft and yet so hard against her own, creating so much, building up an unbearable amount of dizziness in her head, of tingling in her stomach.
His lips were like fire; hot and soft and they took away her breath.
His lips were like ice because they were like love.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Rose finally broke the kiss.
"Dude, you better not screw it up", she heard her cousin say.
Rose turned around only to find a smirking Albus Potter standing right next to them.
"You better don't screw up."
Scorpius chuckled, put his arm around Rose' shoulder and drew her closer.
"I promise, I won't."
In Rose' opinion, Scorpius had clearly mastered the art to paint with all the colours of the wind. But love was is strongest colour.
