A/N: Hi! This is my first fanfic ever. I was a little iffy about writing in first person perspective, as I normally don't, nevertheless I gave it a fair crack of the whip. That said, constructive criticism is always much appreciated. :) Though, a little bit of niceness is okay too.

This is a songfic, but I didn't want the title to be "Iris" as the song is titled, hence I went with "I Just Want You To Know Who I Am", which is probably the most repeated line of the song. Oh, and though I'm sure you could've figured it out anyway, the bold italics are the lyrics and the section that is all in italics is a flashback.

Anyway, please review! I will be forever thankful. :D

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, it is true, I do not own anything. All recognisable characters and locations etc. belong to the absolute literary genius J.K. Rowling. Also, the beautiful song "Iris" could never have been crafted by me, and belongs to the Goo Goo Dolls.

I Just Want You To Know Who I Am

And I'd give up forever to touch you

I, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, have been watching Rose Weasley from afar, and on the rare occasion up-close, for the past six years of our time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not in the manner of a mad raving lunatic or barmy stalker, mind you, but simply as an intrigued being. I have, from the very first time I saw her, been intrigued by the girl with the bushy red hair and the earth coloured eyes. I'm not sure what it was about her that initially caught my attention; perhaps the stern gaze she'd placed upon her cousin as he teased his little brother at Platform Nine and Three Quarters in our first year. Perhaps it was the unyielding stance she'd taken, with her hands on her hips as she shot daggers at her cousins with those earthen eyes. Perhaps it was neither, perhaps it was the fact that my father had told me to avoid the entire Weasley and Potter family, for reasons I didn't know at the time – it added another mystery to my already peaked curiosity of the girl. The point is, I've been intrigued by her for a very long time. This interest, it seems, is completely and utterly unrequited.

During my first year, it became quite evident that Rose had no wish to associate with me at all, despite the fact that I'd become quite good friends with her 'favourite' cousin, Albus Potter. My father hadn't been pleased, but he wasn't disdainful either, he'd still refused to tell me why I ought to be cautious of befriending the Potters or Weasleys. I had never been told why my family was despised so much, or why there was bad blood between the Potters and Weasleys and the Malfoys. Yet, after my first year, and the unrelenting loathing and ridicule I'd received from a fair number of fellow students, my father unveiled the dark past of our family to me. After being told, I'd gathered that perhaps this was the basis for Rose Weasley's cold indifference. And it bothers me that this may be, even after six years of people presuming the worst from me. It is her indifference that bothers me –her prejudice. And I know that she is prejudiced, I gathered it from the one and only time we've ever had a conversation. It was in first year, during Potions, and had (now) unsurprisingly ended with her spitting the words "Sod off, Malfoy; I don't need help from the likes of you!" Since then, I have observed from afar, forever intrigued. But I wish, for once, she would just open up those beautiful earthen eyes and really look at me, see me.

But that is wishful thinking, for I know it won't happen. So for now, I am content with observing from afar. Perhaps one day, perhaps this year – our last year – I will break through that hard exterior of hers and make her notice me. Maybe then, maybe then she would let me touch her. And I don't mean in a physical manner (though I wouldn't complain), I simply mean, I would give anything, forever even, for Rose Weasley to let me in. To let me see beyond the steely barriers I know are just a facade.

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

It has been two months since my first encounter with Rose after our horrific first year. After six long years, her barriers remain intact, she is as unbreakable and formidable as ever, but with time, I believe I can succeed in breaking her down. It seems so brutal, even to my own conscience, but since our first (massively futile) argument two months ago, I desire nothing more than to prove her wrong. To prove to her that the Scorpius Malfoy she knows and holds in her head as pompous and pure-blood git is not me. It is not me at all. Sure, I may be arrogant, I may argue with her over futile and sometimes touchy subjects, sneering and smirking in what others deem typically Malfoy, and occasionally I may slip up and insult her family, purely in the heat of the moment. But I do not and never will, believe in the ridiculous blood status my grandfather so naively lived by. If only she would believe that.

But now, two months after our first encounter, I have an inkling that I am, in fact, beginning to quash her seemingly justified prejudice against me. We had another argument today, like most days since the first, two months ago. And I liked it, like I enjoy all our other arguments, because it means she has finally noticed me, and can no longer ignore me. She may not admit it, she may never admit it, but I know that she enjoys it too. I can tell. Even if she's yelling a hole in her throat at me, she does it with such passion that I know she enjoys it. I know that if I throw her a smirk, a snide remark without true meaning, I know she will take the bait, unable to resist the opportunity to voice her distaste and resentment of me and my family. And I know this should pain me, for I wish she wouldn't be prejudiced, but it doesn't.

