Hello all! First story in months! This will be a multi-chapter fic at some point. I'm loving this idea. Credit to moonprincess92 for inspiring me with the chocolate thing. This story turned out quite a bit different than hers, but still, I got the idea from her, so she gets credit.
Usual disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Emergency Chocolate, Chapter 1
Scorpius Malfoy was a brave man, he liked to think. At sixteen years of age, he'd faced down a lot of things that are pretty terrifying for a young wizard. Like girls. And puberty. And social pressures, like underage drinking and doing drugs and stuff. He liked to think he could handle anything. He liked to think he would always perform well under pressure, thinking on his feet.
This little world he'd created was shattered the first time he found Rose Weasley crying.
Scorpius Malfoy had actively avoided the Weasley clan for years. He knew their reputation, knew who his parents were and who their parents were, and decided from an early age that the best course of action was to just not get involved. Get his education, figure out what he wanted to do in life, and stay out of their collective way.
Therefore, it was a bit of a shock when he found the young ginger in tears, hiding in an alcove beside a spiral staircase within the lower levels of Ravenclaw Tower. Despite being in both her house and her year, he'd never talked to her. For that matter, he'd never really talked to anyone. Mostly he just read books and studied. Books weren't rude to him. Books didn't care who his parents were.
He approached with caution, not sure what to do in this situation. His mother had told him never to leave a crying woman alone, and he considered himself a gentleman, but up until that point, he'd never actually needed to follow her advice- it simply had not occurred to him that the situation may arise.
"Miss Weasley?" he whispered awkwardly. It was quite late, and he would miss curfew if he didn't get back to the common room soon, but he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment. "Miss Weasley, are you alright?"
"No I am not bloody alright!" she cried at him, less the 'tears' kind of crying and more the 'screaming in fury' kind, although tears did continue to fall from her eyeballs.
He crouched down beside her, conjuring a tissue from his wand. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, still not quite sure what to do in this situation, but unwilling to leave her alone in this state.
"No I don't," she responded, a bit calmer this time, if a bit meant a whole lot. He sat down beside her, not touching her at all, just next to her, adjacent in a manner that said 'I'm here to listen'. He'd never been much of a talker, but he was one hell of a listener, he liked to think. He drew his legs into his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees, awkwardly staring at the quietly sobbing girl in front of him.
After a few minutes of silence (well, silence and Rose crying), the ginger girl looked up at him again, sniffling.
"What do you want?" she asked in a manner that seemed accusing, as though he wanted something.
"My name is Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy."
And all at once, she stopped crying.
It registered on every level of Scorpius' brain, and he silently applauded himself.
"What?" she tilted her head, still sniffling.
"You didn't seem to know my name," the blond answered. "My name is Scorpius. I would like you to stop crying."
She sat up abruptly, her back meeting the side of the wall, and turned to look out the window. "Well, you got your wish, I guess."
He said nothing, merely following her gaze, before turning to look at her once more. He began to analyze every detail of her; cheeks red, eyes puffy, nose running. She wasn't the kind of girl who seemed beautiful when crying, if those girls even existed. For that matter, she didn't seem particularly beautiful when she wasn't crying, if memory, served. She, like himself, was just a quiet sort of pretty, the kind you didn't notice behind all the beautiful people. Her hair was straight, but noticeably, deliberately so, as though she'd spent long hours forcing it to be that way, and had to constantly maintain it to keep it just right. As it was, strands were beginning to get loose, and the rain that was starting to fall out the window meant that the humidity would probably make it stand on end if she didn't take care of it soon. Her outfit was just as frazzled as her hair; which is to say, not very, but in a way that seemed like she'd spent a great deal of effort to make it that way. Actually, looking at her as a whole, she seemed like someone who had put an enormous amount of time and energy into appearing to be perfect, or as close to perfect as she could manage. He deduced this all in a manner of seconds, not unusual for him. He'd just finished reading the complete Sherlock Holmes series, and was still coming down from that feeling that you get when you read a particularly good book and find yourself thinking and acting like the main character for a while. Fortunately, Rose hadn't seemed to notice.
"Are you crying because you feel like nobody notices the real you?" he blurted out.
"Wha- huh?" Rose turned to look at him, cocking a single eyebrow incredulously.
"You seem like you've been missing something important in your life. Everything about you is carefully well-groomed, from your hair to your shoes. You've spent a lot of energy trying to impress people, and trying to keep that reputation. I imagine that must be quite exhausting."
She laughed bitterly. "Scorpius, have you been stalking me? Or maybe reading my mind?"
"N-not at all, Miss Weasley," the blond began awkwardly. "I noticed that from the way you appear. Your hair is too straight; your clothes are too organized. It's as though you're trying very very hard to look like you're not trying at all." He said these things, and really all of the things he said, just the way he talked as a whole, in a very matter-of-fact way, with no arrogance or opinion in his tone, just a simple stating of fact, very polite in his manner. One might say he sounded very much like a young male Luna Lovegood, if one were familiar with both him and said witch, and were so inclined to go around rudely comparing people who'd never met each other.
Rose sat up a bit straighter, bringing her full attention to bear on him. He felt himself being analyzed the way he'd been analyzing her moments before. He maintained eye contact, even as she looked him up and down.
"My parents told me about you, years ago," she began. At his lack-of-response, she kept going. "They said you'd be a challenge. They said you'd be rude and arrogant. They told me to beat you at every exam, and not to let you bully me." His eyes went wide. She continued. "You haven't said a word to me, or anyone I know of for that matter, in six years. I've not seen you around at all. I mean, we're in the same house, that's obvious from the blue robes, but I don't know you, I've never met you… who are you, Scorpius?"
He had no answer. His mental faculties were unable to answer such questions. He was dimly aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this was the longest conversation he'd ever had with a fellow Hogwarts student.
After a long pause, he forced himself to change the subject. "In the future, if I should happen upon a crying woman and nobody else is around to help, what should I do?" he asked cautiously.
She giggled. "Well, first of all, that tissue trick was useful. Start with that. Ask what's wrong, but don't expect an answer. And if she seems angry, don't do that whole deduction trick. Actually, probably best if you don't do that ever." She gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It's weird."
He nodded accordingly, noting this in his mind. "Anything else?" he queried.
"Chocolate," she replied. "Chocolate is the best way to soothe a crying woman."
"Am I just supposed to keep chocolate with me at all times?"
"That's not a bad idea!" she started. "Maybe keep some in your robe pocket, with a charm on it to keep it from melting." She laughed quietly. "Emergency chocolate."
Scorpius smiled wide, bringing himself to his feet. He held out his hand, helping her up.
"Thanks for your help, Scorpius." She stood, embracing him. After his shock wore off, he wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair. Just as abruptly, she released him, turning to ascend the stairs.
"Glad I could help, Miss Weasley," he called after her.
"Call me Rose!" she yelled down, not turning to look at him. He slipped his hands into his pockets and followed her up.
Next chapter should be uploaded in a day or so; thanks for reading, please review!