This is my first new HP fic in a while – feedback greatly, greatly appreciated! It's been a few years, guys. I kind of forgot how this jam goes.
Rating subject to change, caution - in the few years I've been absent from FF, I went to college and my vocabulary got a lot more vulgar.
Please do enjoy!
"Hope," he announced, "should have stayed in Pablo's Box."
Over the course of the past several years, Rose had long since learned that Scorpius tended towards prolific thespian after inhaling one Firewhiskey too many, taking heart in discussing life philosophies that contrasted with the gritty bar scene behind him. In fact, the more he drank, the more sophisticated his speech tended to be – which, in the past, had gone so far as to even win him an American girlfriend who thought him to be the perfect, articulate English gentleman.
"Pablo's Box?" Rose echoed behind her Butterbeer. Because, loathe as she was to admit it – she was a bit of a lightweight and couldn't keep up drink for drink with Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter. And because unlike Firewhiskey, Butterbeer actually tasted good, damn it.
He made a rectangle shape with his hand before him, tracing the edges vaguely as he tried to recount. "You've read the story – the one where that mortal man slept with a god and pissed off all the other gods, and on their wedding day he was gifted a box of monsters?"
Rose squinted her eyes, trying to place the story while Al shrugged, completely lost. "You mean Pandora's Box?"
"That's the bloody wench," Scorpius declared triumphantly, slinging one arm around Rose and the other arm raising his drink higher in cheers. Rose laughed and waved the bartender for a second round – she needed a bit more if she was going to deal with philosophical Scorpius, and he clearly wasn't drunk enough if he was still dropping swears.
"She didn't sleep with a god," Rose corrected. "She was made by them – "
"Regardless," Scorpius continued and Rose huffed a little while Al repressed a smile, "she released hope into the world, the deadliest vice that haunts all of our footsteps today."
Drinks came, interrupting Scorpius' monologue as they each reached for their next glass, and Al seized his chance to talk. "Okay, I'm lost. Who's Pandora?"
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Rose opened her mouth to respond but Scorpius – who had miraculously managed to down half his Firewhiskey in that time – cut her off. "A woman who inflicted the agony of hope into humankind!" he answered in a pained voice.
"Okay." Al pushed his glasses up some and folded his hands before him, ready for business. "Are we talking about Pandora or Renee?"
Scorpius started at the name, his face constricting for a brief second – and was it her imagination, or did her chest constrict with him? "Don't talk to me of Renee. Renee, the woman with all sharp smiles – " he bemoaned.
"Wait," Rose said. "Who's Renee?"
" – and electric curves – "
Annoyed now, especially at being ignored, she turned to her cousin. "Al, who's Renee?" Rose asked across the table.
" – and a biting voice – "
"A tease," Al answered. "Who's Pandora?"
" – to be able to paint little x's across her taunting eyes – "
"A mythological character," Rose replied, not any bit pleased with his response.
" – blind her as she did me – "
"Your answer doesn't help place this conversation at all," Al accuses.
"Neither does yours," Rose shot back, rolling her eyes before jabbing Scorpius in the side. "Merlin, Scorpius, shut up!" Caught off guard, Scorpius fell silent. "For shit's sake, next time you feel like Shakespeare, keep it to parchment, will you? Don't make us suffer through it."
His eyes widened slightly, but Rose was too irritated with him to feel bad that she might have offended him. Good humor gone, she was in no mood to handle his dramatics tonight.
"Wow, Rose, what was in your drink that turned you into a bitch?" Al snorted, and Rose scowled. "But seriously, Scorpius – slow down, we can't keep up with you here. Who is Pandora?"
"Who is Renee?" Rose muttered. They were supposed to be best friends – and how fucking dare they leave her out of the loop like this.
"More importantly," Al said loudly, overriding Rose's comment, "what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about life," Scorpius shared, exasperated. "About life and the expectations it gives you and how it steals it away, leaving you more broken than you were to begin with even though nothing had ever changed."
Al blanched. "If that's how you're describing hope, mate, blimey did she do a number on you."
"That's it." Rose stood and reached into her pocket and pulled out whatever few Knuts were lying loose, tossing it onto the table. It wasn't enough to cover her Butterbeers, but fuck if she cared, and they both owed her a fortune anyways. "Invite me back when you two are done with your private girl talk."
