A/N: When I first decided to start another story Scorpius was originally going to be a Singer, but after further thought, I have decided that he needs to be a Quidditch Player. This story will not be family friendly. There will be sex, there will be vulgar words (mostly from Scorpius), so if that's not for you, you might not want to continue reading any further.


Chapter 1

-For Old Time's Sake-

'In another life, I would be your girl. We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world…

In another life I would make you stay, so I don't have to say you were the one that got away…'

The One That Got Away by Katy Perry

-Rose-

It's been a long day. My feet ache, my head hurts where the pins have been holding my hair up too long, and my eyes are bleary from staring at case files. I unlock the door to my third story flat, so tired that I forgot that I could apparate, and ended up walking the five blocks to get home. I push open the door, and drop my keys in their typical spot on the smallish wall hanger that I keep for just such occasions. I pluck the pins out of my hair, breathing a sigh of relief as my hair tumbles down to my shoulders, falling gently into the longish bob style that I'd had Dominique cut it into a few weeks back. I head to the bedroom, kicking my heels off when I cross the threshold. I walk towards my closet, magically extended to hold all of my clothing and pull out an old T-shirt, pilfered from my dad about ten years ago when I was still in Hogwarts, and a pair of comfortable sweatpants.

I can hear a glass of wine calling my name, and I shuffle back into the kitchen. I reach into the wine chiller and grab a bottle at random, pleased when I realize that it's a decently aged white and pour myself a glass. I place the glass on the counter and put the bottle of wine back into the chiller, before grabbing the wine off of the counter and pressing my back against it. I close my eyes, and place the glass to my lips preparing for the first sip, when a horrifically loud pop erupts in my ears. I scream, dropping my wine glass and blindly searching for my wand, before I hear a snide chuckle. I open my eyes and groan when I see exactly who my visitor is.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is lounging in my kitchen door, his shoulder propped in the opening, smug smile gracing his aesthetically pleasing face. I shake my head, placing a hand against my pounding heart and willing it to calm down. While I wait, I take the time to covertly give Scorpius a critical once over. I haven't been physically near him for almost an entire year, since he was Best Man and I was Maid of Honor in Albus and Alice's wedding last summer. I stifle an appreciative sigh; Scorpius is a big man, tall with broad shoulders that have no problem filling out a doorway. At the moment he's wearing a green cardigan, with a white shirt over a pair of black trousers and he looks great. His white blonde hair is longish now, curling just slightly above the neck of his shirt, and his eyes, those stormy gray eyes, are just as captivating now as they were five years ago.

I shake my head slightly, kicking those images out of my head and reach for my wand to clean up the mess. Before I can reach it, Scorpius has flicked and swished and the kitchen is as good as new. I hear another; smaller pop and two wine glasses appear on my kitchen table, complete with white wine. He gestures at the table and pulls out a chair and I sit, wondering what he could possibly want. Scorpius and I haven't exactly been what one would call the best of friends, so a social call between the two of us is unprecedented. I take a sip of my wine, eyeing him over the glass with wary eyes. He takes a sip of his own wine, and under the brighter light of the lamp hanging over my kitchen table, I can better see the dark spots hovering underneath his eyes. He looks at me and rubs a hand down his face.

"What's going on, Scorpius? I haven't seen you in a year and now you just pop in out of nowhere?" His eyes flicker up to me, and I can see the tiredness hovering in their depths. Scorpius is the star seeker for Puddlemere United and is this year's pick for Seeker for the English National Team, every week he's featured in Witch Weekly with a new gorgeous witch on his arm. By all accounts he's living a charmed life, so I dont know why he's suddenly looking like the world is weighing down on him.

"I've gotten into a spot of trouble, Rose and I really need your help." He looks to the side quickly and I frown. Scorpius has never been one to mince words, usually saying whatever he wants to whomever he wants with little to no regard for what others feel.

"Well, what kind of trouble are you in? You can't just say something like that and not continue." I place the wine glass to the side, watching his long fingers run up and down the handle of his own goblet. The hand resting on the table clenches.

"I've been accused of using steroids. Completely untrue of course, but because I refuse to submit to testing of any kind, they automatically assume that I've done it." I picked up the wine glass and downed the rest of its contents in one gulp, before daring to look at him again.

"Why do you refuse to take the test, Malfoy? It makes no sense, if you're not actually using them." He had picked up his wine glass, but at my question he slammed it back down. I jumped, startled by the unusual show of emotion from the usually stoic man.

