MYFIRSTFANFIC. I don't really know why I started writing, but I just thought I'd take a shot at it. If I'm terrible at it, I apologize.

Let's pretend Dumbledore exists, eh? Also, if random things that don't quite fit pop up, please do excuse me. I'm not perfect.

enjoy!


I hate Dumbledore. Stupid Dumbledore. Stupid ideas. Why does he have to think up some ingenious idea that makes my life miserable? Deciding to adapt the Muggle's classroom arrangement. Absolute crap. Sitting together in pairs, with a class of twenty, for every fucking lesson for your entire Hogwarts life was not enjoyable.

I don't know if I should scream or shout. I shouldn't complain, I know. My partner's Albus. Practically family! And yet it pains me, because slimy, ferret-offspring Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, is sitting in front of me.

And his partner is none other, then my great friend Jasmine.

Scorpius Malfoy's partner for the year is Jasmine Evans.

And I love him.

I love him.

Someone just shoot me now.

I can't stand Jasmine dropping things, and him picking it up for her. It's not like she does it on purpose, of course. She drops a quill, drops a piece of parchment. But he's on her beck and call. And he's always smiling when he talks to her. I should feel guilty, but I don't. Jasmine likes him, and he likes her too. She told me. They both haven't admitted it yet, though. Either way, it's obvious. All those gestures spell it out clearly. For example, just yesterday, when I dropped my favorite quill on the floor? He noticed, and not only did he not pick it up (not that I expected him to), he purposely stepped on it. He turned around in his chair, smirked, and squished it. And now my quill is ruined. It's one of those delicate ones. You have to handle it with care.

I hate him. And I hate myself. I don't know what I like about him; he's not one of the best looking boys in school, that would be my almost-family-too, and brother of Albus, James Sirius, and Cedric Chang. In fact, I'm not even supposed to like Malfoy.

Look who it is. So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

"Ron, for heaven's sake. Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry. Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

It's practically imprinted in my mind. Not that it'd matter anyway, all that he sees is Jasmine Evans.

Guilty. Jealous. All these thoughts are just swirling around in my head. Days pass, and I just watch. Albus just obediently does his work, and so do I. But hey, I can multitask, can't I? We're right behind them, so I can watch everything. And every little thing he does for her stabs my heart. I swear, one day I'm going to break.

"Ah, music! Music, my dear class is a form of art! Like art, dancing, music is a form of expression! There are many different types…" Professor Millicent continues droning on, and I try to absorb what she's saying. Scorpius is talking to Jasmine, and I can see her smiling.

"Rose! Did you just hear me?" Professor Millicent's voice cuts through my thoughts.

I stare blankly at her. Great. Now practically the whole class is looking at me. Scorpius and Jasmine turn around to face me, and I can feel Scorpius smirking, my face turning red, matching my hair. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Scorpius?" Professor Millicent asks, hopefully.

"You said we had to do a project, Professor." Scorpius turns to face her, his voice smooth.

"Correct! You have to compose a song, my dears! It can be about anything, family, nature, humor, and romance!" Professor Millicent claps her hands together at that. The whole class perks up, interested and listening, but she doesn't mention anything worthy of gossip.

"It is due two weeks from now, and I expect at least two drafts to come in by next Monday! Yes, you do need drafts if you want to score an Outstanding in this class!" Professor Millicent says, when she sees Albus's questioning look.

Bloody brilliant.


"And we have to make sure that the lyrics of the song rhyme!" Lily adds, in disgust. The fourth time this day. As if I'm not in her Muggle Studies class. I love my family, but sometimes they are rather irritating. My head was already working overtime on what I was to write. I bet Scorpius and Jasmine are going to write some sappy love song which they'll submit together, and who knows maybe they'll sing it to each other and then Professor Millicent will film it, and the whole stupid Hogwarts will see "Sappy Love Song of the Year" and-

"Rose," Lily gives me a look, and I know what she's thinking. She's the only one who does. She confronted me last week, because she's so damn good at noticing little things. The boys however, are oblivious.

"Hmm?"Albus asks, his mouth covered in whipped cream (from dinner's custard pie, no doubt).

"Hello!" It was Jasmine. She put down her belongings on the chair, took one look at Albus and pulled a face. "Albus, you look ridiculous. You almost look like Dumbledore." At that, she reached for a napkin and wiped the cream away from his mouth. Albus froze, a spoonful of chocolate pudding hovering in midair. He recovered quickly, I'll give him that. He gave a cough and continued eating, but I did not fail to notice that his ears turned slightly red. Jasmine, on the other hand, did not notice this, and was unaffected.

I caught Lily's eye and grinned. It so obvious that Albus had a crush on her, no matter how hard he'd try and deny it. Jasmine doesn't notice it anyway. She's too busy filling her head with images of Scorpius.

In fact, I think he's staring over at the table right now. As if to prove my point, Jasmine sits up straighter and hastily puts down the napkin containing Albus's … desert. I turn around, to confirm it, and meet Malfoy's eyes.

Brown meets grey.

I love his eyes. They're this stormy grey, and it always seems as if he knows what you're thinking. I stop, in thought halfway, and remember that I'm not supposed to be thinking of him. He would never, ever, spare a thought for me when he's got Jasmine, so why should I? Thus, I give him my best glare, snatch up my belongings, hurry out of the Great Hall and back to my common room.

"Burst my bubble," I tell the Fat Lady, when I reach the portrait. She sniffed disdainfully, but swung open anyway (She did not approve of the new password one bit. From the day that the password was set, Peeves would blow bubbles whenever he passed by, and often her portrait would get soapy. The Fat Lady does not do soapy). I climbed through and quickly went to change for bed. I didn't feel like staying up today, I was much too frustrated.


"Great," I muttered to myself. I was already sitting on my bed, changed, and ready for bed. My curtains were drawn, and spells were already placed to give myself privacy. My problem now?

Thinking of stupid lyrics for Professor Millicent's assignment. I mean, compose a song. What was the rational for it? If there was one topic I could relate on, it would be well, romance. Professor Millicent said she would not reveal the lyrics to the class, thankfully. Either way, I could write about family. Or friends. "And make sure it rhymes!"

This is too hard.

After scribbling a few lines, crossing them out later, and repeating those two steps for about five times, I did the smart thing: I gave up. Tossing my notebook and quill aside, I went to sleep.

Fantasizing about things that would never happen often helped me sleep faster, and so I did.