Instead of letting my eyes well up like they, on occasion, traitorously threaten to, I force my face into a sneer, and I insult her like she expects me to. I spit her surname with repulsion like she does mine, I accuse her of many things, and I tease her about her appearance, though I think she is beautiful. And I do all this, because despite the fact that it pains me almost physically to do so, it means that she has to notice me, has to respond. I realise now that I haven't and probably never have been (not since third year, anyway), a simply intrigued being. No, I have not been veryintrigued with Rose Weasley for the past four years; I have been very in love with her. And it might seem a ridiculous notion to insult and infuriate the one you love, but in doing so it means that I have managed to get underneath her milky freckled skin. It means that finally, she feels me somehow. Perhaps not physically, and perhaps not in any agreeable or pleasant manner, but nevertheless, it means I am that much closer to breaking down her resolve. And I will be unrelenting, she will see me. Eventually.

You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't wanna go home right now.

Halloween at Hogwarts was possibly the best and most memorable time of my years here. Why? It may be because this year, the Heads (none other than the beautiful Rose herself, and Albus) managed to arrange and gain approval for a ball. It was all anyone talked about for weeks. I wouldn't have been so excited if it weren't for the fact that in the months prior, Rose's formidable barricade was showing significant signs of cracking. I had been wearing her down. Sure, I am certain she still believes me to be a pompous git and all, but her arguments don't seem so malicious. Perhaps I am not being perceptive, but merely creating my own fantasy that she is finally breaking, but all the same it makes no difference. I still love her. And I still have hope.

So that was the basis of my happiness for the Halloween ball. Although I had a date I didn't like, and although I knew she would undoubtedly have one she did, it didn't change a single thing. I simply observed, from afar, as always, ignoring the green monster in my chest that threatened to attack her date. I had no need to cause an argument with her that night, for I was happy observing. I was elated, beyond belief, however, when it came the time for the traditional dances. During one such dance, partners were required to change, and for a fleeting moment, I was able to dance with Rose.

When she had realised it was me, she'd stiffened in my grasp. But I paid no heed. I simply observed. She had worn a simple flowing gown, deep violet, which had an open back, exposing her milky white skin – skin that I'd touched; skin so smooth and pale it was angelic. For once, she'd let her hair out. It had fallen below her shoulder blades in deep red, bouncing curls. She was beautiful and I'd acted on the impulse to tell her so.

"Rose," she'd looked up into my eyes in surprise then, and I'd almost lost my nerve, "you look very beautiful tonight."

She had frowned and searched my eyes curiously, and I'd been certain she was hoping to find them mocking. But they weren't, for I had been gazing at her intently, hoping she would see past my facade, my barriers. And it had seemed as though she did. For the first time ever, she had smiled at me. Not dryly, not in mocking. It had been a genuine warm and vibrant smile.

She'd then said, in the softest voice I'd ever heard, "Thankyou, Scorpius."

And before I'd had the opportunity to say more, react to her using my first name, it had been time for the partner change, and she'd been whisked away by another man. I'd stared at her longingly for the remainder of the night. And I'm sure that she had noticed, for on occasion she'd glanced back.

Tonight, it was the closest I have ever been to her, the closest glimpse I have ever seen of my dreams. The closest I have ever been to my own version of Heaven. And I hadn't wanted to leave that Heavenly place, but I had. And now, merely two hours after my Heavenly experience, I am restless, restless because she'd called me Scorpius, restless because she'd smiled at me. I am pathetic. So stupidly in love with a girl who is so stupidly prejudiced. But, she had smiled at me and called me Scorpius. So now I am restless, because not only am I pathetic, but I am sure that I have almost broken down her resolve. She is almost able to see me. Now I must wait. Now I must discard my facade and allow her to see, but will she? Can she?

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

Sooner or later it's over

I just don't want to miss you tonight.

