Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do, however, own Ciaran Creevey.
A/N: I'm not sure what I think about this. I wrote this in pieces throughout August, and it's been sitting in my fanfiction folder for a while now, but I only just got round to editing it. This shows Rose's boyfriends over the years - five of them. I was going to pair her with a girl, too, but since this was inspired by I Must Not Chase The Boys by Play, and I knew what I wanted my last line to be, I decided against it.
Anyway - enjoy!
Innocence
Everyone was so happy when Rose announced her relationship with Lysander. He was everything the Weasleys could want for a new relative, and she just knew that Grandma Molly was silently hoping that they'd get married when they were old enough. But it was silly of her, really. They were only thirteen, fresh into Third Year.
The only person who expected the worst was Albus, her best friend and cousin. From day one, he kept an extra eye open, paranoid and cautious.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt, Rosie," was his excuse as he sceptically watched Lysander laughing with Dominique across the Ravenclaw common room.
Rose saw this and sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "They're just friends, Al."
"You don't know that."
And in the end, Rose and Lysander didn't work out. They lasted three months, which was more than Albus had expected, but eventually, Rose's heart broke in two when Ciaran Creevey handed her a picture of Lysander and Dominique kissing in the Ravenclaw changing rooms. Albus bit back his "I told you so", replacing it with comforting hugs and words, badmouthing Lysander every chance he got.
Mistake
In Fourth Year, Rose tried again. Her second boyfriend was Ciaran Creevey, a boy in the year above her with curly hair, brown eyes, and a passion for photography. Upon finding Rose's sketchbook in the library, he was ever-so impressed by her drawing skills and tracked her down. The two engaged in a conversation about art for several hours, and in Rose's words, it went from there, really.
Albus was a little less paranoid with Ciaran, still grateful that the boy had exposed Lysander for the cheater he really was, eager to cut him some slack. The family was thrilled, too, because Ciaran was a well-respected Prefect, and they were positive that he wouldn't take her for granted.
And he was great. Rose loved spending time with him, and when he asked, she was more than happy to act as his model, on the agreement that he'd let her sketch him.
But their relationship didn't hold any passion. Their kisses didn't give Rose butterflies, their hugs were no more affectionate than those between Rose and Albus, and it wasn't going anywhere. So Rose called it off, with the promise that they'd remain friends if he wanted to.
Within weeks of the break-up, they were closer than they'd ever been before, and they agreed that it was better this way.
Desperation
Rose was fifteen, in the last half of Fourth Year, when she started looking for something more. She didn't just want to hold hands, to spend time with someone. She wanted passion, heated kisses between classes, whispered sentiments that took her breath away. She wanted to be wanted, to be greeted with more than a hug. She wanted someone to prove their love for her, to show her rather than tell her, to let her know how special she was every single day.
And Scorpius Malfoy gave her all of that. He had her heart at "Hey, Gorgeous." and for Rose, there was no going back. His kisses sent her head spinning, his husky voice left her breathless, his generosity was heart-warming.
She loved nothing more than meeting Scorpius in the Ravenclaw common room after class, letting him pull her up to his dorm, oblivious to Albus's glares as they made their way up the stairs. They'd sit on his bed and do nothing but kiss and talk for hours on end. He made her laugh with his witty comments, sent shivers down her spine with his seductive whispers, gave her goosebumps with every kiss.
The eleventh of June was just like any other day. Scorpius closed the door to his dorm and pulled Rose to the bed, smiling at her gently as he walked backwards. When the back of his knees hit the side of the bed, he held onto her waist and slowly pulled her down until she was laying on top of him. Careful not to move to abruptly, Scorpius wriggled them around so they were lying horizontally, his head on his pillow. Giggling, Rose ducked her head and let her lips slide easily against his.
He held onto her waist, arms wrapped around her protectively, and Rose felt goosebumps rising on her arms as he rubbed her skin with his thumbs. Scorpius rolled the two of them over without breaking the kiss, moving his arms from around her waist to avoid causing her discomfort. He lifted himself up on his knees slightly so he didn't crush her, but their bodies still touched.
Scorpius pulled his mouth away from hers and began kissing her face, whispering at the same time, each word punctuated with a kiss.
"Did I-" Left eyelid. "tell you-" Right eyelid. "-how-" Eyebrow. "-completely-" Cheek. "-stunningly-" Nose. "-breath-taking-" Other cheek. "-you look-" Jaw. "-today?"
He pressed their lips together before she could respond, sending her mind reeling. When he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, Rose replied breathlessly, "You might have mentioned it." Scorpius chuckled and leant in for another kiss, and she sighed dreamily into his mouth as his hands reached under her shirt, tracing patterns on her stomach.
His hands trailed round her sides and she arched upwards ever-so-slightly, allowing him to continue drawing with his fingers on her back. But then his hands were moving upwards, towards her bra clasp, and her heart began to race.
