when snowflakes fall like tears;
because sometimes
just sometimes,
it's written in the stars.
-x-
The first time you notice her, really really notice her, she's sitting on the balcony of the Astronomy tower, her back leaning against a pillar and her feet dangling off the edge, wearing her pajamas and wrapped in an oversized sweater.
And she looks so ethereally pretty with her brownredgolden hair blowing in the wind and her caramelchocolate eyes alight and dancing and her luminescentivory skin shining in the moonlight that your heart makes a sudden lurch and you wonder why you didn't notice her before, how you couldn't have noticed her before. You take unconscious steps out of the doorway, your body moving of its own accord, your eyes glued onto her back.
As you peel out of the darkness of the doorway and onto the balcony, she calls out a soft,
"What are you doing here?"
And you decide her voice sounds like thousands of birds singing all at once. And you don't reply, really, because you're speechless and enamored and Scorpius Fucking Malfoy, Gryffindor Golden Boy, and you're starring at Rose Fucking Weasley, Slytherin cousin of the Potter Trio, and somehow words can't really convey anything right now.
So you turn on your heel and run.
-x-
and i remember when you lost your head
sometimes I wonder how you stay so sad
when you're so beautiful
-x-
The next day you find yourself starring at her like you've never seen her before (and you haven't, not really, not ever).
You've never noticed the little things she does, like the way she hums softly when replanting plants.
The way she tucks her hair behind her ear in a nervous manner as she leans over her Potions Cauldron.
The way she raises her hand in a nonchalant fashion, answering questions with perfect clarity and precision, her voice ringing out over the classroom.
The way she brushes her quill against her cheek when she's thinking really hard, trying to find the answer to the Homework question.
The way she daintily cuts through her meal, and sips on her Pumpkin juice without a care in the world.
But, most notably, you've never noticed the way she sits alone at the very end of the Slytherin table, a good two or three meters from the group of first years that shoot her wary glances once in a while.
Lilly hits your arm and drags your attention back to your table, and she shoots you an annoyed look as she asks, her voice shrilly, if you've been listening at all to what she had to say about Lysander's new hair cut.
-x-
white lips, pale face
breathing in snowflakes
burnt lungs, sour taste
-x-
You don't know how, or why, but somehow you find yourself back at the Astronomy tower come midnight.
"I didn't think you'd come back," she says, and she's lying down on the cool rock of the tower, a foot draped over the edge, her arms cradling her head, and you can't help but feel as though you're seeing an angel for the very first time, she's so beautiful.
You open your mouth to reply, but the air gets stuck in the back of your throat and you freeze, your thoughts incoherent as you stare.
"Wasn't very courageous of you, either, running away like you did last night," she continues, her eyes closed, immune to your predicament. "Bloody Gryffindors."
"I wasn't running away," you finally sputter, and your voice carries an indignant tone as you narrow your eyes.
She merely laughs. "Whatever you say. Lie down, why don't you? The stars are particularly bright tonight."
And so begins your friendship.
-x-
we are young and we have years ahead, maybe
we might fall in love, or fall apart, fall apart
before it ends, well we should try to start
-x-
It's the first Friday in December when things start to get a little muddled and the lines blur.
It's the first night in two months where you aren't stealing away to the Astronomy tower, and it is all, completely, and utterly, Lily's fault.
"Come on, Scorpius. It's not just a party. It's The Party of the year! All the Gryffindors are going to be there, and you can't not show up unless you want to sign your public image's death wish. You're coming, you have to."
James and Albus nod, and Albus claps you on the back, his voice booming over the common room:
"Come on, Scorp, it'll be fun! We'll dance, we'll get sloshed, we'll meet some pretty girls...Who knows, you might even score a couple bases!"
And so you get pulled in with Lily's shrill demands and Albus' promise of a fun time, but you can't help but try to meet those caramel eyes at the Slytherin table that night at dinner.
You fail.
-x-
and in the morning I'll be with you,
but it will be a different kind
cuz i'll be holding all the tickets, and you'll be owning all the fines
-x-
You don't exactly remember when, or how, but you're vision is blurred and there are noises everywhere and you are drunk off your feet. You're surrounded by bodies and heat and music and you don't, you can't, remember the names of any of the people you've danced with, or kissed.
You stagger through the party, your lips swollen from impromptu snog sessions, and somehow Lily's arm finds you and you're dancing together, hips grinding with hips, arms encircling your waist, lips crashing on lips.
She whispers in your ear, and in some way you can't quite recall, you find yourself in a broom closet, clothes flying, hands frantically grasping, a tangle of limbs.
Yet as she cries out your name, you can't help but imagine a softer voice, and as your hands wind themselves in your hair, you can't help but feel soft curls instead of the thin, straight strands, and as you look at her face as it twits in pure ecstasy, you can't help but picture chocolate eyes instead of green ones.
It's this vision that brings you to release.
