It is clear to anyone that Rose Weasley is one of those rare induviduals who has discovered her purpose in the world early on in life. She walks down the halls of Hogwarts, claiming the greatest seats in the Ravenclaw Common Room, doing and saying whatever she pleases and what seems that it will make her happiest as if she owns it all. Because, of course, she does.

And why shouldn't she? She has the majority of her family on Chocolate Frog cards tacked up on the wall, not to mention the perfect Ravenclaw grades, strong cousins to protect her if anyone can manage to get past her spot on hexes.

Unfortunately for me, Rose obviously believes that her purpose in life is to hurt my feelings.

It must be stated that Rose Weasley is manipulative, and a great actress. She is the favourite of every teacher, so in the rare occasion that she is caught doing something she has the ability to burst into tears and claim the most reasonable excuse for whatever she has been caught doing. Rose could run into class fifteen minutes late, dripping with blood and have left a trail of wounded babies behind her, and as long as she can blink her watery blue eyes at the professor, she will come out of trouble with a pat on the back. Sometimes it seems that I am the only one who can see this.

So then how is it that I always managed to find myself in these situations?

It was the final class of the day, near the end of the year. It had been a humid, lazy day and the weather had taken effect on the teachers and students, so it came as a bit of a shock when class came to a sudden end. I found that the class had cleared out rather quickly and Rose and I were the only ones left in the room. She seemed to have dropped her bag and was gathering its contents from the ground.

Now, I know what you're thinking. What is he doing? Didn't he say she, like, hates him or something? So, yes. It would have been very wise to just pick up my bag and go. I could have had a nice afternoon with my friends, read a book, and maybe dipped my pale feet in the cool lake and avoided my friends' splashing. But I had a better idea.

Rose thought that everything she did had to come around and, much like she had done with her pony tail when we were eleven, hit me in the face. However, I was also in Ravenclaw. It doesn't take much to know that someone will not do so much to harm one person without being offended first. I decided that, in that moment of that hot afternoon, I, Scorpius Malfoy, would prove to Rose that I was not the prat that she thought I was. She would see that I was kind and thoughtful, if not slightly awkward, and the mistakes of my family's past defined my personality in that I was brought up not to judge people.

I walked across the room and knelt down next to her, gathering some loose parchment. I looked down- she was still much smaller than me even when we were both on the ground- and smiled at her, showing what I hoped was friendliness through my bangs.

"Can I... help you, Scorpius?" She cocked one eyebrow, a skill I cannot master, and stopped fixing her bag, staring at me.

"Well, actually, I was going to help you?" I tended to make statements into questions around Rose. I handed her some papers and felt my face break into a nervous smile, with my eyebrows slightly scrunched together and my lips pulled back tightly so my teeth were showing. She gave a small laugh.

"Alright, then." She put everything in her bag and I realized that there wasn't really much for me to help with. It was generally awkward. She looked up at me through her ginger eyelashes.

It must be stated that Rose Weasley is manipulative, a great actress, and beautiful. And in true Rose spirit, she knows it.

Rose has the ability to make First and Second Years simply stop talking as she walks by. I've seen it happen. There they were, walking quite slowly in front of me. And Rose darted through the hallways. She walks quicker than anyone I've seen before, quite a feat for someone with such small legs, which she always displays with skirts that seem to be shorter than most. As if in slow motion, she turned her head and pulled a peice of curly dark red hair behind her ear and giggled as it sprung back to her face. Just before the beginning of Fifth Year, she cut her hair to her chin and has kept it at that length ever since. While she did her play-with-hair-giggle-bat-eyes-at-poor-twelve-year-old-boys routine, the effect on the boys was very noticable as one of them tripped over the other's robes, pulling them both to the ground.

And now Rose was doing this to me. Even though I knew that Rose's soul was composed of the crushed hopes and dreams of teenage boys, I was not immune to her. I was after all her favourite source of crushed hopes and dreams. I sat there, sputtering like an idiot, and desperately trying to remember anything other than how pretty she was, when she spoke.

"Well, I suppose I should be going now," I felt my cheeks burn. How stupid was I? Say something to her! "James and Albus usually meet me right outsidethe classroom."

"Oh, errr, yeah..." She cocked her eyebrow again.

I stood up quickly and offered my hand to her. She looked at it, then stood up on her own, using only her legs, something I also couldn't do.

"Well, thank you for the help, Scorpius." I couldn't believe my luck. I thought I had done a terrible job helping her and proving that I wasn't a prat. Apparently I wasn't as awkward as I thoght. My new found confidence showed in my voice.

"No problem at all."

She surprised me by trying to kiss me on the cheek in thanks, but being the genious I am, I stepped backwards. You don't have any othe response to Rose Weasley coming towards your face if you've been her plaything for six years.

My foot pressed down on a bottle of ink that we had missed, sending me toppling over onto Rose. I froze as I realized I had pinned her to the ground. I looked into her eyes and she gasped softly, shifting her view quickly from one grey eye to the next.

"Scorpius, I can't pretend anymore!" She shocked me and I had no response but to remain staring at her. "I- I love you. I always have, I can't imagine you possibly feel the same way after how I've treated you all these years. I'm so sorry. I only wanted to make sure I was on your mind as much as you were on mine."

This wasn't possible. What was going on? My brain couldn't work, I could feel my mind scrambling around trying to string two words together. I wanted to say that I loved her, too, that I could never love someone who wasn't able to show affection through affection, that I was confused and didn't know what to think.

"Oh, Rose..."

"I hoped you would feel the same!" Before I could respond and clarify that I wasn't completely sure what I had meant, her freckled fingers wrapped around my tie and pulled our heads together. She lead of course, applying pressure to my lips with her own, then shoving her tongue into my mouth. My hormones responded quicker than my logic and I responded to the kiss, still letting her lead.

Rose parted us when we heard footsteps and male laughter. Her eyes darted from the door to my eyes and she cracked a small smile. I felt my stomach drop.

"Wouldn't it be strange if I were like that?" She said in a whisper, only for me to hear. I froze with fear, still on top of her. "GET OFF OF ME YOU, PERVERT!"

James and Albus ran in at Rose's scream and analyzed the scene deciding that I was indeed the unlikely villain harassing their baby cousin.

I woke up in the hospital wing a few days later, with a throbbing headache. I would later remember the two boys magically swelling my head to twice it's normal size. I groaned and turned onto my side, seeing a note on the bedside table.

hope all is well! be seeing you around soon- rose

Of course Rose had enough control that she could manipulate the rules of grammar in her own mind.

It must be stated that Rose Weasley is manipulative, a great actress, beautiful, and completely insane.

And unfortunately for me, she has stolen my heart. And she knows it.