"It's an insult! I may be a Malfoy, but I have never lied. I've been playing for Puddlemere for the last ten years! My performance has been nothing short of perfect. And now, because I've been picked for the National Team I have to be on steroids?" I felt the anger roll off him, and sigh. Only a Malfoy would be this upset because his honor was questioned.

"Scorpius, as much as I would love to help you," I try to infuse as much sarcasm as possible into the word love, "I'm completely overrun at work. I don't have the time to help anyone else. I don't know if you noticed how late it was when I got home. Wait a second…how did you know that I would be home?" I feel my brows lowering in suspicion.

"I've saved you the trouble of having to tell your boss that you can't handle your other cases. I've paid him an excessive amount of money to reserve your services exclusively. Just until you get me off that is. I was in his office right before you left from work." He says this with all the calm superiority of someone used to getting their way without question.

I feel my mouth dropping and my blood heating. My mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish pulled out of water. I'm struggling to grasp the words that should be on the tip of my tongue, but I can't.

"I believe the words you're looking for are 'Thank You, Scorpius, for significantly lowering my workload.'" The smug expression on his face is what makes the absolute outrage boil over.

"You arrogant, ridiculously pompous prick! I can't believe that you would think this was acceptable! Why do you always have to do this? This, Scorpius, is the reason we're no longer together! You're high-handedness, your absolute certainty that everything you do is right." I feel my hands clenching into fists as I speak.

"Now, now Rose. Let's not bring the past into this. This is strictly a business arrangement, so let's keep it professional."


-Scorpius-

She's always been the most beautiful when she's upset with me. I smile in amusement as she drags a hand through hair that's shorter and straighter than I remember it. I'd always loved the length of her hair, used to adore the way it felt on my skin when we'd finished shagging, cool on my heated skin. She's still so small, even in heels she only reaches the middle of my chest. It gives her a sense of fragility, that's completely ruined when you chance a glance at those navy eyes and realize she could take on the world. The over-sized shirt she's wearing has slipped slightly off of one shoulder, revealing a small bit of lightly freckled skin. I feel a reaction below my belt, and the smile slips off my face. One would think after five years my reaction to her would be different, but I see my body still acts like a randy teenager around her.

"Scorpius, I can't represent you. That would be a conflict of interest. We have a past. I couldn't in good conscious represent you." I laugh off her concern.

"Rose, everybody with eyes knows that you hate me. Our break up was highly publicized, or did you forget? 'Golden Girl and Bad Boy Spell Heartbreak?'" I watch something flicker across her face at the mention of The Prophet's front page headline when they got word of our demise. She looks away from me, and for a second I think I see tears, but when she snaps her eyes back they're as clear and direct as they ever were.

"Scorpius…I don't hate you. Whether you believe it or not, I really do want you to succeed, but I just can't work that closely with you. It won't be good for either one of us. We don't know how to play nice with one another." She picks up her empty wine glass and walks over to the sink, washing the glass without magic. I frown. Rose always reverts to the Muggle method of doing things when she's stressed or upset, a habit she says she picked up from her mother.

"Rose, I wouldn't be asking this of you, if I didn't think that you were my only option. I need your help. Don't make me swallow my pride." I drain the rest of my own wine and stand up, walking over to place the glass in the sink. She immediately starts washing that out too. I reach out to still her hand, confused as to why she was so upset.

Rose and I have a long history, most of it good. We'd surprised the Wizarding World, when we'd started dating fresh out of Hogwarts. We'd been an all-star couple. Rose had swiftly climbed her way up the ladder at the law firm she'd been hired at straight out of school, Aldebourne and Seymour, and I'd been recruited for Puddlemere before I'd ever left Hogwarts. Most of our exposure, however, had come from the fact that our parents were, quite notoriously, enemies. She'd been my most steadfast supporter, losing her voice at nearly every game, and I'd responded in kind by spoiling her senseless. Not with monetary things, Rose could and did buy everything she needed.

I'd given her all of my free time, surprised her regularly with home cooked meals, something I'd learned to do especially for her, moments spent just talking, to remind each other of the reality of our lives, something that always being trapped in the spotlight could sap away . And let's not forget the encounters behind closed doors. Rose was all fire when the lights dimmed. It wasn't until four years into our relationship that things took a turn for the worse. It was Rose who broke up with me, and I've never really understood why, but I do know that The Prophet got some excellent pictures of us having a serious row right outside of my house. The very next day pictures of the incident were plastered all over the media circuits, and Rose and I stopped talking to one another completely. I only run into her if I'm attending an event that Albus has invited me to, and even then we tend to stay on different sides of the room.

