Oh yes, this is my ship… mwa ha ha ha…

She wandered the halls of Hogwarts, trying to find her Herbology class, with no positive outcomes. She'd tried asking, only to be denied help by several seventh-years. Checking her watch, she determined she had about ten minutes left until class started.

If Hugo was here, he'd make her laugh or smile or something. But, lucky her, she was a year older and he was just a fourth-year. She would have asked James, but he was a year older and already had quite a large group of friends. He'd be surrounded by them, she knew, and she wouldn't get a chance. Besides, sixth-years didn't associate with fifth-years.

Albus was probably just as lost as her, she concluded. He was always afraid of everything, but his brother was James. That could earn him some friends, at least.

So she was left on her own to figure out where her class was. Normally it wasn't this hard, but they were having class in an actual room, a spare classroom if you will. This is your fifth year, Rose, she scolded herself. You should know where you're going. But then again, it was a whole new and different room.

She was so absorbed in her thinking that she didn't notice the boy walking. He walked straight into her, his bag swinging in front of him, and hitting her in the stomach. She was knocked to the ground, and her arms automatically went backwards, hitting the stone floor hard while making a quite loud clapping noise. Her mouth dropped open, and she looked up to see who had knocked her over.

Her eyes were met with a pale boy. Blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and pointed features-sort of like a hawk, she noticed. If a hawk had a human body.

The boy was picking up his books, and when he finished, he glanced upward, as if to check if anyone had seen what he had done. When his eyes went back down to gather his bag up, he caught sight of the girl, flaming red hair and warm brown eyes. At seeing someone, his eyes widened, and he hastened to apologize. "Oh, sorry, I thought I had run into a wall of sorts," he improvised, not wanting to admit that he had been careless and was thinking of something else.

She stared at him for a moment. Her eyes, once a warm and comforting brown, were now narrowed down into two light brown slits and judging him. She finally came up with an answer. "Oh, I'm a wall now?"

His eyes widened a bit at her; she had caught him off guard. "No, I just meant…ah, never mind. Sorry. I meant sorry." He hoped that this girl would leave him alone. She looked like the book type-the one with barely any friends, quiet, smart. He didn't really deal around those; his father had warned against them. Yet he found himself saying, "Are-uh, are you lost?" He didn't mean to ask that, to offer help in any way, but it had slipped out of his mouth, something like someone jumping into a lake-still water, but then a big splash.

She looked up at him again after dusting herself off. He noticed she was a few inches shorter than him, but only a few, and she stood up tall, so you could barely tell. But he was watching her intently. "No, not lost. Not really. I just…couldn't find a new room. I've got it now, thanks." She made a move as to get away from him.

He stopped her with his arm, a vice like grip around her. He was curious, and his father's rules wouldn't have obstructed that any day. "Where are you going exactly?"

She had spun around when his hand collided with her wrist, and now her eyes moved up from that to his very own eyes. Studying, he'd like to think. "Herbology," she said slowly, carefully, cautious, as if measuring what he would say to that. To her surprise, he smiled-just a bit, enough for her to just barely catch before it was gone.

"I am too," the boy said. "I can help you there if you want-I know they've moved it to another class, don't lie."

She was still staring at him-incredulously. Wasn't this what she had wanted, some help? Well, yes, it was, but not from the boy who had bumped into her in the hallway. Anyone else, she decided. He just didn't seem right. She gave him a once-over and found her answer-his house. "But you're a Slytherin, I'm a Gryffindor. It just wouldn't do, and I'm wasting time." She didn't thank him for the offer, his house wouldn't permit that. She just turned to leave, for the second time, his hand long gone from her wrist.

He gave a short laugh. A fleeting one, gone like a summer breeze, unable to survive in its environment. "I'm sure being late is more worrisome for you," he teased her.

Her face turned almost as red as her hair and she gave out a huff of annoyance. "Fine. But you'd better not get me into any sort of trouble, alright?"

He agreed, somewhat enlightened by her personality, and showed her the way to class. She went in first, and he came in two minutes later. The only place left was one next to her, the girl from the hallway.

"Alright, you want to copy down these notes," Professor Longbottom said.

"So, your name?" The boy asked her. He was copying down his notes, glancing up and down from the board to his parchment, as if telling everyone he wasn't talking. She had already memorized the notes, and was almost finished writing them down.

Once she had finished, she turned and faced him. "You're a Slytherin. I'm a Gryffindor. That should mean something." This was followed with a pointed look, for now he was done and was looking at her, too.

"It's a house, that shouldn't mean anything," he protested. There was something about this girl-like she was a rebel to her own kind, her own self, which attracted him. Maybe as a friend, maybe as something more, he didn't know. But getting to know her was okay with him, despite his dad's warnings.

"Rose, Rose Granger. And that should mean something to you; I know your lot hates me." She gave him a smug look, and he couldn't help but thinking how many aspects to her there were.

He rolled the name around his head, trying to place it. And when he did, he realized he was breaking every unwritten rule set in place, befriending this girl. But he didn't care at all. "I did place it," he admitted.

"And what? Now you ought to go sit somewhere else; people are looking anyways. They know who I am; your whole house hates me. I'd venture and say your parents do too, judging by your looks?"

Her voice went up at the end, making it seem like a question instead of a bold statement. "Scorpius Malfoy, but you knew that."

She nodded, mostly for her own benefit, to confirm what she'd taken a stab at. She didn't understand why he was doing all of this. There were reasons to everything, why didn't he understand the reasons his house-maybe even family-put in place? Even if he didn't, why couldn't he respect them? "This can't happen. Our houses loathe each other. You understand this, right? Any friendship, acquaintanceship, romance-it can't happen." She had blushed the slightest bit at the last part, Scorpius thought. But who wouldn't, he countered.

He decided to take that leap, something he'd never done. She had brought out something in him, a daring side instead of the good boy. "Oh, but I don't care," he threw out, quiet, softly, and just a little bit carelessly.

Her mouth dropped open ever so slightly. And then she thought about it, really thought about it, and came to her conclusion. "You know, I might not either."

I know Scorpius came off as strong. But seriously, fifteen year old boys like to flirt, so pfft. Glargh. Too much thinking.

Review my lovelies!

KYLiE