Rose has continued to argue fruitlessly with me since the Halloween ball. When I'd tried to discard my usual arrogant facade, she'd commented with something like: "Oh, no witty retort, Malfoy? No sneer? No self-centred smirk?" I'd only smiled in reply, or simply said, "No." And I'm sure that had unnerved her - that I wasn't being who she thought I was. So she'd revert to insulting my father, knowing that I would be unable to resist. For though it didn't bother me that much anymore, and I could handle such ridicule, after I'd heard her say my name – Scorpius – and after she'd genuinely smiled at me, after she'd caught a glimpse of me, I could not take it. So I'd become frustrated and argued back. And so our futile arguments continued. Though, it seemed it was half-hearted, on both our counts. I'd noticed how her smirks were almost smiles, her stern tone almost mocking itself; her threats and insults had even become somewhat feeble. And I'm sure that everyone had noticed the change in my demeanour. Although she would insult my father in order to get a rise out of me, I'd still forgive her; I'd still attempt cordial behaviour before donning my mask. And now, I still don't know if she has noticed the change in my demeanour. I don't know if she has finally seen me. I have no clue as to how she truly feels. For although I've been somewhat (okay, so very) studious of her behaviour for the past six and a half years, the only thing I have been able to perceive of late is that her attempts to insult me have become feeble. And I don't know whether or not this indicates the fall of her great defences, or simply exasperation of my efforts.

I shall know by the end of these holidays, for I am staying with Albus Potter, who has become my closest companion in our time at Hogwarts (much to the distaste of his Uncle Ron, his brother, James, and his cousins Freddie and Louis). We are to spend the last week of our break, and Christmas (for it is the Christmas holidays), at the Burrow, as I've been told it is tradition in the Weasley and Potter families. My father, I'm quite certain, had almost had a heart palpitation when I'd told him this. He couldn't believe that Harry Potter, who had despised my father when younger, was allowing me not only to spend the entire break with his family, but inviting me to a traditional gathering with the Weasleys. I'd then explained to him how Mr Potter is quite an understanding person, and that he believed me when I told him how my father had changed. Regardless, the point is, it is Christmas Eve, and it is my second night at the Burrow.

I'd already known how large and rowdy the families were from observation at Hogwarts, and Al's information of course. But being here, and witnessing a mass gathering, surprised me. Pleasantly. Everyone was accepting of me, and I'd assumed it was due to Mr Potter's approval that they had, despite Rose's father's wariness of me – he constantly shot me furtive glares whenever near me. And I felt comfortable with them, I felt like I belonged. It's not that my own mother and father are cold and distant from me, it is simply that the Malfoy Manor is cold and distant, plagued with dark memories of my grandfather and his past, whereas the Burrow was full of life and love – but most of all, happiness. And it was infectious. So now I once again my hopes are soaring, for Rose had actually been civil and maybe even pleasant towards me today. And that gave me hope.

It was Christmas evening, before dinner, that it had happened. I'd finally kissed Rose, well she kind of kissed me, and though I somewhat regret it now, at the time I'd felt weightless.

I was laying on my crib in the room that Albus, Hugo (Rose's brother – the only male relative of hers apart from Albus who wasn't still wary of me) and I shared for the week, reading. I heard a soft knock on the door and sat up to respond when Rose cautiously walked in. My heart and nerves went into overdrive. We were in the room – alone. Rose seemed almost as nervous as I felt and this only made me more uneasy.

"Um, hi, Scorpius," my stomach quickly became an acrobat, she'd called me Scorpius again, "Dinner is ready, I came to - um, I was sent to fetch you, seeing how you've been missing in action for the past few hours." She smiled weakly.

Why was she nervous? Why was she avoiding my gaze? Why did she come and get me? Why not Albus? My mind was questioning her every motive, and I'd forgotten how to speak. I realised this and stuttered my response.

"Er, y-yeah. Sorry 'bout that. I was getting away from your family," she looked up at me then, and I knew she'd taken it the wrong way, so I hastened to explain, "N-not that your family is annoying or anything. It's just – I'm not used to such a full house, a-and I just needed to get away, be alone for a bit. Recover from your dad glaring at me and the constant taunting of Freddie, James and Louis – n-not that I can't handle their 'jokes', I don't mind really, I know they're at least half-joking. But w-what I meant was – I just needed some time out for a while."

Merlin my father would have a fit if he saw me, I sounded like a blithering idiot. I was standing awkwardly in front of her now, and I avoided her gaze. I could feel heat creep into my neck and cheeks. Great. Spectacular. Brilliant. Of all the times for my pale skin to betray me, it had to be now. I considered Avada-ing myself when I heard her soft giggle. Wait – Rose giggled? Of course she does, you idiot, just not with you. I couldn't believe my ears. I looked up at her then, my eyebrow arched in question.

