You can dance, every dance with the guy
Who gives you the eye, let him hold you tight
Scorpius Malfoy lounged lazily up against the wall of the ballroom, glass of champagne in hand. It was the annual Ministry of Magic Christmas Ball. Once a year, all the Ministry employees were expected to put on their best dress robes and spend the evening in a crowded room, dancing and drinking and sucking up to their superiors in a hope to obtain a promotion or a year-end bonus. To him, the whole thing seemed like a dreadful waste of time. After all, Scorpius knew that he was a shoe-in for that promotion he had his eye on. Rose Weasley didn't stand a chance in hell. He had been the one who had spent all those late evenings at the office, working side by side with Mr. Kettletoft—the head of the International Magical Trading Standards Body—to update the cauldron trading laws. He had been the one who convinced the representative from the Chinese Ministry to sign the International Agreement on the Regulation of the Transport and Trade of Magical Creatures. He had been the one whose report on the broomstick legislation had been praised by the Minister of Magic himself. Yes, he was most definitely getting that promotion.
In fact he wouldn't have showed up at all if it wasn't for her. He wasn't sure why, but there was just something about her. Something that made him want to be near her. Something that made him forget that other girls existed.
Of course, she didn't know any of that. She didn't know how he really felt. So he simply watched her. Watched as glided across the dance floor in the arms of another man. He sighed, downing his drink and grabbing another of the tray of a passing waiter.
You can smile, every smile for the man
Who held your hand beneath pale moon light.
RoseWeasley smiled up at Carson Pembroke as he slipped his hand into hers. The two of them were standing outside on the balcony, side by side. She could hear the music from inside, drifting out through the double doors, soft and sweet—the perfect background noise for a romantic evening.
"Look," he murmured, pointing toward the sky. "It's a full moon."
She glanced up at the dark night sky. The moon was low in the sky, bathing the balcony in light. "It's beautiful," she replied, shivering slightly.
"It's quite cold out here," Carson said. "Would you like to go back inside? Maybe dance a bit more?"
She nodded. "That sounds nice."
He didn't let go of her hand as he led her inside.
But don't forget who's takin' you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin' save the last dance for me
"Hello, Weasley."
Rose stopped walking. She'd know that voice anywhere. That familiar drawl that belonged to none other than the arrogant blonde prick known as Scorpius Malfoy.
She turned, tossing her red hair over her shoulder and taking in the man before her. Ridiculously tall. Ridiculously handsome. Ridiculously infuriating. "Hello, Malfoy," she said with a sigh. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Well gee, Weasley. Where else would I want to be on a Friday night except here?" he replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
"Yes," she said. "It must be difficult for you, missing out on a night of drunken sex with your skank of the week."
His smirk grew wider. "Aw, you've got me all wrong, Weasley. I keep them around for at least two weeks."
She grabbed the ladle from the punch bowl and began to fill her cup. "Listen, Malfoy. It's been lovely chatting with you, as always. But I've got to go."
"Have to get back to Carson Pembroke, do you?"
"Yes," she said, "as a matter of fact, I do."
"He's a tool," Scorpius replied matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, well, it takes one to know one," she replied, turning to leave.
He grabbed her shoulder. "Weasley, wait."
She spun back around. "What now, Malfoy?"
"I was simply wondering if you're ready to hear which one of us is getting that promotion on Monday?" he asked. "Or should I say, are you ready to find out that you're not getting that promotion on Monday?"
She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Malfoy. I'm getting that promotion and you know it. I've worked my arse off for five years and I'm finally going to get rewarded for it."
"And you think I haven't?" he asked, suddenly looking angry.
"Listen, Malfoy, I don't want to argue with you right now. There is a man waiting for me over there. A handsome, smart, kind man. And, shockingly enough, I'd rather spend my time with him."
Scorpius's expression changed from angry to amused. "You don't like spending time with me, Weasley?"
"No, Malfoy. Never."
"Well, that's interesting," he murmured. "Because I can think of several instances when you've seemed like you were enjoying my company."
"Everyone makes mistakes!" she snapped.
"You seem to make the same mistake quite often, Weasley."
"Not that often," she muttered.
"Often enough," he replied softly.
Oh, I know that the music's fine
Like sparklin' wine, go and have your fun
"Rose?" A male voice interrupted Scorpius's thoughts.
He glanced up. Carson Pembroke must have finally noticed that Rose was taking a bit longer than usual to get some punch and decided to come and fetch her.
Rose smiled at him. "Sorry, Carson," she said. "I ran into Scorpius and the two of us were chatting about work."
Carson smiled half-heartedly at Scorpius. "Hello, mate," he said, sticking out his hand. "Good to see you again."
