Scorpius watched Rose as she worked, amused. "You do realize that broomstick wax is for broomsticks, correct?"

"Yes," Rose said evenly, rubbing down the shining wood of her Beater's club, "but a good club is all a Beater has, after all. Do you want me to defend Al with a moldy stick, or a well-cared for instrument of Bludger bludgeoning?"

"Oh, you worry too much," Scorpius waved his hand airily. "Al's quick; he can dodge just fine."

"Remember that game in second year? Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff?" Rose put away the wax and brought out a vial of oil. Scorpius nodded. "I wasn't quick enough, he took a Bludger in the stomach and we lost the match. Ensign wouldn't stop rubbing it in our faces for weeks afterwards, and Wood was furious."

"Yes, my dear, but this seems a little vain," Scorpius commented as she dabbed a bead of oil on a rag and started rubbing it into the leather grip.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Rose quirked a grin at him. He chuckled. A mournful croak echoed through the Great Hall, and a large toad hopped onto the table next to Scorpius. Rose eyed it with mixed trepidation and fondness. Scorpius picked it up, rubbing its bumpy green skin against his cheek.

"There you are!" he cooed. "I've been looking everywhere for you, darling!" The toad croaked in a resigned sort of way, its eyes half-closing as Scorpius set it down and rubbed it between its eyes. "He's taken to disappearing in the oddest places; I found him in the girls' dormitories just the other night."

"What were you doing in the girls' dormitories?" Rose asked, setting her club down and looking at him rather fiercely. Scorpius rested his chin in his hand, grinning.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Rosie dearest," he winked. She picked up her club again, running her hands over its newly polished surface lovingly.

"Are you aware of how many Bludgers I've destroyed with this club?" she asked sweetly. Scorpius looked between her face and the club nervously. "Third year. Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. I shattered a Bludger in one go. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I cracked the new one trying to hit it towards Nott. Fourth year. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I disintegrated both Bludgers. Fifth year—"

"Yes, love, you've made your point," Scorpius said hastily. "For your information, no girls were in the dormitory at the time other than Moaning Myrtle, and she hardly counts." He leaned across the table, his usual debonair smile painted across his face. "My heart belongs only to you, Rose Weasley."

She turned bright red and put her palm in his face, shoving him back towards his seat. He sat down hard and pouted, rubbing his toad in his sweet spot (the spot just below his jaw) and making his skin dance with multicolored rainbow spots.

"Oh, Reginald, how cruel love is!" he lamented, holding the toad aloft in his hand. "My sweet, she is an angel, but I do confess, she hath a devil in her!" He looked across the table at her slyly. "Speaking of which, fairest Rosie, would you like to go with me to the Yule Ball?"

Rose, who hadn't quite recovered her natural color, turned scarlet once again.

"Stop messing around," she muttered, far too used to the odd ways Scorpius' brain jumped from subject to subject to comment on the non sequitur, picking up her club and standing. Scorpius vaulted across the table and went down on bended knee (the various girls in the Great Hall oohed).

"Rose Elizabeth Weasley, would you allow me, Scorpius Hyperion Archibald Malfoy, to escort you to the Yule Ball?" he asked without a trace of a joke in his eyes, taking her hands in his. Rose looked around her self-consciously, biting her lip.

"Are you serious?"

"Perfectly."

"No tricks?"

"Not a whit."

"Archibald?"

"It's something new I'm trying. Has a certain flair, doesn't it?"

Rose smiled. "Drop the Archibald and I'll go with you."

"Done," Scorpius pressed her hands to his lips. "You see, Reginald? This is how you treat a lady, not by sneaking into her chambers at night."

Reginald croaked as Rose laughed.

"I hate to point this out, Scorpy, but you've done that, as well."

"Have I?" he asked breezily, standing and looping her arm within his. "Must have slipped my memory."

"You did it on a bet with Nick Langley that you could get a pair of my knickers to display in the Great Hall," Rose deadpanned. "Remember, I hexed you so badly you were walking around with antlers growing out of your nose for a month?"

"How could I forget?" Scorpius cringed. "I was young and foolish then."

"It was September," Rose smothered her giggle.

"Exactly!" Scorpius winked. "What do you say, Rosie, care to accompany me on the grounds and do some racing?"

"Hark, do I hear a challenge?" Rose cupped her hands around her ear. "Scorpius Hyperion Archibald Malfoy, challenging the Hogwarts reigning broomstick racer?"

"You said Archibald!" Scorpius said excitedly, scooping Reginald up and depositing the toad on his head (where, from years of practice and training, the toad secreted some slimy adhesive and stuck to his master's hair).

"I can't help it. It does have a certain ring to it," Rose laughed and picked up her club. "I'll meet you out front, then?"

"I'll be waiting," Scorpius fluttered his eyelashes and waved goodbye as Rose blushed, giggled, and stumbled up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. He turned on his heel and headed towards the dungeons, where the Slytherin dormitories were, Reginald croaking with every step.


A/N: Just a little bit of fluff, set in the Albus Severus Potter fic I'm wrestling with. I LOVE my interpretations of these characters, Scorpius especially; to my mind, he's one part inbred madness to two parts creativity, probably the most random, unpredictable character I've ever made. He IS a Slytherin, because he can be cunning and he's ambitious, not to mention pureblood, but he's also incredibly loyal and will stand by his friends until the end. Rosie is a bit of a harpy, vicious on the Quidditch field and dating field alike, but she has a big heart and can be a pushover when her boys (Al and Scorpius) aren't threatened.

Take it for what it is, a character study and bit of fluff. Asty, this is all your fault and you should be proud. :D