Prologue
Rose Weasley had a fight in her like no other. Her temper was as fiery and wild as her hair. She dove into everything head first; there is only do, there is no try for the red headed temptress. She did not like to lose; second place is only the first of the losers after all. She swore like a sailor but had a smile like some heavenly vixen. Her blue eyes could tell stories by the changing of the shades they made. She was quick witted and sharp tongued. Above all else, she had brains filled with knowledge that would humiliate the smartest of men and a wand quicker than a virgin with a prostitute. She was bloody brilliant and I was in love with her since I was fifteen, even earlier if I'm being honest. Of course, she barely had recognized that I was alive.
When we were at Hogwarts together I was one of her many admirers. Boys wanted her to no end, even though she didn't give most of them the time of day, and girls wanted to be her. She was fairly aloof to it all, much more interested in just being the best at our studies, quidditch and wreaking havoc with her cousins without getting caught. She was successful in everything. I was not, at least not at first. I started to come into my own in fifth year. I became Prefect that year and made the house quidditch team. I became a lot more comfortable with myself and my "Malfoy Looks". Seventh year I made Head Boy, unsurprisingly, and by some act of Merlin I also became Slytherin Quidditch Captain. I thought if anyone actually had a shot at winning Rose's heart at Hogwarts, it would be me.
Alas, I did not win her heart and I am fairly certain if I wasn't who I was and did the things I did, she really wouldn't have even known my name. I did get a snog from her in public once though, one of my greatest Hogwarts moments. It was just for the papers though. Rose Weasley kissing me, Scorpius Malfoy, for the entire wizarding world to see! When she had pulled away she patted my cheek gently and smiled dazzlingly as the cameras at Hogsmeade Station went off. I was hooked. She walked right away after that to board the Hogwarts Express for the return trip home after our fifth year. I started to follow her, but her cousin and my best friend, Albus, tugged at my elbow and carted me off the opposite way on the train, "Sorry mate, she just did it to get back at her dad." He had told me and I knew it had to be true, but I wanted nothing more than it to be a cruel lie for Albus to tell.
That summer I finally accepted the Potter's offer to stay with them for two weeks. As much as I didn't want to admit it, and never did to Albus, I had accepted solely for the possibility to spend time with Rose. Albus had asked for me to visit the previous four years, but I always declined because I knew it was awkward for his parents that their son was best mates with a Malfoy, even though they never were anything but nice to me. Of course unbeknownst to me beforehand, Rose was on holiday in the south of France with her cousin Dominque the two weeks I stayed at the Potters. I did get on well with her brother Hugo though who had been staying there as well at the time.
I spent the following school year infatuated with Rose more than ever and Albus almost shucked me as his best mate because he couldn't take it anymore. We actually rowed for the first time and even got into a fist fight ("Like muggles!" My dad had said) after the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor quidditch match because he had just had enough of me. I thought he was being pretty stroppy, I had only asked him to put in a good word for me with Rose; after all I was his best mate and she was back to being his favorite cousin. I came to realize I had been badgering him for a good three weeks about it before hand and he had just got a T on a major potions assignment, broke up with his first girlfriend, and was livid that his kid sister Lily was going to Hogsmeade with a sixth year Hufflepuff. After that I smartened up a bit, and at least pined for Rose privately. I even started to date someone, Margot Amherst, a fifth year Ravenclaw girl. She was a pretty redhead (not Rose's red though) and smart and funny. I liked her, there wasn't much not to like, and I hoped that she would be able to curb my fixations for Rose. It worked for a bit, until the end of the term and we were snogging and petting each other quite heavily for the first time in the broom closet on the third floor by a statue of a one eyed wizard until I moaned the wrong name. I had my hand up her shirt, my trousers around my ankles and her hand down my boxers and I moaned 'Rose' in between kisses. She quickly retracted her hand from my knob, slapped me and stormed out before I could manage to say anything, let alone pull up my pants and go after her. Needless to say, that was the end of that relationship and I stayed away from redheads after that.
Seventh year was insane. I was named Head Boy and Rose was named Head Girl, not to anyone's surprise. I thought that would definitely be my chance, but over the summer she had started dating Robert Warwick, seventh year Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain. Albus shared it was quite serious, Rose only did serious those days, and that she was already wearing his family insignia ring on a necklace. I wasn't going to allow that to deter me though, surely we'd have some time during Head's duties to get cozy. However, I didn't really get much chance alone with her at all. Whenever we had Head's duties she would have everything done already and just hand it over to me without any of my input to anything. I couldn't even say anything about the work done because it was of course done perfectly. Between quidditch and N.E. I didn't have much free time myself to even create other opportunities. I would see her occasionally revising in our shared Head Common Room, she preferred the library, but she was always with Warwick when she was there. It would set me off because I always got the impression that I had just come in after they had been snogging. Warwick always had a satisfied grin on his face and his robes would be rumpled or off completely, still fully clothed though of course, and Rose would have a flush that I could see down her neck, her mass of red curls springing out at odd angles, and her lips (Merlin, her lips!) would be swollen into a scrumptiously perfect pout.