"Sorry," she recovered, "it's just - I know what you mean. They're my own family, I should be used to it, but sometimes I feel like that too. They can be pretty hectic. Sorry about James, Freddie and Louis, by the way. And my dad. They're all just stubborn. They'll come 'round eventually. They don't hate you," she smiled, reassuringly then, and it eased my mind to know that they didn't completely despise me.

But I was still extremely surprised by her demeanour. We had never held a civil conversation this long before. It had always been mocking, taunting, insulting. What was going on? Why was she being nice? Hadn't she spent the better half of this year voicing her disdain for me and my father?

Before I could calm my scrambled brain, I blurted, "B-but you hate me! Don't you?"

She didn't respond, at least not with words. She closed the metre gap between us and kissed me. She kissed me. What was going on? I had no idea, so I dispelled my confused thoughts and focussed on her and her only. Her lips were warm and gentle pressed against mine, and she'd placed her palms lightly on my shoulders. In reaction I relaxed my tensed body, slid my right hand into those fiery red curls and my other to the small of her back. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed encouraged by this, as her tongue tentatively slid from her parted lips, gracing my bottom lip. I parted my lips ever so lightly, inviting her in. She took the invitation, and her tongue gently entered my mouth, searching for mine. I ended her search quickly enough, our tongues gently gracing each other, both hesitant and doubtful. But why was she hesitant? I guessed she didn't hate me, then. Her sweet scent filled my nostrils and once again dispelled my thoughts. All I could taste was her – her mouth tasted faintly of chocolate. I couldn't breathe; all I could breathe was her. Everything was Rose.

And then it was over. Didn't they say all good things come to an end? Well, they were right. Before I knew it, Rose pulled back, red-faced, and darted out of the room before I had the chance to question her. Dinner was awkward. Rose and I avoided one another's gazes, quickly averting our eyes if they met. No-one seemed to notice, for they knew we weren't exactly talkative with one another at the best of times.

That night I'd lain awake, missing the feel of her lips on mine, missing her breath of life, missing the taste of that one Heavenly moment. And I didn't want to miss it. I wanted it forever. But that seems unlikely now. Rose has been avoiding me at all costs since our kiss two days ago, and I'm sure she will continue to do so when we get back to Hogwarts, for it is much easier to avoid someone there. Now I was back to square one. She was avoiding me again, ignoring me. And now I missed not only the taste of that moment, but all our moments previous – the fighting, the insults, the taunts, everything. I miss it, and I'm determined more than ever to retrieve it.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's meant to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't comin'

I was right. We've been back at Hogwarts for three weeks now and Rose has been successfully avoiding and ignoring me. She makes sure to sit as far away from me as humanly possible in all classes, when normally she'd been sitting within range to whisper taunts and insults. She never talks to Albus when he's with me, when normally she would just to insult me. She never glances my way with a mocking smirk anymore, and she quickly darts from the room as soon as class finishes – just so I can't catch her. But today, I've had enough. Today is Saturday; the castle is almost empty, as the majority of students have gone to Hogsmeade – but not me, and not her.

I know this because Albus, who after hours of incessant interrogation and pestering, caused me to blurt out my true feelings for Rose and gave me advice. I knew that Rose told him most things, as they were very close, but he told me that she hadn't said anything about our kiss, or what she actually felt for me. Despite this, he insisted that she at least likes me, fancies me even, as Rose is not prone to random acts of romance or passion, and apparently no-one can rile her the way I do. I suppose that much is true, I've never seen her get quite as flustered or frustrated when arguing with someone other than me – not even her cousin Freddie, and thatis saying something. Though, how that is supposed to encourage me or indicate affection, I haven't the foggiest. Nevertheless, he had revealed to me 'inside information', as he put it. He'd told me, that due to the constant requests for her to attend Hogsmeade with a vast number of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw boys, she avoids them by staying at the castle, in the library studying or reading.

So that was where I was currently headed, to the library. I needed to know once and for all whether or not I have succeeded in my attempts to destroy the barriers that protect the true Rose, or whether or not she was simply mocking me and taunting me when she kissed me. I was certain and hopeful that it is the former; I don't believe Rose to be capable of such malicious nature, despite her attempts to appear so.

I found her at the very back of the library, in a corner, her head bent over a book in what seemed to be mild concentration. Her smooth forehead was furrowed deeply, as though contemplating something very complicated and confusing. I coughed to establish my presence. Her head snapped up in surprise, her mouth parted slightly and her eyes wide. It was now or never.

