"Hey, Weaselette, wanna go out for dinner?"
"Uh…Scorp, maybe next time? I think Al and I'll probably order pizza or something. Feel free to join."

"I think Al is going on a date, tonight, you know. My offer still stands. Wanna accompany me?" He grins at me, his hand outstretched in a mock chivalrous gesture.

I place my hand in his, and one over my heart. "Oh, good sir, I must ask, why art thou asking me so?"

Scorpius' grey eyes soften. "Eh, there's no one at home, and I'm not the best of cooks." He admits sheepishly, mussing up the back of his hair.

"But I distinctly recall Sera saying that she'll be home today. You know, your sister?"
In response to my raised eyebrow, Scorpius sighs. "Alright, Weaselette, you got me. Still, I feel like a dinner at Cha Francisco, and who better to have as company than you?"

Okay, now I'm officially confused. "Scorpius, er…no offense, but you're asking me out to dinner, on Valentine's Day, despite the fact that your sister is an excellent cook and is probably preparing a five course meal right now, which is nothing less than the best restaurant's. Forgive me, but I'm really struggling not to get the wrong idea here." I smile faintly at him, distinctly amused as he nervously rubs the back of his neck.

"Well. Just come, why won't you?" His grey eyes bore into mine, pleading slightly. Damn, I hate puppy dog faces.

I raise my hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, Malfoy, you got me. I'll just go change." I turn to make my way upstairs, thinking of how most of the restaurants will be decked with pink glitter in honour of it being the most romantic evening of the year.

Scorpius grabs on to my arm. "Uh, Rosie?"
"Yeah?"
"Wear something nice." He winks, and then grins, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. "See ya soon."

Okay, seriously. What do I wear? What does nice constitute? I have practical black skirts that I wear to office, and a couple of peasant shirts. None of this is fancy enough for a restaurant, to be honest. But then again, I don't visit many fancy eateries either!

Aha! I think I should transfigure one of these skirts instead! Locating a dark black high waisted skirt at the back of my wardrobe, I pull it off the hanger and lay it out on my messy bed.

Hm. I think ruffles would make this thing seem a little less formal? Ruffles, ruffles, where do I find ruffles now?!

Oh, wait. I remember Great Aunt Muriel giving a shirt to me once. Glittery and ruffle-y. But Merlin, I have no clue where the bloody hell it is.

"ACCIO UGLY SHIRT!" I yell, praying desperately for luck.

It comes zooming out of the bottom of the shoe-case, a pair of neon green shoelaces dangling out of the armholes like creepy bony limbs.

Ripping off the ruffles from the shirt, I carefully use my wand to stitch them into the hemline of the dusty skirt. Changing the colour to a deep violet, I spray glitter off the shirt wherever I feel like it.

Casting a drying charm after a couple of minutes of needless effort, I turn to look at my masterpiece. And…oops, it looks horrible.

"SCORPIUS! SCORPIUS, GET UP HERE!" I yell down the stairs, opening my door wide for the pale haired bloke.

I can hear the pounding of footsteps almost immediately as Scorpius rushes in, his pale hair fluttering haphazardly and falling into his worried grey eyes. His wand is outstretched, which strikes me as odd, but I don't comment.

"Rose!" He breathes a sigh of relief as he sees me plopped down beside the ruined skirt, rushing over to draw me into his arms. Not that I don't like hugging the fit bloke, but he confuses me.

He pulls me to him tighter, and mutters into my neck. "Jesus, Ro, I was so scared. You had me so worried."

Right.

Pulling back, I place a hand on his cheek to make him look at me. "Scorp, wh-what happened?"

He shakes his head stiffly. "N-nothing, don't worry."

I know something's going on, but I have a feeling I should ask about this later, when he's a little more calm.

Anyway, time to get back to the ruined situation at hand.

"Now, what happened? What did you yell for me for?"

I point grimly at the ruined skirt of doom. "That happened. I really don't own anything nice, Scorp. Guess I'll skip?" I mutter, looking down to my lap.

"Jesus." He whistles. "That is…uh…really blinding."

"Anyway," he laughs, "You could have just told me beforehand. I'll ask Sera to lend something, don't worry."

He turns towards the fireplace in my brightly wallpapered room, but I close my hand around his wrist.

"Scorp?"
"Hm?"
"Why are you doing this, anyway? I'm sure it isn't much of a big deal if we don't have dinner together."

He ignores me, throwing down the floo powder before ducking his blond head into the fireplace.

I can hear whispered mutters from the other side before Scorpius emerges, his hair distinctly ruffled but a small grin curling his lips.

"Here," he thrusts a maroon bag at me, "five minutes, I'll wait downstairs. We're already late for the booking."

He turns and leaves.

Wait. Booking? What booking?


"Oh, hey." Scorpius looks up from his phone, tech savvy as he is. "You look beautiful, Rosie." He smiles at me softly, getting up to tuck a curl of hair behind my ear.

Okay. What is going on? I guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts, or something like that. Carpe Diem!

"Shall we?" he takes my arm, leading me out into the apparation plot cleared out at the back of my garden.

I catch him looking at me from the corner of his eye, but then we go spinning off into the distance, and the stare is gone.


I straighten my dress when we land. The tall man guarding the gate of Cha Francisco is dressed in impeccable robes, and he scans us for proper attire before letting us in.

I doubt that even if the skirt had turned out halfway decent, it would have been accepted in this posh place.

Scorp, as always, looks impeccable in a crisp dark blue shirt, and I guess I, too, for once look a wee bit as royal as him. After all, it is Sera's dress that I'm wearing, and Malfoys have great taste.

The restaurant is every bit as beautiful as I remember, having come here a couple of years ago with Scorp. He seems to frequent the place quite often. The ceiling is domed subtly, soft fairy lights outlining the contours of the hall. The floor is made almost completely of polished stone, and the walls glimmer a rich violet. Hey, my skirt would have matched! Which is kind of a nice way of saying that I'd look like a chameleon. But eh, technicalities.

Anyway, one of the staff abandons his post to come escort Scorpius and me to a tall table at the centre of the room, somewhat made private by the shielding waterfalls that flow on each side, the scintillating water somehow disappearing within a couple metres of the table.

"Scorpius?" I touch his arm lightly, smiling. "You booked the place of honour for us? It must have cost a zillion galleons to get this spot today!"

He smirks, pulling out my chair for me. Ooh, very gentlemanly. I reiterate my question, what is going on?!

He beckons to a nearby waitress, smiling politely at her. "I'll have the mushroom Alfredo Fettucine, and the lady," he gestures towards me to speak.

"Er, I think I'll have a steak, and a dreamboat Yorkshire pudding at the side."

She bows slightly, smirking at Scorpius. "Is that all, sire?"
"Yes, thank you."

Why does Scorpius have such great manners, I ask you? Why?