tw: drug use, alludes to sex
I don't own HP. This was for Being A Wallflower's Taylor Swift challenge over on HPFC. The song was Treacherous, the pairing Rose/Scorpius. As another warning, this isn't the prettiest fic. It also isn't the longest (obviously).
It was an accident, him tripping at just the right angle to knock her down. What followed, however, was not an accident. What happened next was tongues and teeth and lips. He lay there on her, their faces inches apart, just staring into each other's eyes. Slowly his lips got closer to hers and then they were kissing.
She should have left. She should have stood up and left, but she didn't. She stayed there, by his side, following him, his girlfriend. It was too easy to fall into him, to abandon the good girl for dark makeup, a black leather jacket, combat boots and a small tattoo. The next step, too, was easy. The drugs were easy, him whispering, "Just once, Rosie. Once won't get you hooked." He lied, but it was too late. The slope was treacherous, pulling her back time and time again.
She struggled to escape but he wouldn't let her leave. They wouldn't let her leave, him and the drugs. She had never been addicted; she didn't know what it felt like. It felt like peace and it felt like hell. She was Rose Weasley and she had a problem. They say the first step of recovery is admitting you have a problem. They never mentioned all the rest of the steps in between that and her end goal.
She was doing it, though, turning her back on him and getting sober. It's a clear night in June when she hears a tapping on her window. She opens it and he's there. "Hey babe," he says.
"Stay," she finds herself whispering into his neck hours later.
Some sick part of her whispers that this isn't a choice; that she was destined to fall into him. She pushes that doubt away, but all the same it sticks with her, a warning.
"Nothing safe is worth the drive, Rosie," he tells her as he lets jump off the cliff back into him and that life.
"Rose," one of his mates says. "Rose Weasley."
"Lorcan Scamander," she replies. "You were supposed to be so much."
He raises an eyebrow. "Lysander always had the talent."
"So did Hugo." They smoke together leaning against a car whose owner will wake up wondering what the hell happened.
It's a year later and she's standing in front of a blond boy, one she barely recognizes. "I want to get clean."
"Rose," he whispers.
"I want to get clean," she repeats.
"I am so sorry," he says. "I never should have done this to you."
He helps her, Scorpius, and it may be harder than it was the first time, but with her beautiful blond boy by her side she can do anything.
She's dressed in a sky blue dress and he's wearing jeans and a t-shirt. "I used to think I would never get out of it," she says, the words coming in a rush. "I used to think that all of the daydreams, the small flickers of hope... I thought that they were dangerous. I thought I would never get out."
He flinches and she knows he's always blamed himself for what happened to her. "But you did," he says.
She grabs his hand. "Sometimes safe is worth the drive."