-x-
can't start a fire, can't start a fire
without a spark
this gun's for hire, even if we're just dancing in the dark
-x-
You wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, but surprisingly, you can remember the details of last night (well, the important ones). But the most vivid image is the one with Rose - and you know it's not real, it can't be real, but you can't help these emotions that are running through your mind and the beating of your heart.
You close your eyes and picture Rose - her hair, her eyes, her body, her smile - and you groan softly as you realize that maybe, just maybe, you might be falling in love with Rose Weasley and that this might not be such a bad thing.
Reality comes crashing down when you hear Lily's voice in your ear as she wakes up.
-x-
and how my love, it spins me 'round
and how my love, it's let me down.
-x-
You studiously avoid Lily for the following month.
James has stopped speaking to you (no doubt encouraged by his persuasive little sister), and Albus shoots him looks of concern when he thinks Scorpius isn't looking. He pesters him with questions, his voice full of naive concern:
"Mate, what has gotten into you? Since, like October, you've been acting differently, but I was sure it was just the jitters of seventh year or something - but now - my God, Scorp, you're acting like a anti-social freak! You're not going to any parties, you barely speak to me and Lily and James and you stare off into space with a look that screamsindifference! And now, when we finally get you to go to a party, you go and act all weird and shit and now James and Lily won't speak with you and I don't even know why I bother, sometimes!"
You tune him out to, and eventually Albus falls back behind Lily and James and they resort to steely looks and an occasional sneer in your direction. Soon enough the entire table refuses to sit with you.
You can't bring yourself to care.
-x-
so maybe you're lovable
and maybe you're my snowflake
and when your eyes turn from green to grey in the winter
I will hold you in a cold place
-x-
"Rose," you venture one night, your question floating in the cool december night. She nods, her eyes closed, her hands wrapped around her knees as she breathes out small clouds of warmth.
"Why don't speak with your cousins?"
Her eyes flutter open, and for a rare moment you can see confusion and shock and emotion fly across her face before she composes herself.
"I'm a Slytherin, Scorpius," she replies, as if it was the most rational explanation in the world.
You flinch when you hear the bitterness in her voice.
"But that shouldn't matter...You're family." You scoot closer to her, shifting your weight so you're facing her.
She shrugs, hugging her knees closer to her body.
"Rose," you say, and your voice is soft and warm as you tilt her face up to the light, and force her to look into your eyes. "Rose. That doesn't make any sense."
She blinks, and you can almost see the tears forming in her eyes.
"My family holds a grudge against Slytherins. They've always hated them, and as far as they know, Slytherins have always hated the Weasleys. I'm the first Weasley ever to have been sorted into any other house than Gryffindor. And on top of that, it was Slytherin. My uncle Harry didn't mind, but the rest of my family did. Especially my aunt Ginny and my dad. Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny had a huge fight over it, and since then the cousins have avoided me like the plague. They blame me for their parents' divorce, even though that was years later and had absolutely nothing to do with me. My mum and dad avoid the topic all together. Seem to think that if they don't talk about it, it doesn't exist."
You breathe in, the air getting stuck in your lungs. How could they possibly not see how positively good and kind and perfect Rose was?
"What about Hugo? What about your brother?"
She shrugs.
"He doesn't talk to me and I don't talk to him. 'Least, not at school. At home, we do, for mum and dad's sake. But he pretty much pretends I don't exist. It's just...fustrating, how such a stupid thing can make me seem unimportant and worthless in the eyes of my family."
Her tears spill out for real this time, cascading down her cheeks, and you pull her in flush against your body. You can't really think of anything to say, but you softly caress the back of her back, your fingers dancing against her sweater as you comfort her.
You can't say how long you've sat here, but you do notice that Rose's tears have stopped and that snowflakes have begun to fall.
You don't let her go.
-x-
Nobody said this was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
No one said it would be this hard
-x-
"There it is," you point, your finger lingering on a constellations of stars above. "Scorpius."
Rose sighs contentedly as she rests her head against your chest. Her fingers are twined in yours and the position is almost so intimate, you close your eyes and pretend (just for a second) that she loves you and you love her and things are simple and easy.
"I've always wanted to be named after the stars," she says after a while, her voice barely a whisper. "They're constant, even when everything else is changing. Roses - they flower for a short period of time, then they wilt and die. Stars are constant."
"Until they explode, that is," you answer cheekily, chuckling as she swats you on the elbow. "Hey, Rose?"
"Mmhh," she answers, her eyes still glued on the sparkling lights above her. The moonlight is gleaming in her eyes, her hair, and she looks so ethereal you have to catch your breath. You wonder, idly, when you'll get over her beauty, but find that you're quite content in basking in it for the remainder of your life. If she'll let you, of course.
"Are you going home for Christmas?"
"Never."
"Good. I'm staying too."
-x-
she doesn't own a dress
her hair is always a mess
you can catch her stealing, she won't confess,
I think she's beautiful
-x-
have you ever had a butterbeer/butterbeer latte?
(also: any good Scorpius fics with angst? I'm in the mood and I can't find any right now...)
part 1/2