"Rose, why have you been avoiding me at all costs? What have I done?"

She looked confused for a moment, before an incredulous expression graced her features. "What have you done? I'll tell you what you've done!"

I immediately knew that she was barricading herself in again, putting up her anger in defence against what she was really feeling, as only seconds before she was placid. But I was still uncertain, as Rose has always been difficult to read.

She continued her tirade, her voice now angry and strained, "You, Malfoy," so we're back to that, I thought, as she spat my surname and I recoiled as if slapped, "you kissed me! Without warning, without my permission! That is what you have done! And what's more, I'm not the only one who's been elusive, and ignorant, I haven't seen or heard from you in weeks either." She was glaring at me now.

That was it. I exploded; she was accusing meof kissing her, meavoiding her.

" What? Are you fucking kidding me, Rose? You kissed me!" Her eyebrows shot up, her mouth opened and I was sure she was going to protest, so I cut her off before she had the chance, "No! Don't you dare try and deny it! We both know the truth. You kissed me, and then you darted off and proceeded to ignore me for the next three bloody weeks! Why?" I was desperate now; I needed to know, "Why did you do that? Do you despise me that much? Do you really think so little of me to mock me and taunt me with a kiss then ignore me as if I never existed?"

I was panting now, from yelling myself hoarse, and from keeping down the sobs that wanted to break free from my chest. I would not cry. Not in front of her. I would not drop my masquerade, not until hers was gone too.

Rose threw her book down on the table now, but she didn't speak, she simply glared up at me. I needed to say something to make her respond, to make her drop the act.

My chest pained in anticipation as I asked, a little too desperately, "Or is it that for the past few months, since you've noticed I exist, since you've finally stopped ignoring me after six years, that you've fallen in love with me? Is that it? Do you argue with me to hide your feelings from me? Is that it?" Because I do.

Or the moment of truth in your lies

She stood up now, levelling herself with me, still glaring at me. "Yeah Malfoy," she said sarcastically.

"You've hit the nail right on the head with that one. I love you. I have for the past couple of months, since you started taunting me. And I only respond angrily so that I can talk to you. That's it. Yep, I'm hopelessly in love with you."

I didn't know what to think. Was she serious? Her tone was mocking, but there was something in those earthen eyes of hers that made me doubt her tone. Was there truth in it? Was this simply part of her defence? Could it be? I didn't dare voice this, however.

Instead I let my defences fall, I was tired of the facade; someone had to cave first. So instead of throwing back a sarcastic comment of my own, I let my face untwist from its scowl and I gazed at her intently.

"You still haven't told me why, Rose," I sighed in defeat, "I don't even care if it was to mock me, I don't care anymore if you despise me, I've bore it for six and a half years, I'll bear it again. But don't lie to me, don't try and make out that it was me who kissed you, mewho has been avoiding you. Surely you've heard me call out to you after class; surely you've noticed me glancing at you? Tell me the truth. I need to know why."

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

Rose looked incredibly confused now, she looked as though she was searching for the correct thing to say, as if a Professor had just asked a question and she desperately wanted to answer, but wasn't one hundred percent sure if she was right. My shoulders sagged. She wasn't going to let me in. My months of progress were going to crumble before my eyes. It was like a Muggle – what did they call it? – movie, she was going to break my heart once and for all. It was surreal. I'd thought about it, failure and rejection, but never had I truly believed it would happen. I would be helpless like some love struck git in a Muggle movie. But even if that was going to happen, even if she was going to bleed my heart dry, I still needed to know the truth, surely I deserved that much.

After an eternity, just when I thought she wouldn't answer, Rose spoke.

And I don't want the world to see me

She sighed heavily, looking defeated, he anger was gone, and it gave me hope. "I already told you Scorpius."

What? I couldn't believe her. Couldn't she just tell me the truth? I spat at her, "No, you didn't. You mocked me."

Anger flickered across her features once more, her defence was back in place, "Well why don't you tell me something then Scorpius?" she was using my name again, "Why don't you tell me why? Why do you care so fucking much? Why the bloody hell did you start taunting me? Why, for the past six and a half years, have I noticed you constantly fucking staring at me? And why, Scorpius, why the fuck did you kiss me back? Why?"

