He was a rather interesting fellow, Scorpius Malfoy. His hair was surprisingly unkept and shaggy for his dapper attire and his notorious last name. His piercing blue eyes surveyed the Great Hall with all the interest in the world, his mouth forming one of the most intriguing facial expressions Rose had ever seen. The edges of his mouth curved up, gaping only a little, the glint of perfect white teeth peeking out from the dark abyss behind his pink lips. However, he was one of the very few first years without a fearful look in his eyes. His fingers were tucked tightly into his pockets, and he stood with his shoulders back. He wasn't afraid. He knew exactly what the Sorting Hat held for him.
Rose felt a shaking shoulder bump hers, and she turned. Albus pulled his jacket tighter around his middle, trying to mask the evident fear that sparked the shivers. An empathetic smile perked onto Rose's face as she touched her cousin's hand softly with hers.
"Al. Stop." Albus Potter swallowed an audible lump and turned his eyes to hers.
"Seriously Rosie, my dad is gonna kill me if I'm not a Gryffindor." He began to swing his body back and forth on the balls of his feet, a tell-tale sign that he was nervous.
"Yes, well," Rose couldn't hide the giggle in her whispered tone, "if you continue to act like this, I think your ship is as good as sunk."
Albus mumbled something inaudible, but rolled his shoulders as Rose's attention was drug back to Professor Minerva McGonagall, who had just called Malfoy's name. He sauntered up the steps with a small smile on his face. A murmur went through the crowd.
She knew what they were saying. Hell, it's what James had said to her mere hours before on the train.
Well that's unusual. A Malfoy who doesn't appear to think he rules the world.
There was an eerie silence as he popped onto the chair and McGonagall slid the hat over his silken hair. She suddenly felt as though the room had shrunk down. Everything was cold as the room held it's breath in anticipation.
She knew what they expected. Powerful, conniving and witty blood slithered through Scorpius Malfoy's veins. It had to be Slytherin. It just had to be.
"An unlikely GRYFFINDOR!" But it wasn't.
Rose watched as the young eleven year old's face turned a sickly color of gray, and he gaped slightly. A roar of shock and congratulations erupted from the Gryffindor table where many of her cousins sat, in shock. Scorpius, for the first time, looked down into the crowd of first years and his eyes found Rose. And Rose found fear.
"Hell," Albus said distantly, "If he can make it into Gryffindor, so can I."
~HP~
"C'mon Rose, stop being a bloody git. Honestly. Let me help you." Scorpius pulled the book away from under her nose.
"Scorpius Malfoy, I do not need your help, nor have I ever needed your help!" She tossed the end of her scarf over her shoulder and retrieved the book, standing from where she had been sitting, laboring over a bit of Transfiguration homework in silence.
The snow brightened his blonde hair. It wasn't quite platinum like his father's, rather a soft, darker color. Her eyes were trained on his. His perpetual smirk played on those very interesting lips.
It was funny how quickly he had come to accept who he was. What he was. A brave and funny Gryffindor had emerged over the last three years, just like the rest of them. He fit in quite well, and in fact had turned a cold wand to a Slytherin or two. If it weren't for the burning hatred her family felt for him, he could have quite possibly have been a wonderful addition to the Burrow's many visitors. Albus seemed to be the only one who could stomach him.
And due to Albus' stomaching of Scorpius Malfoy, and her particular affection for her cousin, Rose was forced to spend an ungodly amount of time with him.
She wasn't quite sure why she hated him so. He wasn't particularly a prat, except for the times that he and Rebecca Longbottom could be seen flirting overzealously from across a chess board. Rebecca was a sweet girl. Rose should have been at least slightly happy for her; she had yet to analyze herself enough to get down to the bottom of the conundrum. He WAS rather witty, funny, and an all together good looking young man. He would have fit in quite well with the Weasley and Potter bunch, had the predilection of ancestry not held them all back.
"Rose," Scorpius smiled softly at her. That damn smile. It made a heat bubble up in her belly and a shaking commence in her knees. Rose Weasley had never truly hated anyone, but she was pretty sure, in all of her thirteen year old knowledge, that this was what it felt like.
"Merlin, must you call me that? I know your Albus' best friend and what not, but you are in NO way mine. Now, good day to you Malfoy."
Rose began to walk away, the snow colder than it had felt in his presence. She chalked that one up to the dilution of her own hatred for him.
Chuckling erupted from behind her. "I'll see you at dinner, Rose."
Yes, an interesting fellow indeed, deserving of her unadulterated hatred.
~HP~
"Rose Weasley, you do NOT have to hate me. I don't want you to hate me." His voice was stern and strong and protective, and she hated it.