"Scorp," Rose gasped, sitting up quickly and pushing against his chest. He barely moved, but he got the message, removing his hands from under her shirt and dropping his gaze.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I got carried away."
Rose pulled her knees to her chest and leant against the headboard. "I … I can't do this, Scorpius."
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I know you're not ready. I didn't … I don't … I just ..."
"No, I mean … I can't do this … us. You're great, and I love you, and these past few months with you have been some of the best of my life-"
"But?"
"But you want something from me that I'm not ready to give, and rejecting you like that hurts the both of us. We need to stop beating around the bush and realise that this won't work. I'm sorry."
Scorpius stared at his quilt, before saying quietly, "I understand."
"Goodbye," she murmured, kissing his forehead.
And with that, her third relationship failed.
Overwhelming
Rose and Albus lay on their stomachs on the floor of the Ravenclaw common room, long after everyone had gone to bed, studying with each other, just like every other night since Fifth Year began. For years, the two of them had experienced sleeping problems, and finally, they'd found something to do to preoccupy them at night, as opposed to staring at the ceiling of their four-poster beds for hours.
Books piled around them, some open, some stacked up, and they took it in turns to make notes while the other read aloud. Rose scribbled quickly as Albus read in monotone, but when he began a paragraph with several confusing and probably Latin words, she lost it. She stared at the parchment for a moment, trying to take in what Albus was saying, but it was going in one ear and out the other. And then she drifted off, thinking about Scorpius and Ciaran and Lysander, and instantly, her heart sank ...
… along with her head, as she let it fall onto the parchment, accompanied with a groan.
"What's wrong?"
"I miss Scorp. And Ciaran."
"You talk to Ciaran every day."
"Yeah, but I miss … having a boyfriend. I know I sound stupid, and I should be worrying about exams – and you know I am – but there's still room in my head to miss being loved."
"You are loved."
"But not like that. You're a guy, I don't expect you to get it, but … I don't know. If I was talking to Roxie or Lily, they'd understand."
"I swear you girls have telepathic powers. You understand each other so well, and us guys? We don't understand anyone but ourselves."
"We're just more empathetic than you, that's all." Rose rolled over, onto her back, on top of the parchment. She looked up at Albus, who's face was now directly above hers due to the way she rolled, and gave an unenthusiastic smile.
"Right. So, anyway, what exactly is your problem?"
"I told you. I miss being loved, being wanted. Merlin, I sound like some kind of boy-obsessed whore. I don't mean to, but … do you think there's anyone out there who loves me?"
"Yeah."
"Who?"
"I don't know. But you're gorgeous, and you're witty, and you're one of the smartest people I know. You make people laugh when they're down, you never give up, and you brighten everyone's day."
Rose smiled softly. "You really think so?"
"'Course I do, Rosie. And I also think that there has to be someone out there who wants you."
Overwhelmed with emotion, Rose lifted her head up, propped herself on her elbow, and brushed her lips against Albus's. It was so wrong, he was her cousin, but at that moment, Rose didn't care. She pulled back hesitantly and they stared at each other for a moment. Albus's gaze fell to her lips, and he bent his head down, pressing his mouth against hers again.
She put a hand round the back of his neck, running her fingers through his hair while he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Slowly, without breaking the kiss, they sat up, and Rose leant against the nearby sofa. He sat beside her, hand on her waist, and moved his lips eagerly against hers. It was amazing, and neither of them could find it in them to stop.
"Rose, we should-" Kiss.
"Uh-huh." Kiss.
"Are we gonna-" Kiss.
"Nuh-uh." Kiss.
"Okay." Kiss.
They didn't know how long they sat there, but they were so involved in each other that they didn't hear the portrait open, nor the scuffling as several bodies crawled through it. They only realised they had company when someone cleared their throat very close to them. They broke apart and, standing just a few feet away, was Winky the House Elf. Rose gasped and hid her head in Albus's shoulder.
"Ex-excuse me, Mr Potter and Miss Weasley," the House Elf squeaked, "but Winky and House Elves n-need to clean, so Mr Potter and Miss Weasley mustn't be d-down here."
"Winky, can't you do what you do every night? Ignore us? We'll put out the fire when we go to bed."
"E-ever so sorry, Sir, for disturbing you. It's v-very late and Winky d-didn't think you'd still be up. Winky got a g-great shock seeing you here, Sir. Y-you are up a l-lot later that th-than usual, Sir." She bowed, and her nose touched the carpet. "D-don't mind Winky, Sir."
She began to stumble away, but Albus caught hold of her wrist. She looked at him with wide eyes. "Winky, could you, uh, not tell anyone what you just saw?"
"O-of course, Mr Potter, Sir. Winky's lips are s-sealed, Sir."
She dashed off to clean another part of the room, and if it weren't for the tell-tale shuffling of footsteps, Albus would have thought they were alone. Rose pulled back from her cousin's shoulder, blushing, and made to stand, stuttering an apology in a voice quite like Winky's. Albus grabbed her hand and pulled her back down, however, and moved in to kiss her again.
