For my friend Lexi, because I am still hoping for her impossible Christmas miracle. ^.^

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Maybe they'll magically appear under my Christmas tree? =)

Unexpected

Scorpius wasn't brave. It made sense; after all, he wasn't a Gryffindor. A Malfoy in Gryffindor—the concept was simply laughable, and it had been for many generations of his family. However, he also wasn't a Slytherin. At the start of his first year the hat was only just settled on his head before it boldly declared him "Ravenclaw!" for all the hall to hear. Upon recollecting that moment Scorpius could still feel the desperate queasiness erupting in his stomach as the silence dragged on and became smothering. After a handful of long moments (and, Scorpius strongly suspected, under glares from Headmistress) his table began to unfreeze, slowly clapping.

The scrutiny on Scorpius during his first year at Hogwarts was unsettling. Strangely, it had been his father who reassured him. He had always been closer to his mother, so he had no worries about telling her his house—traditions be damned, she'd love him anyway. He was more anxious about his slightly distant father's reactions, as Scorpius wanted nothing more than to make his father proud. But his father had sent him an owl assuring him that he had never been prouder of his son. He had impressed the importance of what this meant for Scorpius: a clean slate, a chance to shake off the shackles he'd been born with, the shackles that now came along with the Malfoy title. He had a chance to prove he was different. That, more than anything, gave him the courage to be himself.

If the watching eyes of the Wizarding World expected him to fall into the old Malfoy pattern, they were sorely disappointed. He did not swagger; he walked. He was clever (of course, he was a Ravenclaw), but he did not boast. He refused to insult people, though he was on the receiving end of vicious remarks all too often. Many people—especially Weasley/Potter people—outright refused to accept his largest variance from the expectations set by his Malfoy predecessors: his best friend, Jordan Abdulian, was muggleborn.

Logically, of course, it made sense. Only purebloods and half-bloods knew of the Malfoy history and the Death Eater tag that seemed permanently glued to their name. As a muggleborn Jordan had no clue whom he was shaking hands with on that first night. By the time he found out why everyone else turned a cold shoulder on his best friend they were already best friends, and to Jordan it didn't matter. He was just like that—loyalty over popularity. Jordan was so loyal that it was a wonder he hadn'tended up a Hufflepuff. No one could understand why the two spent three years attempting to explain to the other exactly why Quidditch versus football were the best sports ever, but then, no one understood their friendship either.

The fact remained, however, that many people were sure Scorpius had reached his limit of surprises. He himself was shocked to find that he had one more left, the biggest one yet. At the tender age of fifteen, he had fallen in love with Rose Weasley.

So Scorpius was not brave, but he was going to tell her anyways. He was nervous as hell, so nervous, in fact, that he couldn't seem to feel his body. That was vaguely worrisome. Despite this, though, he was going to take a risk and tell her. Love was, essentially, being able to take that initial risk and hope you weren't shattered just as much as it was all of the intimacy that came after. Scorpius was sure that Rose was worth that risk—he knew it like he knew the sun would rise in the east in the morning and set in the west at night.

He approached her after dinner and quietly asked to speak with her. Rose's large family gave him suspicious glares that Rose pointedly ignored, walking outside with Scorpius instead. Away from constantly prying eyes and in the fresh air Scorpius relaxed some. "So, what did you want to say?" Rose asked curiously.

He had to smile for a moment at her curiosity, one of the very reasons she'd caught his eye the year before. But the smile was then drowned out by fear, nervousness, and the strange feeling of contentment that came with knowing that in a few moments, she would know what he'd been holding inside for an entire year now. There would be no more worrying about her reaction, no more hiding, and from here on it would be in her hands. "I'm in love with you." He was proud that if didn't come out rushed or blurted, but in a matter-of-fact way that exuded calm certainty.

Rose blinked and then frowned, a small crease appearing between her eyes. "In love with me? Scorpius Malfoy, you don't even know me."

"But I do know you," he told her honestly. He made sure not to pause so that she couldn't contradict him just yet. "Not as much as I want to, but by far enough to fall in love with you." He paused—accidentally—and she took her chance.

"Really?" But there was that ever-present curiosity (he so often wondered why she wasn't a Ravenclaw with him; she certainly had the personality for it), and she challenged him, "What do you know, then?"

