Rose hopped on her bicycle and pedaled madly away. Living in a muggle neighborhood prevented her from perusing her broomstick freely, and she knew her mum would have a coronary if she attempted to fly in the house.
The wind blew her hair into her face and she had to stop to tie it back. The bike was her only escape on days like this, when Hugo had gone to Uncle Harry's, and her mum and dad would stop bickering only long enough to ask her, "Right, Rosie?" and then she'd never hear the end of it.
So the minute she heard the jar of jam drop, and her mum's excited shriek of "Look, Ron!" and the beginnings of her dad's rant on Bulgarians, she flew out the back door. She really didn't care if the Bulgarian team's coach fancied her mum; if he got them tickets for the World Cup, she was definitely going.
She pedaled down the road to the ice cream shop where she and Al spent most of their summer holidays when they needed to escape from the madness. Rose locked her bike to a lamppost and headed inside.
There was only one other person inside the shop. Well, two really, if you counted the blue-haired cashier who had so many piercings in him that Rose was sure he'd swell if someone dropped him into the ocean.
The other person was Scorpius Malfoy.
He hadn't seen Rose yet, and she took full advantage of this. As she whirled around and pretended to be highly interested in the fridge full of ice-cream filled cupcakes, a fleeting thought crossed her mind. Maybe it wasn't Malfoy after all. Maybe it was just another skinny, scrawny bloke who bleached his hair. After all, loads of weird people came here, and compared to the cashier, bleaching one's hair was nothing. She decided she was overreacting. After all, why would Malfoy, of all people, come to a Muggle ice cream shop? It was absurd.
That thought fresh in her head, she walked up to the counter. The smell of fresh fruit and cold sugar mingled with the tantalizing aroma of hot fudge. Rose suddenly realized she was very hungry: a result of her skipping lunch because of her mum's preoccupation and Rose's lifelong hatred of cooking.
She asked for a large Mixee with bits of chocolate and strawberry. The cashier made it slowly and recited her total in a bored voice. After she'd paid, she scanned the tables. It was all empty, except for that one bloke-who-looked-a-hell-of-a-lot-like-Malfoy-but-wasn't-really. She sat at a table next to him, facing the opposite direction, so she could study him inconspicuously.
The boy was in fact, Scorpius Malfoy. He was quietly slurping his strawberry milkshake. He knew that Rose Weasley was sitting near him. He knew she was studying him, and she thought he didn't notice. She was dead wrong. He saw that way she barely touched her Mixee, and how the tip of her tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth with the effort of doing...whatever she was doing. Spying on him, probably. Did it count as spying if the subject was very well aware of the supposed espionage?
He had come here for a very particular reason. He knew that she came here often with her cousin Al. He had been coming here for a week now, and just as he was beginning to think he had misheard the name, she showed up. He was NOT going to miss his chance. Now, or never.
Carefully, he pushed the chair across from him out with the tip of his worn sneaker. He had worn them despite his mother's strong feelings ("Scorpius! Get your feet out of those horrid rags!" "Astoria, let him wear whatever he wants. We're not going anywhere." "Draco, he took those out of the rubbish bin!" "Mum, they're comfortable!")
and with the aid of his spanking new Silverstick broom, flown to Rose Weasley's neighborhood. He had nicked her address from the Headmistress' office during his first detention, when his very first prank had failed miserably (he hadn't attempting one after that) and stowed it away for the future. He was a Ravenclaw, after all. And look, here it came in handy.
Rose looked up at the sound. Her eyes strained with the effort of glancing at the bleached bloke out of the corner of her eye. Oh, sod it, I'm going to find out if it's Malfoy or not. She looked up, straight into the grey eyes of a smirking Scorpius Malfoy.
"Sit, Weasley." he motioned to the chair. "I even pulled it out for you the way a gentleman should."
Rose picked up her Mixee and migrated. She might as well, he was the only one here. "Oh shut up. I'm perfectly capable of pulling out my own chair." Swallowing her pride, she sat down and gave him her best annoyed look. "What?"
"I have a proposition for you." he said, leaning closer towards her. She could see the way the shadows of his lashes were more noticeable than the lashes themselves. It made her smile, for no particular reason.
Scorpius could see Rose's dark eyes, peeking out of a ginger fringe, studying him curiously. He could count every damn freckle on that ski-slope nose. He could see her ears turning pinker and pinker with every second that his eyes lingered on her. It made him feel strangely satisfied.
"I have a proposition for you." he repeated, and he saw her coppery eyebrows scrunch together in suspicion. "Well? Get on with it, I haven't got all day."
"Patience, Weasley." he admonished. "You simply can't rush brilliance."
"Don't flatter yourself," she snapped, turning to leave. "I've got better things to do than sit here and listen to your nonsensical ramblings. Brilliance, my arse."
A look of mild amusement crossed Scorpius' face. "I have never in my fifteen years heard Rose Weasley swear. I must have have witnessed a miracle."