She spun on her heel and left, wishing slightly that she could at that moment march up to some stranger and mash her lips against his. Just to show them – fuck them, keeping their little secrets about each other's love lives right in front of her face. She could have her secrets too.
But she didn't, because her life isn't a best-selling romance novel and this was not the kind of bar with enough of a club scene where she could pretend to bump into someone. And because she really didn't have any secrets – because she really was just an open book, and they knew everything about her and apparently she can't say the same for them.
And she was done with Renee. She was done being the one who wasn't invited when one of them managed to snag an extra Quidditch ticket, because even if Al or Scorpius were better than her at flying didn't mean that she didn't enjoy the sport. She was done with being informed after-the-fact about weekend hiking excursions. With being the third wheel in their trio of friendship.
Then she ran into the door.
She sniffed at the booming laughter that followed and pulled rather than pushed the door open, because really – fuck her friends.
…
Al and Scorpius had, wisely, left her alone the day following her anticlimactic exit from the bar – but apparently Scorpius, at least, lacked the wisdom to leave her alone for another one.
"Hey," Scorpius called when he entered her apartment, and though it didn't use to bother her, she hated it so very much right now that he was at liberty to enter and leave her apartment without notice or knocking. "You up for pizza for lunch?"
Rose looked at the note she had spent all of yesterday writing that was pinned the side of the wall that Scorpius couldn't see. At the top of her to-do list she had written, "Get trim – no take-out." And right above that line said, "Go out – but not with them."
"Not interested," Rose replied shortly, flicking her wand as her now empty teacup flew to the sink.
"Oh," Scorpius said, taken aback by her tone as she brushed past him. "Are you going somewhere?"
"To the gym," Rose answered, grabbing a small black bag that she had packed ten minutes earlier. On her to-do list, it was at spot number three: "Get fit – hit the gym."
"Oh," Scorpius said again. "You don't usually go to the gym at this time."
She usually spent this time reading a novel, enjoying the last of her weekend doing nothing. Sometimes Scorpius would pop in, and they'd spend their Sunday doing nothing together, maybe over a game of Exploding Snap. "I rearranged some things in my schedule."
This time, she made sure not to walk into the door.
"I'll see you later. Maybe."
…
He was still there when she came back, feeling sticky and pathetic and desperately out of shape. He, on the other hand, was calm, collected, and disgustingly in shape as he sat on her couch eating pizza that he ordered for himself. And he was definitely not what she wanted to see at the moment, especially when she smelled like, in her opinion, rabbit piss.
"What's this?" he asked, and she noticed that in the hand that wasn't clutching a greasy slice of pizza was clutching a now-greasy piece of paper that was once her to-do list.
She glared at him. "Are you going through my stuff?"
"When have you ever had anything to hide?" he said defensively.
Rose let out a bark of almost-maniac laughter, because of course she always had nothing to hide, but it was okay if he kept a secret or two or three from her because it's just Rose, isn't it? "You don't know my life," she lied, even though he did and that's what she hated.
And for some reason, even though he's known her since they were eleven and he beats her at poker every time because apparently she has a tell – he believes her. And she has no fucking clue why, as he opens and closes his mouth again.
Finally he says accusingly, "This looks like a break-up to-do list."
Her eyebrows relent in surprise before she remembers to furrow them again – because please, it's her, and when was the last time she went on a date, let alone had a real boyfriend to break up with? But in a way – it really was a post-break-up to-do list, wasn't it? She was just trying to break up with her friends rather than a boyfriend.
"You didn't say you were dating anybody," he continued when she didn't answer him, and she felt giddy that he sounded almost as offended about her supposed ex as she did about Renee. Except, of course, that Renee was a real person, unlike her ex, who was an imaginary construct.
"You're not my keeper," Rose scoffed as she tapped her wand into her water bottle, refilling it.
"No, but I'm your best mate."
Was, Rose thought sullenly.
"Look – I'm going to go take a shower, and you can take your pizza and go bother Al instead or something, all right?" Rose said shortly, and without bothering to see his reaction stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door closed.
When she left the bathroom a half hour later, she was relieved to see him gone – gone with the pizza he had ordered, and the to-do list she had written the day before.
