It felt so nice with her body slightly pressed up against his. He could hear her breathing softly. Even and quiet. She was so close he could count her eyelashes. His eyes moved downward to her lips. How great it must be to kiss those lips.
Countless times he has wanted to lead her into a deserted corridor or drag her into an empty classroom and just kiss her once, slowly and softly. Not like those prats that snog their girlfriends senseless, looking like a pair of savages ripping each other's faces off. No. His kiss would be meaningful. And she would kiss him back in those fantasies, with all the raw passion he felt for her.
No. He mustn't think like that, so he shook the thoughts out of his head, as he continued to stroke her curly red hair. He could not risk their friendship like that. They had been the best of friends ever since she tripped in the hallways, earning a few sniggers from a couple of Slytherins, and he defended her in their first year. They were inseparable, always helping each other and making each other laugh. He was her favorite. He knew that. Sure there was Al, who had been with her practically since birth. And there was Lorcan, her family friend from before Hogwarts. And there were all her girlfriends like Lily and Roxanne. But he was always the first one she went to when something was wrong. He was her shoulder to cry on. When there was exciting news, he was the first to be updated. And there were the hundreds of rambles about clothes or gossip he had to sit through, but he didn't mind. Pulling a good prank with her or even just studying together was reward enough for the brain melting makeup talk.
Their friendship was far too important, as strong as a Hungarian Horntail, too deep and binding for either of them. An intimate relationship would either strengthen their bond until it is more powerful than an Umbreakable Vow or it could weaken it until it is nothing more than a ghost of what it was before, a tiny thread ready to snap, to be severed forever. No. He could never let this happen. He mustn't be selfish and put his petty desires above a magic stronger than any other. He knew she fancied someone, but he didn't have a clue as to who it was. One thing was for sure though: She didn't love him.
Sighing, he looked over at her peaceful face. She stirred slightly, and muttered softly, something nearly inaudible, a small smile forming on her lips. He heard it anyway, as if she used a Sonorus charm to amplify her voice. He drifted off to blissful sleep as her words bounced around his head: I love you, Scorpius. Maybe things really could work out. Now if he could just convince Mr. Weasley to approve of his only daughter dating a good-for-nothing Malfoy.