After graduation I hadn't seen much of Rose Weasley. Occasionally I'd see her out at a restaurant or at a ministry function. She would usually be on Warwick's arm or with a group of family or her girlfriends. We'd exchange pleasantries but nothing more. Reporters and photographers weren't far behind either. They of course had an unhealthy obsession with the Potters and Weasleys ("The Golden Trio!" all the papers called them), and their children weren't safe from it either. They especially had taken a liking to Rose as she would use the media to her advantage the most, but some would still be ruthless and use throw away gossip purely for sales. More often than not my encounters with Rose were through the media. The headlines were always about her various achievements in experimental charms and potions research for St. Mungo's or about her personal life. Ruthless reporters and photographers, gossip mongrels really, would splash the glossies with sensational headlines about rumors of her engagement to Warwick, cheating scandals, their break up, or that they were expecting a bastard child. I never truly believed the gossip but I would wonder at times. I never asked Albus, but he sensed it or something, because he would always find a way to drop the truth in our conversations over a fire whiskey or two.
A few of my mates, Albus, Thomas Nott, Edward Houghtaling, and Macmillius Montague were out for my twenty third birthday. Rose was at one of the many pubs we staggered into. She had been almost scolding us of how hammered we were, but she seemed pretty pissed herself and laughed. Her and her friends Shaina Finnegan and Molly Chapman had a shot with us and Rose kissed my cheek and wished me a 'Happy Birthday' before they left. I figured that would be the highlight of my night and welcomed the boys taking the piss out of me because of it. They all knew that even though we really hadn't even talked over the last four years and I had a few relationships in that time, although nothing too serious, that I still had a thing for her. I let them rag on me for a bit while we slammed back far more fire whiskey than we should have until I had to go spend a Knut. On my way out of the loo I bumped into this beautiful bird with spitfire in her eyes. I had to say something to her and in my drunken state I managed a horrible pick up line about something to do with her waxing my broomstick. She looked me up and down, her blue eyes alight, and laughed as she pulled a business card out of her purse and said, "If you're on the pull, I'm not your bird, but if you really have any broomstick needs stop on by on Monday." She gave me the card and turned back to her friends. I stumbled back to my mates, had a few more drinks, and somehow got back to my flat. The next morning nursing a wicked hangover I brewed some pepper up potion before I had to head out to have Sunday brunch with my father. As I pulled on my cloak I noticed the business card from the night before and laughed as I realized I used a pick up line about a broom to a girl who worked for Alderton's Kwik- Repair Shop.
That Monday I made my way to Diagon Alley on my lunch break. I stopped at the shop with bright green awnings and antique brooms covering the one window and a display case showcasing the latest 'Keitch's Kleaning and Broomstick Servicing Kit' in the other. I opened the door and a bell rang announcing my presence. I looked around the shop and didn't see a clerk but someone called from the back saying they'd be right out. A moment later the dark haired, blue eyed witch from the pub stepped out and smiled. She was still absolutely fit and I was relieved that in my drunken stupor I hadn't imagined her attractiveness. "Scorpius Malfoy." She said simply with a smile on her red lips. I raised my eyebrow and smirked, "I don't remember actually introducing myself. You know me?" She laughed, a throaty laugh not some girlish giggle. "Yeah, I know you. Wouldn't expect you to know me though. You were a fifth year Prefect my first year at Hogwarts. Amalia Alderton." She stepped down from around the counter and extended her hand, I kissed it like some lothario, instead of shaking it and with my best playful smirk I had in my arsenal I said gazing into her eyes, "Pleasure to be reacquainted with you, Amalia." After that lunchtime encounter we made plans to meet up that Saturday night and had a proper date. She realized that I was a far cry from the philanderer I tried to appear as at her shop, but she liked me and agreed to another date. Five more dates after that I had her in my bed and after three months I was meeting her parents and her my father. I had myself my first serious relationship and was falling in love, genuinely absolutely head over heels in love. I didn't think about Rose Weasley and didn't even cast a glance when I saw her name in the papers.
Fast forward almost three years later and here I am today. I've got a great job as the Junior Assistant Minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. I live in a stylish flat in West London. I've got the best mates any wizard could ask for. I have a beautiful girlfriend that would follow me anywhere; Amalia and I are happy as can be, in love and having fun. Nothing could possibly go wrong in my life right now.