…
"No offence, Rosie," Lily said as she waved her wand, "but that sounds really stupid and childish." She held her hands up in the air for Rose to see. "What do you think about this color?"
Rose, who had been lying on Lily's couch, rolled over and squinted at her cousin's nails. "I liked the pink better."
Lily sighed as she waved her wand again, and the blue nail polish changed color to a coral pink. "Really? But I really liked the blue."
"Pink goes better with your robes," Rose said.
"I guess," Lily shrugged. "But back to the gossip – you've been friends with Al for about twenty-five years and Scorpius for fifteen. Doesn't this seem a little, you know, like third year drama?"
"You're the worst sympathizer," Rose grumbled as she rolled back over, throwing a pillow over her face.
"I mean I understand you, of course – I always wondered how you managed to not go crazy with two guys for best friends – but you realize that the entire family's now going to pester you about your hypothetical boyfriend? I mean, I'm not going to tell, of course – but you know how the family is."
Rose groaned. "Merlin do I hate Scorpius right now."
"Don't blame Scorpius, blame Al," Lily said nonchalantly. "Scorpius just asked Al if you had a boyfriend. Al's the one that's been questioning the rest of us incessantly. And it's going to sound really stupid when Uncle Ron demands to know about your ex and you tell him that you're only breaking up with Al and Scorpius."
"It already sounds stupid," Rose admitted into the pillow.
"Hey," Lily said, "get out of that pillow. Tell me what you think about this purple."
Looking over, Rose said, "It's fine. Better than the blue, anyways." She was quiet for a moment before finally bursting out, "I'm just tired of being the afterthought in this friendship, you know? It's been this way since forever, and I'm sick of it, and I just want to shake things up a bit. Meet new people, do new things."
"Scorpius is right, you do sound like a post-break-up story," Lily observed as she began detailing little designs on her nails. "But actually, go out and meet new people. But that doesn't mean you have to cut off your old fifteen-year-long friendships."
"Lils, I just want a break from them," Rose sighed.
"I know, Rosie," Lily said as sympathetically as Lily could ever sound. "But you should just tell them that, before the rumor mill hits up Uncle Ron."
…
The thing is, Lily never had a problem being blunt. It was both her fault and her virtue, and it made her either loved or hated. Rose, while known for sometimes lacking a filter between her mind and her mouth, wasn't quite as capable as being upfront. Confrontational, Rose believed, was a learned trait and one she hadn't yet fully acquired. In fact, her rage quit at the bar was perhaps the most confrontational thing she had ever done. No, it was definitely the most confrontational thing she had ever done, and she had no idea how to handle it. She didn't usually do the whole confrontational thing.
It was actually how she had befriended Scorpius, back in their first year. By being absolutely not confrontational.
"So," he had said, walking over after having checked the assignments sheet, "I guess we're potions partners? I'm Scorpius Malfoy."
He had said this challengingly, as if he dared her to make a comment on how silly his first name sounded or how terrible his surname was. She, for her part, had recognized him as the boy she was supposed to beat on every exam – at least, according to her father. And even though she was certain she wouldn't like him one bit – from his argumentative attitude to her father's advice – she had smiled anyways in response.
"I'm Rose Weasley, but I guess you already knew that."
He then grinned at her receptive attitude (which he would one day later refer to as her "doormat attitude," which she had preferred calling "friendliness"), and with his smile she thought that maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
Then the day before the first Potions exam, he had turned to her and asked if she wanted to study together. Al, sitting on her other side, had overheard.
"I'll come, too! Rosie always has the best notes," Al said, inviting himself as he was apt to – and Rose shrugged and smiled a little at the flattery, and Scorpius said, "Great!"
And so the dynamic was born – two leaders and their tagalong friend who was not confrontational and never seized anything for herself. And that was, Rose thought, the fundamental problem.
And maybe they preferred to hang out with each other because maybe they thought she was boring. That she wouldn't be interested in things like hiking or talking about girls like Renee. And maybe she was a little predictable, but predictability wasn't a bad thing. It was a responsible thing.
Merlin. Rose groaned and hid her face in her hands. She sounded boring to even herself.
She pulled out a new sheet of parchment and scribbled TO-DO at the very top. When she finished it and pinned it back onto her wall, she made sure to charm it so that the likes of Scorpius Malfoy couldn't read what it said this time.