"But I do, I do damn you! Malfoy, I want positively nothing to do with you!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. Why did it hurt so much? Why did every time he open his mouth feel as though another knife was about to be tossed at her?
They stood there, in the middle of the common room. Practically the entire house had filtered in, attracted by their shouts. Now they watched as she cried. As the brave, proud Rose Weasley cried.
Even at the ripe old age of sixteen, she hadn't quite been able to pinpoint why it hurt so much to speak to Scorpius Malfoy. That is, until Dominique pointed out a very key piece of information; at her core, she was very similar to one Scorpius Malfoy.
The dominoes had begun to tumble down, and the lightbulbs began to spark. She hated him so thoroughly because she understood him, knew him. She had watched him for six long years of mutual acquaintance. She knew his mannerisms better than any of the girls he flitted about with. She knew that he feared the disappointment of his father perhaps more than she did. She knew that his nose wrinkled when he smelt pumpkin juice and that he was in every way better than her at Transfiguration. She knew that he hungered for her friendship. And everyone around her had realized that she hungered for his.
"Rose, you have hated me for as long as I can remember. You're a smart girl Rosie, I know you don't hate me because your father told you to watch out for me. He never asked that of you. He never asked you to spurn me." Scorpius took a step forward, fire flashing in his light eyes. "I don't give a damn what the rest of your family thinks. They never turned against Al for our friendship. They never stopped loving him. I respect them immensely. I want to be a part of that family. And dammit Rose Weasley, in all honesty, if I believed that you never wanted to see me again you wouldn't. But I don't. So explain to me Rose, explain to me why you hate me in front of our friends and your family. Tell me why you hate me."
Her blood ran cold. Her chocolate eyes dulled for only a moment, though time slowed to a puttering stop. She gazed out at a place she knew as home. Lily looked at her with soft, sympathetic eyes. James' brow was hardened, and he had a hand on her younger brother's shoulder, almost seeming to hold him back. Each Weasley or Potter that found her eyes now seemed to say the same thing.
You don't.
She didn't.
"Scorpius Malfoy, I hate you because you're brilliant, and funny. I hate you because you would fit in so bloody well with my family. I hate you because you understand me and know me better than anyone. I hate you because you make me sick with your beautiful smile and those perfect eyes. My stomach burns when I'm near you, and my skin feels as though every nerve ending is on edge. I hate you because I don't know how not to want to be around you. I hate you because you're so bloody infuriating and because you always get the quaffle before I do. I hate you because your strikingly handsome, and you could have anyone and be a part of any family, but you choose to bother me and mine. And to be quite honest with you Malfoy, I hate you because I don't know what else to call my need for you. I need you. Dammit, I need you and I don't know how to say that."
A collective gasp hissed across the sudden silence of the common room. Scorpius looked as shocked as she felt. Rose attempted to move her feet, but they were frozen, stuck to the ground as though there was some sort of potion holding her there.
His hand reached out, touching the back of her neck. His fingertips burned against her body. Before she could protest, his lips touched hers.
There was the softest hush that fell over the two of them. A ringing in Rose's ears that she knew belonged to the cheers or the groans of others, but it began to die as sensation crawled through her body. Sensation. That was the only word for it. Heat and cold and electricity and power and pain and joy. Sensation.
Slowly, she pulled him close to her body. She kissed him softly, his soft lips greeting hers. His free hand slipped down to her side, touching a smooth bit of exposed skin as his fingers began to twirl up into her curls. Her hands searched his back and her arms closed around his middle, pulling him into her arms. Their bodies melded into one being, brought together in glorious fire.
When he dared pull away, Rose Weasley stood with her eyes closed and her head still slightly tilted. The hush had encompassed them entirely now, and she heard nothing but the sound of his heart. She had never heard such a fast heartbeat.
His lips grazed her ear. Her breath seized in her chest, and her mouth dried up instantly. As he parted his lips, the heat of his breath curved onto her earlobe, and he whispered, "I love you too, Rose Weasley."
Love. Love. Why had it been so hard for her to detect? It was love. It had always been love.
And in that moment, she didn't care if her brother was furious. If her family was frustrated. If her father would be mortified. In that moment, she was wrapped up in the arms of the one man who understood her. In that moment, she realized what love was.
Yes, he was a very interesting fellow. A Slytherin-born Gryffindor with every quality desired in an ally of the Weasley-Potter clan. A brilliantly sweet young man without a hint of arrogance. A man who had overcome the fear of being a Gryffindor. A man who deserved the love of one Rose Weasley, who happened to be a very interesting young woman herself.