She rolled her eyes, but made no motion to leave.
"Very well," Scorpius said, leaning closer. "I have a proposition for you-one that, if successful, will make anything in the world possible."
"Malfoy, you keep going on and on about this so-called brilliant proposition, but you never tell me what the bloody hell it is!"
"Ok, ok fine! Calm down a bit, it'll do your nerves some good. I propose that we befriend each other."
Rose stared at him for a minute. She calmly reached down and pinched her thigh through the thin fabric of her shorts. She proceeded to repeat the action a few times on separate limbs. Scorpius seemed to find the entire spectacle very amusing.
"I assure you, this is not a dream, it is not too good to be true, as you may be thinking." Scorpius said with a smirk.
"Oh shut it, I'm actually in the midst of thinking this is my worst nightmare."
"Really? I'm your worst nightmare? Wow."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"You already do it for me."
"Shut up, just shut up. Why would you want to be my friend anyhow?"
"It's not I want to be your friend, it's a matter of...necessity, shall we say."
"Are you using me?"
"No! I'm not shallow, Weasley."
"I highly doubt that."
"Well...I have...respect for...certain people. And you...might happen to be one of them."
A faint rose blush was seen on his cheeks. Rose stared unabashedly.
"Respect?" she echoed incredulously
"Well...yeah." and suddenly, he looked uncomfortable and awkward. Rose thought it was rather sweet.
"I mean, all the teachers love you-"
"-because of my parents-"
"-and you've got loads of friends-"
"-most of them don't know the first thing about me-"
"-and everyone seems to respect you-"
"-again, only because of my parents-"
"- and loads of blokes can't take their eyes off of you-"
"-because I'm the only girl who's considered attractive, Merlin knows why-"
"-and-will you stop interrupting me? Y'know, most girls would sit tight and giggle flirtatiously if their every quality was praised, not try and insult themselves."
"I'm not insulting myself! I'm politely trying to tell you you're absolutely bonkers! And what on earth gave you the idea I'm included in the group wonderfully labelled as 'most girls'? "
"That's beside the point! Back to the matter at hand-the deal. Do you accept?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yes, Malfoy, why. As in the second-to-last letter of the alphabet. Why should I suddenly become friends with you?"
"Good question. See, I'm sure you're very irritated with your family at the moment."
Rose was taken aback. "How would you know that?"
Scorpius smirked. "Your family is huge. Ten...eleven...twelve grandkids plus twelve adults gives you the grand total of twenty four relations. And that's not counting all the almost-Weasleys: the Longbottoms, the Scamanders, etc. Are there more?"
"You've forgotten Uncle Charlie." Rose responded. "I dunno...probably. Everyone brings over a friend or two over the holidays."
"Right, so with a family of epic proportions, you're bound to be upset with at least someone, at any given time, right?"
"Ri-ght." Rose agreed slowly, not sure where this was going.
"So. Befriend me, and use it as blackmail."
"What?"
"Every time something goes wrong, and you feel uncharacteristically splenetic, threaten to run away with me."
"They'll never buy it."
"Oh they will. Believe me, they will."
"And what's in it for you?"
He shook his head. "Merlin, for the brightest witch in our year, you sure are thick sometimes. It works both ways, you dimwit!"
Rose gave him a classic Weasley glare.
"Look, when my grandfather says something stupid about blood purity and all that rubbish, I'll threaten to run away with you."
Rose felt she should have been insulted by that, but wasn't really.
"Hopefully he'll have a heart attack and drop dead or something."
"Scorpius!"
"What? Honestly, some of the things he says...about your mum especially...Merlin..." he looked away.
"You've never met my mum. She could be a total bitch for all you know."
"I know your mum isn't a total bitch. She couldn't have possibly launched all those safety procedures and saved the world and patented a hundred and forty charms and regulated international transportation procedures if she were that awful. The Wizengamot probably has her on speed dial. She practically runs the Ministry."
"You're right, she's not a bitch. And how do you know what speed dial is? Isn't it considered disrespectful for a Malfoy to meddle with Muggle objects?"
"I happen to think they're fascinating. Another use for the Disillusionment Charm: hide personal possessions that may risk your inheritance."
Rose was stunned. She had no idea that the Malfoy her father had passionately warned her about would be this bloke: to whom she could talk to as easily as Al, who somehow shared a weird, twisted connection with her. Who tinkered with muggle objects in his free time, like Grandad Weasley. Who willingly sought her out. Suddenly, nothing was so clear or messed up as it had been before she had sat down here. And she didn't know what to think.
"So what do you say? Blackmail mates?" Scorpius asked, holding out his hand.
She shook it firmly. "Blackmail mates."
"Excellent, Weasley, see you around then." he said with a mock-salute.
"Oh please, we're blackmail mates. Honestly, drop the ridiculous formalities. It's Rose."