I snap myself out of my reverie and use my grip on her hand to turn her towards me. Her eyes are clear, but I can see the slight flush where she's been chewing her bottom lip. The color is high in her cheeks and her breathing is stunted. As much as I've tried to hold onto the animosity that I felt toward her immediately after the break up, every time I'm near her, a little more of it disappears.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to. But I didn't come to you because of a prior relationship, I came to you because I've followed your career, and you're one of the most successful young attorneys in all of London right now. I'll give you time to think about it. Owl me when you've made your decision."

She didn't say anything when I walked out of the door closing it gently behind me, before apparating off of the door step. I popped up in my own flat in Clapham and let out a sigh. I hadn't even thought of asking anyone else to represent me. I hadn't figured that Rose would actually refuse me. She's always had a soft heart; I guess I thought she would have helped me regardless of our past. I head up the stairs to my bedroom, dragging a hand through my hair. When I enter my bedroom, I sit on the edge of my bed and work the buttons on my shirt, shrugging it off and letting it drop to the floor, before standing and walking into the loo. I fiddle with the knobs in the shower, waiting for it to reach that perfect temperature. I shed my pants, leaving them in a heap on the cold tile floor, and step into the shower.

I lean my head against the glass pane of the shower wall, letting the warm water sluice down my skin. Rose…Merlin's Balls, she's only gotten more gorgeous with age. I close my eyes letting the image of her drift through my mind. The shorter hair really suited her, bought out the deep blue in her eyes and highlighted the brush of freckles on her cheeks. Her lips are still just as full and pink as I remember. She's gained a little weight, but it's in all the right places, giving her fuller breasts and rounder hips. I look down at myself and groan, realising that my daydreaming has led to an unfortunate situation. I push myself off of the shower wall and grab a washcloth, rubbing soap into it and quickly lathering my skin up.

I let the warm water rinse my skin clean and frown when I see that my situation has not gotten better. I sigh and reach down, grabbing my cock. I let my hand gently stroke my cock, lightly, barely touching the surface, up and down, and again, urging it forward, softly rubbing the sweet spot under the head. My eyes close momentarily and then open again, and I drag my gaze down. A drop of white sticky fluid emerges from the tip. I grasp it harder, starting to slide the skin up over the head, a relaxed stroke, maintaining a constant rhythm. I feel my mouth opens slightly, hear my breathing become heavier. My pace quickens. I stroke faster, speeding up until my hand is a blur in my vision. My strokes are long and go from the bottom of my cock to the top. I move my other hand to my balls, and squeeze them gently, pulling them away from my body.

My legs jerk and twitch and I have to steady myself. My hips rise up and then push back against the shower wall. The head of my cock is glossy now, the water adding a nice wetness. I let my hand slide up over my head and back down again, savoring the exquisite pleasure, the sensations filling me up. My body stiffens up and I can feeling myself on the precipice, for that moment, before a slight groan escapes my lips and I begin to cum. Strands of cum shoot out from my cock, one, two, three, and my hand rubs the cum that falls on my cock down it, sliding it slowly.

I release a breath, leaning heavily on the shower wall, waiting for my body to relax. When I'm finally under control I turn off the water, open the stall door, and reach for one of the thick cotton towels my mother had sent as a housewarming gift when I'd moved into this flat a few months ago. I wrap it around my waist, tucking the end in at my waist, before padding into my bedroom, the water dripping off of my skin being absorbed into the thick carpet. I head towards my closet, and grab a pair of silk boxers out of the built in drawers, sliding them on, and dropping the towel from my waist. I flop down on the bed, draping an arm over my eyes and wondering why Rose still had the power to excite me. I was slowly drifting off to sleep when I heard a gentle tapping on my window.

I rolled over and sat up when I caught sight of an owl. I hurried over and opened the window, the small owl came rushing in, dropping a small letter and then flying right back out. I picked up the note, turning it over. My heart sped up when I saw the seal, a small rose pressed into wax. I'd bought Rose that ring a million years ago, she'd always used it to seal her letters. I cracked the seal, and smiled when a rush of scent hit my nose. Whenever Rose sent a note she always dusted it gently with her perfume, a musky rose scent, she said it made people think of her, and she was right. Inside are only three words, they make my smile widen even more.

I'll do it.


A/N: This will be a blanket disclaimer for the fic: I do not own Harry Potter or any related merchandise, or characters created by J.K. Rowling. This fic will be written from the Point-Of-View of both Rose and Scorpius. I will include the song I feel best goes with the general point of the chapter at the beginning of each chapter. Feel free to YouTube it, while you read. Please enjoy…and don't forget to read and review!