"Don't apologise," he whispered, his mouth mere centimetres from hers. "we'll have time for regret later."
And then he was kissing her again, and it was so fantastic that all Rose could think was Albus, and all Albus could think was Rose, and nothing else mattered but them. But oh, how they regretted it in the morning.
Rebellion
It was only a matter of time before Rose, now seventeen and ready for fun, returned to Scorpius Malfoy. She'd been considering it for a while, catching herself staring at him in classes, and watching him stare back. It was inevitable, really, that one day, she'd approach him, or he'd approach her.
But it was a quip from her parents at the end of the summer that done it, that destroyed any existing resistance, and on the first day of Seventh Year, she was eager to track him down.
"Behave now, Sweetie," her mother had said, pulling her into a hug.
"Of course she'll behave, Hermione," her dad said before Rose could even open her mouth. "since when has she broken the rules? Just too innocent. Ain't that right, Rosie? They didn't make you Head Girl for nothing."
And that right there was what snapped the string. Since when has she broken the rules? Oh, look at our Rosie, the bloody goodie-two-shoes. Never does a single thing wrong, that girl. Innocent as can be.
She was oblivious to her mother's remark of "I was Head Girl and I'd broken more rules than most people." and her father's reply, "But it was all for the greater good, Love." She merely hugged them goodbye, yelled at her brother for putting Louis in a headlock, and made her way onto the train, lugging her trunk behind her.
Inside, she was fuming. Innocent. She wasn't innocent. While it's true that she tried to stay out of trouble, she'd broken plenty of rules. She'd gotten detention before, had been caught sneaking around at night, talked back to the teachers. They just didn't know about it.
As she sat down with Albus, she frowned and stared out of the window for a good twenty minutes, watching London and the countryside fly past her. And then she turned to Albus, and asked quite suddenly, "Do you think I'm innocent?"
"Innocent? You?" Albus let out a chuckle. "No, Rosie, I don't."
Rose let out the breath she'd been holding. "Good."
A few minutes of silence passed and Rose went back to staring out the window, but the compartment door slid open and Dominique, Lysander and Lorcan entered, throwing themselves onto the seats.
"Do you think I'm innocent?" Rose asked in an almost paranoid fashion, looking at them with wide eyes.
Lorcan laughed. "It's nice to see you, too."
"Answer my question."
Dominique leant her head on Lysander's shoulder, murmured, "Nope." and closed her eyes.
The twins, in unison, said, "No?" almost cautiously, as if they were worried that it was the wrong answer.
"Good."
"May I ask why you're asking?"
"No, you may not," Rose said, smiling slyly as she knew what she had to do.
After the feast, in the common room, Rose pulled Scorpius aside. A few well-selected words, a kiss, and a flirtatious smile had Scorpius grinning from ear to ear, pulling her into a tight hug.
Three months later, she lost her virginity to only guy who had a chance at taking it.
Comfortable
But Scorpius and Rose only lasted a year and a half. Rose went to work in Wales with the Scamander twins and Dominique, while Scorpius wanted to go overseas for Quidditch. They tried to make a long-distance relationship work, but it was too difficult, too stressful, too painful. And so, for their own health and sanity, they parted.
And Rose bounced to Lorcan.
Within weeks of the break-up, Lorcan and Rose were flirting, teasing, testing. It wasn't long before he asked her on a date, before they became a proper couple. Lorcan was everything Rose's previous boyfriends lacked, and more. He could be passionate and fiery, chivalrous and kind, caring and protective. He knew when she wanted fun, and when she wanted to be alone, and when she needed to cuddle. He knew her barriers, and how to stay within them.
He made her comfortable. Weeks turned into months, which turned into years, and their love only grew stronger, their passion more passion, their relationship more intense.
They were the Golden Couple, with Lysander and Dominique by their side. Within a few years, Rose was walking down the aisle, and they would have done it so much sooner but Ron was reluctant to see his baby girl grow up, and so they waited. For him. And it wasn't long after their wedding that Rose rushed up to Lorcan, a wide smile on her face as she said "I'm pregnant." with full confidence and pride in her voice. One child turned into two, which turned into four when Rose's third pregnancy blessed them with twins.
In school, Rose had seen herself settling, but not so soon, and not with Lorcan. When fourteen-year-old Rosie had sat in her dorm, pondering of the future, she'd seen a thirty-five year old with a ring on her finger, a man behind her, a five year old by her side, and a baby in her arms. The man changed as her interests did, but it was always the same image. She never expected to marry before the age of twenty-five, at least, but she had. And had kids, too.
Sometimes, she wondered why she wasn't freaking out, but Lorcan made her feel so damn comfortable, she didn't see the point in waiting. With Lorcan, she was beyond happy. She was in love. And so there was no point in holding back, in resisting.
Rose was done with chasing the boys.
A/N: Well, there you go. Still not sure how I feel. I don't love it, but I don't hate it ... =/
Review?