I couldn't believe she'd just sworn. I'd never heard her use profanities before, but here she was, throwing them about like nothing. It was completely out of character for her, or the Rose I knew, anyway. I guessed that displayed the depth of her anger and exasperation. I, too, was exasperated. I was fed up. She just didn't want me to see her; she didn't want to destroy the fortifications she'd put up to prevent the world from seeing her, Rose Weasley, daughter of war heroes. But I know different, because I've been doing the same thing. I didn't want the world to see me either, only her.

"Do you really not know, Rose? Surely you've figured it out, or do you just want me to say it?"

The anger was gone, replaced now by her sagged shoulders and defeated expression, "I really don't know. So can you please tell me!"

This was it. It was all or nothing. I couldn't take any more of this. My pretence was gone completely. If she didn't feel the same, well I'd have to live with it.

"Because, Rose, I've always been intrigued by you, and I wanted you to see me."

"What? What do you mean?"

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

"I mean, I wanted you to look past your stupid prejudice against me. Merlin, surely if your Uncle Harry can bear to have me around, then you can. But no, for six years, you ignored me, avoided me at all costs because I'm aMalfoy, a former Death Eater's son and grandson, a pure-blood git who cares only for wealth and blood-status – fucking hell, Rose, you support the world's most stupid beliefs about me, but they don't understand, I don't think they'll ever understand."

She was staring at me, her mouth agape, still not speaking. I spoke again, devoid of anger, completely desperate and defeated, my eyes pleading for her to understand, "I just thought you – Couldn't you see past my mask of arrogance? Did you really think that your cousin would be friends with me if I was truly that self-centred? I just thought –"

She interrupted, incredulous once more, "But, but you kept on acting that way! Then you started all those fights with me this year! You teased and taunted me, you insulted my family!"

I was frustrated now, she was keeping up with the narrow-minded beliefs that people who loathed my family enforced. She just didn't understand. Why couldn't she understand?

"That was the only way you'd notice me! Don't you get it?" my fists were clenching at my sides now, and it took all my willpower not to cry, "You wouldn't talk to me at all unless I teased you! The past six years prove that. So that's why I teased you, insulted you, I knew I'd get a rise from you, I knew you would just have to retort, jump at the chance to insult my arrogance, my family. That's why! You wouldn't give me the time of day otherwise."

Her face remained a mask of disbelief, "But why?"

"I bloody well just told you why!" I practically screamed at her.

"I know, but I mean, why did you want me to talk to you? Why do you care?"

I wanted so badly to shake her and kiss her at the same time; I wasn't sure which urge was stronger.

When everything's meant to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

"Are you that daft? Isn't it obvious?" She looked murderous so I hastened to blurt, "I love you, you idiot! That's why you've caught me glancing at you for the past six years! That's why, this year, I was fed up with your stupid preconception of me and decided to get you to notice me. And I know, I know, I didn't really go the right way about it, but you wouldn't talk to me otherwise!

So I thought, if I could get you talking to me, even if we were arguing, if I could do that, then I could be nice to you afterwards. After you weren't ignoring me, and then I could show you that I'm not who you think I am. And it seemed to be working.

Our arguments became half-hearted, playful even, I think. And then you kissed me at the Burrow, and I thought, at last, you can see me! But then you ran off and if ignored me for a month! Everything was broken, my hopes of you opening your eyes, my hopes of you accepting me. You broke me," my voice cracked and I felt a tear leak from my eye. She could not see me cry.

I finished as though I wasn't a blubbering idiot, desperate more than ever now, "So tell me, why did you do it Rose? Why? I think you owe me that much."

My chest heaved now, from yelling out my blurted response and from the sobs that wracked my body. Rose's face was a mask of shock. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was opening and closing like a fish. And I hoped with all my being that she understood, and that she felt the same. I'm not sure if I could take it if this weren't the case.

I looked closely at her face, into her eyes, and I saw that they were glistening. She was crying? If there was one thing I was certain of about her, it was that she rarely allowed a tear to escape her eyes, and from what I'd heard, if she did, it wasn't in front of people. But now she was crying, in front of me. Maybe it was because I, too, was crying?

She took in a sharp breath before saying quietly, "Because I was scared, and I still am."

"What?" it came out as a croak.

She returned my intent gaze now, a tear cascading down her cheek, though her voice remained steady, "I'm scared because you get to me, you get underneath my skin more than anyone else can. And I do see you. I first glimpsed you at the Halloween ball, you remember?" I nodded for her to continue, enthralled by the revelation and afraid that I'd sound like a strangled chicken if I dared to speak.

