Note: This story is dedicated and written for Lizzy (SiriusMarauderFan)! Using the prompts: ScorpiusRose - "Getting sick isn't like it used to be. I remember being pampered and tended to, not abused!" / "Stop being dramatic. So what if the soup was too hot? I tried warning you." This is also a next-gen story.


Rose was retrieving the tea kettle from the kitchen stove. She was used to the routine of setting up the tea kettle ever since she decided to live with her best friend turned boyfriend, Scorpius. Every time she would set the kettle up for tea it was when she was anxious, annoyed, or deeply thinking.

This was one of those days she was annoyed, which was caused by its usual source: Scorpius.

He was sick (not that she didn't want to help him feel better) but he was being a complete prat about it. For the past month Scorpius had been catching fevers, and was going to the extremes over them.

"When I die, will you please tell everyone to wear brighter colors for my funeral?" he called out from the bedroom.

She took a deep breath as she poured them both some tea, setting the drinks on the tray along with soup with a recipe her mother taught her after she finished pouring them. Once everything was placed perfectly, Rose carefully picked up the tray and walked slowly out of the kitchen.

"And make sure that it's not any of those fancy colors. They can't outshine my death suit," she heard him say as she walked into the corridor where their room was placed.

It took every ounce of her being not to roll her eyes before she arrived at the door. Seeing it was slightly ajar (though she had no doubt he'd have made sure he was heard even with the door shut), Rose shifted to the side, so she could use her hip to bump the door wide enough for her to push through.

Successful, she made a tiny noise, but she was met with the sight of her boyfriend. His platinum blond hair was sticking to his face from sweat, and he was slightly paler than usual. His clothing light, only consisting of a white t-shirt and jogging pants. He wasn't under the covers; instead, he was lying on his back with his arms spread open.

"I feel like I'm going to die," he whined before a cough erupted from his throat.

"It's only a minor cold, Scorpius," Rose said. "You're being dramatic."

His eyes shot over to her position next to the bed. She set the tea tray down and placed her hands on her hips.

"I don't get sick, Rosie," he urged. "So feeling this feels like I'm walking in slimy shoes. Except all over my body."

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. "For the thousandth time, that is from the potions your father sent over."

"My father will hear about this," he muttered. "Trying to poison me…"

"Better him than me," Rose retorted, grabbing one of the tea cups and the soup bowl. "I brought this for you." She passed it along to him as he sat up. Well, 'struggling' to sit up. Honestly, he could have been an actor for this display. "Now be careful, both the tea and soup are fresh from the stove, so they'll be hot."

She took his silence as acceptance (or he was ignoring her again) and grabbed her own tea along with a book from the bookshelf, making her way to the chair set in the corner of the room. Her bottom didn't even make contact with the chair before Scorpius yelped.

"My life! My soul! My tongue! It burns!" he cried, the tea cup and soup bowl on the nightstand.

Rose sighed and placed her items on the other dresser in the room, folding her arms at her boyfriend. "Really Scorp? Not even two minutes. This has to be a new record."

He groaned, lying on his side and holding one of the bed pillows close to his chest. "Getting sick isn't like it used to be. I remember being pampered and tended to, not abused!"

Rose scoffed. "Stop being dramatic. So what if the soup was too hot? I tried warning you."

"You didn't warn me good enough." He sniffed into the pillow.

The witch groaned and sat beside him on the bed. She placed the back of her hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature. He was barely warm, and here he was making a huge fit about it. She slapped his forehead, causing him to yelp again.

"What's that for?" he demanded.

"You barely have a fever, you arse!" she replied, fists clenched. Rose closed her eyes and took calming breaths. Mr. Malfoy's potion must have worked, but how long ago it was since it worked was unknown to Rose. She wasn't surprised that he went to the extent of making himself appear sicker than he was; it's what he did when he wanted her company.

Knowing that, Rose realized she couldn't be incredibly mad at him. With so much time she spent at the Ministry with her mother, Scorpius would try anything to keep her around. Apparently dramatizing his sickness was one of those instances now.

"You're such an idiot. Why do I even bother?" she said finally, drifting out of her thoughts.

"Because you love me," he replied surprisingly cheeky, turning to face her, "and you gave me this ten years ago." He gestured to the friendship bracelet on his wrist. "So you're stuck with me for life."

She remembered that day well. She made it and gave it to him in Hogwarts after Transfiguration, promising Scorpius if he wore it that she'd always be there. Of course, he'd use that against her now. "Couldn't you just lose the bracelet and pretend that it never happened?" Rose said as a smile tugged at her lips.

His grey eyes met hers, and despite him appearing sick, he still managed to take her breath away. "Not when you have magic, Rosie," he replied. "A charm here and there, and this thing will never leave my presence. And because my heart wouldn't let me lose it or you. There's no escaping me now, Rose Granger-Weasley."

Even after being an arse and exaggerating his sickness, he still managed to be sweet.


A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments)

Assignment #12 Muggle Studies Task 2 - write about someone dramatic

Word Count: 1,036