Chapter One
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and ocs. Enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think.
Panic. That was the most identifiable emotion she could feel coursing through her blood. The panic of not getting away, of this beast hurting her cousins, her brother, her mother. No, she couldn't let that happen. She pushed herself to run faster, entice the beast, and show him she would be the more enjoyable prey to hunt as her mother called for her father and uncle. She didn't bother chancing a glance over her shoulder, she knew this monster would be right behind her, eager for a chase that no one else was willing to engage in. She felt the swipe of its claws sweeping across her back, felt the pain that wrecked her body. Yet she refused to give in, refused to fall at this thing's feet for him to eat her. Her parents didn't fight in a bloody war for her to surrender to this monster her mother always defended to her father. Her sweat stung the cuts, the sticky blood coated her back. Her eyes were beginning to blur, blackness dancing around the edges as she tried to remain conscious. She couldn't allow this beast to win, she couldn't show she was the weakest link in their family. She tripped over a root, falling to the forest floor. She couldn't scream in terror as the beast that resembled more monster than man bit into her shoulder as he fell on top of her, ripping a chunk of her skin away as he jerked his mouth. She didn't look at him or the wound he had inflicted. She knew if she did, the tears she had fought so desperately to keep at bay would break free and she would never be able to stop, no matter how hard she tried. She was gasping for breath, struggling to remain calm, distant from this attack, and for the most part it was working. She could compartmentalized like her mother, it was one of the many gifts she had inherited. She didn't hear the many voices shouting her name. She didn't hear the hexes and curses that began to fly through the air. She rationalized with herself. She had been attacked during the day. She wouldn't become a full werewolf. She would be more like her Uncle Bill. She would have scars that wouldn't truly heal, but she wouldn't go through the full transformation. She would still be able to attend Hogwarts. Those were the only thoughts circling her mind as she finally allowed the sweet darkness of the unconscious claim her.
She sat up with a gasp, fear gripping the base of her spine as beads of sweat rolled down her face. She always hated the night before the full moon. That was the night she couldn't keep the memory at bay. That was the night everything she felt from her attack resurfaced, made her relive it. She exhaled a breath, running her slender fingers through her auburn curls, catching a few tangles she would need to work out. She slowly glanced around the dormitory she shared with the other seventh year girls, breathing a sigh of relief that she had remembered to place a silencing charm around her bed before she had allowed sleep to claim her. Rose knew she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep today, so with another sigh, this one sadder than the first, she kicked the sheets that had tangled around her feet and swung her legs over the side of the mattress. She paused, glancing at the mirror one of her dorm mates had placed on the wall beside her bed. Her excuse had been that Rose needed to see her beauty each and every morning when she woke. She never told the poor girl that she never even glanced at the mirror, going out of her way to avoid it. She couldn't bring it in herself to be out right cruel to her dorm mate who was only trying to help her. Finally squaring her shoulders, Rose glanced at the mirror. She didn't see why the others made such a fuss over their appearances. She knew she was exactly plain to look out, however, she wasn't the best choice for a boy either. Others often told Rose they were jealous of her looks, inheriting a mix between her mother's dark curls and her father's fiery locks. The deep auburn curls fell in soft ringlets to the small of her back, the length was due to the curse she had been given. Her cerulean blue eyes held flecks of topaz gold in them, making them unique even by wizarding standards. She was tall, another trait she inherited from her father, standing at five feet nine inches now that she had finished growing. She was slender with curves and skin that held a slight color all year round despite her parents both being very pale.
Rose just never saw why others made such a fuss. They never saw the scars that decorated the length of her back and the junction of her shoulder. They never saw the internal fight she was forced to endure for three days. They weren't privy to the secrets she kept from everyone, including her closest friend, Scorpius. He didn't know about her curse, and she had kept it that way for the seven years they had known each other. She knew if anyone were to find out, they would look at her the same way they looked at others with his curse. It didn't matter that she only carried part of it, she was still part monster. She closed her eyes, shaking the dark thoughts from her mind as she brushed past the mirror and her bed, deciding she would spend the rest of the early morning hours in the common room. She wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night and glancing at the watch her mother had gotten her, it was too early to begin getting ready for classes. Rose decided she would spend the next few hours sketching, which always seemed to calm her mind.
Pivoting on the balls of her feet, she picked her way to her bedside table, opening the top drawer to retrieve her art supplies her Uncle Bill had set to her. She grabbed the large sketch pad as well as a canister of charcoals, her mind already forming an image she would be owling to her mother when it was finished. She was nearly silent as she descended the staircase, a trait she received after she had been attacked.
"It's the predator in you Little Pup. You would have been a strong werewolf if it had attacked you during the night of the full moon," Uncle Bill had explained when no one else heard her creeping down the stairs of the Burrow one Christmas morning.