"Well, after that, like you said, we were almost playful in our arguments, and I wasn't sure, I've never been so unsure in my life. But I started to realise that I was developing feelings for you. And they wouldn't go away. Every time I entered the Great Hall, I'd look over to the Slytherin table, just to see if you were there."

I could tell her composure was broken now, for she grabbed hold of my shirt, and shook me as she said in a frail voice, " And when I'd come into the library, I'd look for your stupid pale hair and stupid stormy eyes. And in class, I'd make sure I was near where you were seated, just so I could make snide remarks, just so I could be near you." She pulled at my shirt, speaking to my chest as I looked down at her red locks in awe.

"And it scared the hell out of me that I did all this. Because you were right," she shook me weakly now and sobbed.

"I'd built you up in my head to be this pompous git; I detested you on principle because a vast majority of people did. And I ignored Albus because I thought he was just sympathetic like his father. But then you changed. And so did I. Then I realised, by Christmas, that I definitely had feelings for you. That's why I kissed you."

She moved back now, and leaned against the table for support, finally meeting my disbelieving eyes with her own tired orbs. She seemed to be exhausted by her revelation. I couldn't believe it. She actually had feelings for me!

I'd regained my composure enough to ask what was gnawing on my mind, "Then why did you ignore me? Surely by then you'd gathered that I at least fancied you, what with my staring, and my kissing you back."

Her face reddened and she fixed her gaze on the floor.

"Because, Scorpius, I told you, I'm afraid. Before, I was afraid of what my dad would say; I still clung to my prejudice. I was afraid that maybe you just wanted to see if you could win me over, like it was a challenge or something. I was afraid that I'd just made it all up in my head that you weren't being playful in our arguments, that you actually meant what you said."

I moved toward her, took her chin between my thumb and forefinger and gently pulled her face up so her gaze once again met mine, "And why are you afraid now?"

She looked at me sadly, "I'm afraid now, after you told me all that – I'm afraid that I won't live up to your expectations, that you won't like me once you get to know me properly. Because really, I don't know, but I – I think I might love you," she rushed out the rest of her words when she saw my eyebrows shoot up, "I'm not sure – but I don't know you. I know snippets of you. But you know me, and I'm afraid that once we spend more time together, once I've fallen completely in love with you, I'm afraid you might take it back. That you might decide you're not intrigued by me anymore, that you won't let me in."

I laughed and she looked hurt, so I spoke in a soft voice, trying to reassure her, "I wouldn't do that, Rose. I'd never do that. I'll love you even more when I get to know you. And I've been afraid too. But now that I know how you feel, now that you've finally let me in, I'm not ever letting you go. And you will always intrigue me, Rose. And I will let you in."

She gazed at me with a watery smile now. "But why do you love me? Why, after all this time are you letting me in? Why do you let everyone think you're a pompous prat?"

I smiled at her, and bent down to softly brush my lips against hers before whispering above her lips, "Don't you get it, Rose? The reason I love you, the reason you intrigue me so much, the reason I will let you in, is because all I want, all I've ever wanted is –"

Her gasp cut me off, "What?"

I smiled against her lips, "I just want you to know who I am. That's all I've ever wanted, is for you to love me, and for you to see me for who I am not what I am. I don't care what everyone else thinks, if their minds are made up, they'll never accept it anyway, I don't think they'd understand. But you, I know that you could if you'd just open your eyes. That's why, Rose, I just wanted you to know me."

Then I kissed her, and it was sweet and gentle and everything I'd ever wanted. She pulled back, "Me too Scorpius, me too. And I don't know if I can say it right now, I don't know if I'm in love with you yet, but I'll get to know you, if you let me in, I'll get to know who you are." She smirked now, "Because now, now you're the one that intrigues me."

I laughed at her and kissed her again. I didn't know if she would grow to love me, I didn't know if she would even like the true me. I didn't know if she would like my family, if they would accept her. I didn't know if we would last, I didn't know if her father would kill me when he found out. All I knew was, right then, in that moment, I loved Rose Weasley and she was worth the effort, the pain and suffering; she was still a mystery and always would be. And I knew that finally, even though she was supposed to have broken my heart, all my dreams, I knew that finally, I could let her in. Finally, she would know who I am.

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am

A/N

- Pleeease review! I need to know whether or not this is any good. Thanks a bunch for reading it (if you did, that is)! :D