He gave her a smile, grateful for the chance, and tried to gather his words in his head. He found, though, that no matter how many times he'd nervously practiced this in his mind, the sight of her completely derailed his train of thought, so he began to speak instead. He felt his words instead of thinking them, and every one was true. "I know that you have blue eyes and red hair that's unique to your family—most of your cousins have it, too. I know that your best friend Rowena Goldstein has a crush on mine, but I haven't told Jordan about it. I know that you're clever—you have the highest marks in our year, even higher than mine, not that I haven't tried to best you—and witty as well. I know that you gave me this opportunity so that you can use that wit to prove to me that I don't know you, and that just makes me love you more. You're intrinsically curious; many people would consider it your weakness, but I think it's your best trait. When you read you sometimes tap your fingers unconsciously, and you tilt your head to the left so that one side of hair looks longer. Your face expresses every emotion of the novel possibly better than the words ever could. You have dated five boys—two from your house and one from each of the other three—and have never fallen in love with any of them. Most of them your cousins set you up with, anyways, and three of them didn't last long. You might have fallen for the Ravenclaw git a year older than us, but he was cheating on you, and he very nearly broke your heart. You haven't dated since then. You love answering questions in class and are the happiest when you know something that everyone else doesn't, yet you get nervous when speaking in front of others. You have a tendency to twist the sleeves of your robes while you talk until they're all wrinkled, and often you don't even realize you're doing it. You think your eyes are just blue, but they actually have some silver and brown in them; your eyes darken when you're upset and the other colors are visible then. You look awful when you've been crying, but you never let anyone see you that way. You probably don't remember that it was me who asked you if you were all right after you confronted your last boyfriend. When you're amused by something and don't want others to notice, you half smile and your eyes light up. Your favorite class is Transfiguration, and once you were depressed for a whole week when you failed a Charms test. You-"

"Scorpius!" she cut me off. She had listened to the first bit with a puzzled expression, growing more confused and amazed by the time she reached the end. "How do you know all of that?"

Scorpius shrugged. "I've just watched you, Rose. It's like your heart is on your sleeve, but no one notices. It's all there. I can see that you're terribly afraid of disappointing your family, afraid of not measuring up to what your parents were. You love your cousin Al even though he's a Slytherin- he's probably your best friend, isn't he?—and your little brother Hugo even though he's a Hufflepuff. You're a prefect, but you let your older cousin James get away with things because marauding is in your blood, too. There's a portrait of your uncle, Fred, on the wall between Transfiguration and Defense, and you always stop to talk to him. Sometimes it even makes you late, but you don't mind the detentions. You're a lot like your mother, but you're closer to your father—it's obvious in the way you hug them that you want to be just like your mum someday, but you want to make your father proud. I understand that; I want to make mine proud, too."

"Won't…" She left the word hanging and frowned to herself.

"What?" Scorpius asked, his own curiosity peeking out.

"I'm sorry," she apologized first, "but I wondered…. Wouldn't he be disappointed that you… love me?" He sensed the hesitation before the word 'love', knowing that she still didn't believe him, but she didn't need to yet.

"No," Scorpius told her, shaking his head. "He'll be surprised, I'm sure, and it'll take some time for him to get used to it, but he wants me to be happy. He doesn't care about what house I'm in, who I'm friends with, or who I love. Are you worried that your parents wouldn't like for you to date an enemy?" Because although he knew all of Rose's actions, he knew very few of her thoughts, and he wanted to know more about her. Scorpius could never stand not knowing.

"I… I don't think so," she said, almost to herself. Then she looked up at him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—I forgot-"

"That's alright, Rose; after all, I did ask."

She was silent for a few moments before speaking up once more. "Why did you tell me all of this, Scorpius? Not to sound… cruel, but, I don't know anything about you, really."

Scorpius, clever as he was, understood what was under her words. "I don't expect you to love me back, Rose. Not yet, at least. You have to know someone to love them, just as you pointed out before. But have I proven that I know enough about you to love you?" She hesitated before slowly nodding. Scorpius let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding—his words had been spoken so calmly, so evenly, so surely that he'd even managed to trick himself into thinking this wasn't the most stressful conversation of his life. "Then can I ask you for one thing?" She hesitated. As much as it killed him, Scorpius assured her, "You can say no." Slowly, Rose nodded, the curiosity dimmed but determination taking its place. There was the Gryffindor in her. "Will you, Rose Weasley, agree to go on a date with me? Just one, I'm only asking for one chance. If you get to know me and you don't like me then, we will still have tried this, right?" He was perilously close to begging before she'd even refused, but every cell of him was frozen, waiting for her to say…

"Yes, Scorpius," she agreed, a smile gracing her face. Even as he unfroze he swooned; not the manliest reaction, but he couldn't be blamed. Rose Weasley was simply the most beautiful girl in the world. "Hogsmeade next weekend, then?"

He nodded, and suddenly he could feel his body again. It felt like he was floating: everything was light and bubbly and good, like the first sip of butterbeer on a freezing winter day. "I'll meet you here at ten?"

She nodded her agreement. "Goodnight, Scorpius." She hesitated before ducking into kiss him briefly on the cheek. "And… thank you."

His mind was spinning from the brief, chaste kiss, but he remember to ask, "For what?"

"For telling me." He smiled as she walked away, falling in love all over again. A week had never seemed so far away, but he'd never been more excited for anything in his life.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are love! =)