I don't own Harry Potter, though I wish I did. Enjoy!

Being head girl was fun. Sometimes. Unless, you know, you have to share a dormitory with Malfoy. And most of the time it doesn't bother me. I mean, yes, we get into fights and we argue frequently, but aside from that, we tend to stay away from each other.

But it seemed like this week Malfoy, bloody git that he is, was trying to drive me up the wall. I wouldn't even be looking at him, or remotely near him, but across the room, he'd make some snide little remark about me whilst reading a book or writing an essay. At first, he was easy to ignore. I mean yes, it was a bit distracting, but I was able to block most of it out and pretend I hadn't heard him, but today, all his little jabs had been about how 'perfect' I was, and for some reason, that just really got under my skin.

"Bet you've never even lied to your parents, huh. It would tarnish your spotless little reputation?" he called from the sofa across the room. I peered up at him and held his bored gaze with a fierce glare, before hunching back over my charms essay.

"Wouldn't want mommy and daddy thinking you were anything less than perfect." He said nonchalantly while tossing a rubber ball up in the air and catching it again. The quill in my hand snapped, splashing ink everywhere, and I shot up from the desk, the chair skidding a few feet behind me before tumbling over with a bang. I marched over until I was within arms reach of him, and he stood to meet me, towering over me by a few inches and tossing the ball from hand to hand. I didn't know if it was adrenalin or anger, but my arms and hands were shaking, and my heart was racing at a near dangerous speed. Letting out a strangled scream, I snatched the ball out of the air and hurled it against the wall, ignoring the sound of glass breaking as it hit a picture, and clutched my head.

"Shut up, just, SHUT UP!" I shrieked at him, wiping away the hot, angry tears rolling down my face. He looked at me in disbelief, his hands twitching as if he wasn't sure what to do with them, and it occurred to me that for the first time, Scorpius Malfoy didn't know what to say to me. "I am NOT perfect, you bloody oaf!" I took a step back and pulled my wand out of my pocket, casting a spell over myself that would get rid of the concealment charm I had put on myself this morning, just like I had been doing for the past two years. Grasping the hem of my shirt, I tugged it off and dropped it to the floor, leaving me in only my jean shorts and a gray lace bra, my auburn hair tumbling over my shoulders and brushing the tips of my breasts. For a moment, Scorpius' eyes bugged out and he gaped like a fish, then his eyes zeroed in on what I had intended to show him and clenched his jaw while grabbing my arm, turning it over to look closely.

"What the HELL Rose." I met his astonished, and slightly angry eyes with a cold glare.

"This one," I said, while tracing one of the many scars I had on my arms, "Is from three years ago, when I got caught in the middle of a gang fight downtown. And this one," I told him, while fingering a long, ugly scar that started on my lower back and wrapped around my torso, "Is from last year. When my old boyfriend thought I had cheated on him and decided to teach me a lesson." Scorpius' exhaled loudly and looked at me with disbelief. "These ones are from that same night." I told him while pointing to several burn marks on my stomach. "The rest are from old death eaters who think its fun to mess with the children of war hero's." He closed his eyes and swallowed slowly before licking his lips. "But this one," I trailed my finger along a relatively new scar above my left breast, and he opened his eyes to look at the mark I was talking about. "This one is my personal favorite. It's from about three months ago when I took a knife. I tried to make it all go away, but I missed my heart, and the stab only penetrated my muscle." His eyes flashed up to mine in alarm and I jerked my arm away from his grasp.

"I'm no where near perfect, Malfoy. So next time you think that about me, imagine me lying unconscious on a tile floor with a knife sticking out of my chest. It's how my parents found me." I bent down and grabbed my shirt, then turned and retreated into my room, shutting the door soundly behind me and going to lie down on my bed. I guess Scorpius was pretty quiet though, because the next thing I knew, a warm, rough hand had closed around my wrist and I was being pulled into a solid chest.

"I'm sorry." He crooned into my hair. "I'm so, so sorry."

I lost it.

It was the last straw that broke the camels back, and I clutched his shirt in my hands, sobbing into it. After a few moments, I reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, leaning up on my toes to seal my lips over his.

Things kind of escalated from there.

I was trying to think of how I was going to get out of this without too many strings while laying in my bed, the sheet wrapped around my naked body while I traced patterns on Scorpius' chest. One of his arms was draped loosely around me, and the other was tucked beneath his head while he stared at the ceiling.

"How many people know?" his warm baritone shook me from my dream state and I looked up at him. "The scars." He repeated. "How many people know?"

"My parents. You. That's it." He nodded tersely and reached up to stroke my hair. "I didn't mean to offend you." He whispered. "I was jealous, because I heard you had gone to Hogsmeade with Bryant Nichols, and it made me realize something. From the outside, your life looks pretty damn good Rose," I blushed lightly at his use of my first name, "and I realized for the first time, that I might not fit into it like I thought I could." A cold weight dropped into my stomach and I sat up, taking the sheets with me as I stood and paced across the floor. Scorpius stared at me, seemingly unbothered by his lack of clothing.

"What, so, now that you know my dirty little secret, and you realize I'm not as golden and pretty as you thought I was, It's okay to be into me again, because I'm damaged goods? God, that's so like you!" I let out a sad laugh and leaned against the wall. "You were angry because you thought I was special, but now that you realize that I'm not all that, it's okay to be with me because MY sob story is even worse than yours is."

He didn't flinch. "Think, not thought." He corrected, his gray eyes watching me softly. "I think you're something special. Just because you have scars, literally and figuratively, doesn't mean I don't think you're amazing." He got out of bed and moved towards me, until he was able to grasp my shoulders. "And for the record," he said while steering me back to the bed, climbing on top of me when I was laying back down, "I think you're beautiful." He kissed the scars on my shoulders and slowly tugged the sheet down, kissing every mar he came across until the sheet lay on the floor.

"I'm not going to say I love you." He whispered against my lips before pressing down gently. "Because I'm not sure of that. Yet. But I do care about you a lot. I hope you know that." He pressed his lips against mine again and trailed a finger down my side, causing me to smile against his mouth. Reaching up, I tangled my arms around his neck and threw a leg around his waist, shivering slightly at the feel of him against me.

"I care about you too, Scorpius." I murmured, gasping slightly as he trailed a wet line of kisses down my jaw and neck. It was his turn to smile and he flipped us over so that he was underneath me. He grabbed the sheet from the floor and draped it over out bodies.

"I like it when you say my name. So… where from here? Dating? I'd love to hold your hand in public."

I laughed lightly. "Yeah. That sounds… nice."

I realized suddenly that I wasn't so worried about the strings anymore.

Wow… that was… darker(?) than usual.

Anyways, review please!

-agt