Scorpius shook it, his grip perhaps a bit tighter than necessary. "So you and Rose," he remarked. "How long has that been going on?" He attempted to sound casual, like he was simply making friendly conversation and not prying for details.
"Oh," said Carson, looking surprised. "Well, actually we kind of just hit it off tonight."
Scorpius nodded, secretly pleased. "I see. How interesting."
Rose crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He smiled at her sweetly. "Is something the matter?"
"Not at all," she replied. "Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to go dance some more. I'll see you on Monday, Malfoy."
Laugh and sing but while we're apart
Don't give your heart to anyone
"Have fun," he called after their retreating figures, trying to ignore the feeling of jealousy that was boiling inside of him. Why did she have to be so beautiful, so smart, so clever? How did she manage to be so infuriating and yet so desirable at the same time.
He watched as she laughed at something Carson said. He could watch her forever, memorizing every detail. Her blue eyes that sparkled as she lightly touched Carson's arm. Her black dress that hugged every curve and the sapphire necklace that rested between her breasts.
She turned and their eyes met for only a moment. He winked and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth for an instant. He grinned triumphantly and she rolled her eyes, turning away.
And don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin' save the last dance for me
Rose hated that her gaze kept drifting over to Scorpius. It was ridiculous. Carson Pembroke was right there in front of her, holding her in his arms, leading her around the dance floor He was just as handsome as Scorpius—well, nearly as handsome. He was just as smart as Scorpius—well, practically as smart. And he was most certainly less infuriating—though he did have an annoying habit of talking only about himself. She wasn't sure if she could listen to one more of the many achievements of Carson Pembroke without screaming.
So for the millionth time that night, she glanced back over at Scorpius. He was still leaning up against that wall, staring right back at her. Ugh, why did he have to do that? Why did his gaze have to be so piercing? Why did he have to look at her like he could see straight through her, straight into her soul, straight past all the walls she put up?
She turned back to Carson, nodding at whatever it was he just said. He seemed to take this as confirmation that she wanted him to continue.
"Of course," he was saying. "I can't take all the credit."
Oh really? she thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
"But I think it's fair me to take most of it," he added, chuckling as if he'd just made the world's funniest joke.
She smiled tightly, her gaze drifting back to Scorpius. This time, she was displeased to notice, he wasn't alone. While she had been distracted, he had been joined by Perpetua Perks. Everyone knew that there was a history between those two. A history that dated back to their Hogwarts days, when they both had gotten a month of detention after they had gotten caught shagging on top of the Astronomy Tower. Perpetua was blonde and buxom and never seemed to mind that Scorpius's interest in her was sporadic at best and purely physical.
Rose quickly turned away, redirecting her attention to Carson.
Baby, don't you know I love you so?
Can't you feel it when we touch?
"Hey, Scorpius," Perpetua Perks cooed, nestling herself in close to him.
He took a step back, pushing her away from him. "I'm not in the mood right now, Perpetua."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why?" she asked. "Because of Rose Weasley?" Her tone was taunting. She knew exactly how he felt about the red-haired girl who'd stolen his heart. A lot of people made the mistake of dismissing Perpetua Perks as dumb and ditzy. But Scorpius knew better. She was very perceptive, very clever, and very manipulative.
"Shut up," he muttered.
"She's not interested in you, Scorp. She'll never be interested in you. Don't you see that?"
"That's not true!" he snapped, growing more and more frustrated.
"Why?" she asked. "Because you're Scorpius Malfoy? Because there's no way that there could be a girl in existence who you can't have?" She laughed. "Because you might want to take that ego of yours down a few notches, Scorp. You'll never have her."
She was wrong. Scorpius had already had her. He'd had her many times. Nobody knew, nobody even suspected. But it was true. Whenever Rose Weasley was sad or lonely or just too drunk, he was the one she always came to. He was the one she let comfort her. Of course, she had no idea how he really felt. He knew that she just thought it was a purely physical arrangement, sex between two people who normally couldn't stand each other.
I will never, never let you go
I love you, oh, so much
He knew that all he had to do was tell her the truth. All he had to do was admit his feelings. But he was scared. What if she rejected him? What if she didn't feel the same way?
"Come on, Scorp," Perpetua said, interrupting his thoughts. "Forget about her. Come have fun with me."
He considered it, if only for a brief instant. But then he shook his head. "Thanks for the offer," he replied. "But I can't forget about her, Perpetua. I love her."
"You're a fool," she whispered. "You're going to end up with a broken heart and nothing else. You know that, right?"
"Bye, Perpetua," he said, ignoring her question.
She shook her head and turned to leave. He watched as she disappeared into the crowd, wondering if she was right.