Rose shook the memory from her mind, glancing around the common room to ensure that it was indeed empty. With a sigh of relief, Rose set her art supplies down, moving to sit by the window to catch light from the nearly full moon. Once she was comfortable, she set to work. She flipped through the used pages of her sketch pad until she found a clean page, smoothing it out she went to her next task, which was selecting a pencil to begin the outline for the image she would be putting on the paper. Sketching, painting, anything that had to do with capturing the beauty in the moment always seemed to calm her mind, settle her thunderous thoughts that always seemed to be boiling over. They were always so loud that she could rarely decipher one from the other.
Her mother had often said that was because she was constantly working out a problem, she just wasn't' conscious of the action. She continued focusing on the random lines that were quickly filling the page, a soft smile curving her lips as an image began to take form.
"Water colors or acrylics?" the husky voice of her closest friend questioned, his breath ghosting over her ear. Rose didn't start as most people would. She knew in the back of her mind that if she was awake, Scorpius wouldn't be that far behind. They always seemed to be in sync with each other, always seemed to know when the other needed space, or needed company. Tonight, Rose would have preferred to be left alone. However, she knew Scorpius wouldn't leave her.
"Neither. Charcoals. I wanted to capture the essence of my mother that my father always seems to see. Water colors and acrylics wouldn't be able to justify the soft lines. At least not the way my father sees it," Rose explained as she replacing her sketching pencil with a piece of charcoal to begin the shading.
Scorpius could only chuckle at his friend's explanation. Rose was always unique, different from the other girls that constantly vied for his attention. She tried to be a wallflower, tried to blend with the background. Yet no matter how hard she tried, his eyes always seemed to find her. He watched her for a moment, auburn curls piled atop her head in a messy bun, lead staining the side of her hands and finger tips, quickly mixing with the charcoal that was currently in her hand. Rose was different, beautiful in a way he would never be able to explain.
"Quit watching me. You know I hate when anyone does that," she murmured quietly, her eyes never leaving the sketching she was working on. Scorpius couldn't help the smirk that danced on his lips, he always loved riling her up.
"But it's so much fun looking at you when you work Rosie, especially when you work," Scorpius commented, a teasing lilt to his sleepy voice.
"Don't call me Rosie. And it bothers me when anyone watches me. Please Scorpius, could you just not," Rose wasn't begging, she would never beg. And she wasn't pleading, that wasn't Rose either. It was more of a subtle command, one he just couldn't ignore.
"Alright, I'll stop watching you," he huffed, annoyed with himself that he could never deny her.
"Thank you," the words were barely above a whisper, and if the common room hadn't been silent, Scorpius doubted he would have heard her.
"What are you doing out of bed any way Rose? It's still early," Scorpius finally questioned after a few moments of silence that had settled over them. Rose shrugged, her unique colored eyes never leaving the nearly finished art piece before her.
"Couldn't sleep," was her mumbled answer, one he accepted years ago. He knew she always had trouble sleeping, especially around the time of the full moon. He just never understood why. And no matter how many times he had pestered Albus, he would always receive the same answer.
"That's not exactly something I can tell mate. That's Rosie's secret. You just have to be patient with her." And that was the end of that conversation. He quickly shook the memory from his mind, nodding in understanding.
"What about you?" she requested in return, knowing something was obviously bothering him.
"Stress. Exams begin tomorrow, than I need to decide whether I want to spend the holidays here, with Albus, or with my grandparents, who seem to be determined I spend the winter holidays with them," Scorpius explained, his mercurial silver eyes trained on the waxing Gibson moon that was shining brightly outside the window.
"Oh, I'd vote for spending the holidays with Albus. At least than you wouldn't be dragged into whatever plot your Grandfather has concocted to brainwash you," Rose commented lightly, setting down her charcoal to look over the final piece.
"It's beautiful Rose," Scorpius breathed as his eyes followed the lines that made up Hermione Weasley. Rose was truly brilliant when it came to sketching.
"Think Mum will like it?" she questioned, a hint of nervousness in her tone, something that was unusual for the usually confident young woman.
"Like it? Rose, I think your Mum is going to love it," he answered, beaming at her for a moment, his eyes taking in her appearance. She had charcoal smudged on her cheek, the black substance staining her fingertips as well as the rest of her hand. She was sitting on the window seat in a pair of black shorts and a thin blue tank top. She was so beautiful, and she didn't seem to realize it.
Before he could truly think about his actions, Scorpius leant forward, his lips touching hers briefly in a chaste kiss. He had always wondered what Rose would taste like. Would she taste like ice, being as cold as she was? Would she taste sweet, like the strawberries she always ate? No, she didn't taste like ice or sweet like strawberries. She tasted spicy, exotic, something he couldn't exactly place. Rose pulled away first, her cerulean blue eyes a shade darker. It was obvious she was struggling to control something, control herself.
"Scorpius, you shouldn't have done that," she whispered before pushing herself to her feet and rushing past him. He stood frozen to his spot, his eyes staring intently at the place she had just vacated, leaving her art supplies behind. What exactly had he done?
A/N: Let me know what you guys thought. This is my first Harry Potter Fic, and well I love the idea of Rose and Scorpius together. And this just sort of hit me. I love feed back.