You can dance, go and carry on
Till the night is gone and it's time to go
Rose didn't look back at Scorpius after that. She was afraid of what she might see. So she focused all her attention on Carson, letting him spin her around and whisper sweet things in her ear. She tried to push all thoughts of that arrogant blonde prick out her mind. She didn't want to think about him anymore.
Why was that so much harder to do than it sounded?
Why did her mind always return to him?
If he asks if you're all alone
Can he walk you home, you must tell him no.
The night had drawn to a close. The band had stopped playing. The dance floor was empty. Everyone was gathering their things and drifting toward the door.
"Can I walk you home?" Carson asked, smiling down at her. She could see it in his eyes, he expected her to say yes. And why wouldn't she? She'd been an attentive date all evening. She laughed at all his jokes and danced with only him.
But she surprised him by shaking her head. "No, thank you," she said politely. "I can just Apparate home."
"Oh," he said. "Well, okay then. Er, perhaps I'll see you later?"
"Perhaps," she replied vaguely.
She had no real intention of ever going out with him again. He was nice enough, but much too dull and much too unaware of his own dullness. She couldn't bear to listen to another story about how he had impressed the Minister of Magic with his knowledge of the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 or his report on relations with the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic.
He had been a nice distraction for the evening, but nothing more.
Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
Save the last dance for me
He was tired of waiting, of wondering. He was going to tell her how he felt. He could see her there, standing all alone near the door. It was the perfect time to reveal his true feelings.
"Hey, Weasley," he whispered, sneaking up behind her.
She gave a little jump and turned around, startled. "Malfoy, you scared me," she said. "Don't sneak up on me like that."
"Where's Pembroke?" he asked, praying that she didn't respond that he was in the loo or fetching their coats.
"He went home," she replied. "Where's Perpetua?"
He shrugged. "Don't know. Don't care."
Maybe it was just imagination, but she looked pretty pleased to hear that.
"You look beautiful tonight," he told her.
"Thank you," she replied, smiling shyly.
"That sapphire necklace really brings out your eyes," he remarked casually.
Her smile grew wider. "Yes, whoever got it for me must have bought it for that very reason."
"You're right," he said. "That's exactly why I bought it."
"Though I still don't know why you bought me such an expensive gift," she replied, her expression serious again. "I shouldn't have accepted it."
"I bought it because I want you to have everything," he said simply.
She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes.
"Except for that promotion," he added, smirking at her. "That belongs to me."
She rolled her eyes. "Sure, Malfoy. Whatever you say."
They both fell silent for a moment. He didn't take his eyes off her and she didn't look away from him. He wondered what she was thinking about. Did she feel awkward? Did she want him to leave? Did she think he was as handsome as he thought she was beautiful?
"Do you want to dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand, effectively breaking the silence.
She hesitated, and for one brief moment his heart stopped, but then she smiled and took his hand. "There's no music, Malfoy," she whispered.
"So what?" he replied, whisking her out onto the dance floor. "Listen to the music in your head, Rosie."
Oh, I know the music's fine
Like sparklin' wine, go and have your fun
Rose loved when Scorpius called her Rosie. Most of the time she was just Weasley, but during times like this, when it was just the two of them and all the usual animosity between them was gone, he'd say her name so softly, so gently. Rosie. And his usual smirk would disappear, replaced with a genuine smile that lit up his eyes. This was the Scorpius she always wanted around. This was the Scorpius she loved.
They glided across the floor. He hummed softly in her ear, keeping them steady and on beat. They probably looked ridiculous to anybody who happened to be passing by, but she didn't care.
Laugh and sing but while we're apart
Don't give your heart to anyone
"So things didn't work out with Pembroke, huh?" Scorpius asked.
She shook her head. "You were right. He's kind of a tool."
Scorpius grinned. "Told you," he said smugly.
"Besides," she added. "My heart belongs to someone else."
He bit his lip, suddenly looking nervous. "Oh yeah?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Well," he said, considering this. "You should know, Rosie, that my heart belongs to someone as well."
"Does she know how you feel about her?"
"She should," he replied. "Because I bought her a necklace that matched her eyes. And I comfort her when she cries. And I dance with her when there's no music."
So don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So, darlin' save the last dance for me
Rose wasted no time. She immediately leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. He responded eagerly, kissing her back with all the love and affection he'd never been able to say out loud. The world tilted on its axis. And then it stopped moving completely. They'd kissed countless times before, but it had never been like this. This was the first time that they both knew how the other felt. This time there was no pretending, no hidden feelings. They were simply a boy and a girl who loved each other.
After what felt like hours, Scorpius pulled away.
"Merry Christmas, Rosie," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead.
"Merry Christmas, Scorpius," she replied, smiling contentedly.
This story idea just randomly popped into my head a few days ago when I was listening to this song, so I decided to write it.