Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of it's wonderful characters, it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

"So why do your cousins hate me so much?" Scorpius Malfoy asks me one day as he sits on the couch in the Head Boy/Girl Common Room during our seventh year.

I look at him exasperated from my spot on the floor where he's playing with my curly red hair.

"I mean," he continues, "is it because I'm a Malfoy, because you know I'm not a Death Eater."

"No, Scor," I say, "we all know better than to judge people by their parentage."

"Then why?" my oh-so-oblivious boyfriend asks me.

"For the same reasons I hate you," I tell him.

"But I thought you loved me!" he cries in a mock hurt voice.

I roll my eyes.

"It's a love/hate relationship," I say.

"So go on," he says.

"Well," I begin, "for one you're a Slytherin, and our rival in Quidditch, so I guess they think I'm betraying my house."

"Tell me about it," he mutters.

I smile at him; we'd both been getting grief for "betraying out houses."

"Also," I continue, "you've been picking on our family since you met us; it's in the Weasley/Potter and Malfoy blood to hate each other."

"Though, you did always seem to like to pick on me the most…" I muse.

He just smirks at that.

I go on, "and, you are an arrogant git who thinks everyone loves him and thinks he rules the school."

"Me? Arrogant?" he scoffs. I just roll my eyes and pray he wasn't being serious.

"You totally take advantage of girls and are always snogging stupid bimbos."

"That's not true!" he objects.

I raise my eyebrow at him.

"I mean it was," he consents, "but not anymore! Not since I've started dating you!"

I smile at this; who knew I had such an influence over Malfoy?

"That's true," I agree, "buts that's how you were, and I hated you for it."

He smirks at me, "Jealous?"

I decide not to comment and go on, "as much as it pains me to say it, you are actually smart, though god knows how. You're my biggest rival in school."

He smirks at this, "I think, dear Rose; that is why you hate me, not your cousins."

I blush, "oh, yeah."

"So go on," he says, "this is interesting."

"Well," I say, "we're constantly bickering and hexing each other."

"So?" he raises his eyebrow at me, "what does that have to do with them?"

"Well I guess they don't think we could ever get along, 'cause it seems like we hate each other."

He smirks, "I guess they're wrong."

"Guess so." I smirk back.

"And lastly," I conclude, "I guess they hate you because…you make me love you."

At this he snorts.

"They have no right to hate me for that."

I grin up at him, "You're right."

He leans his head down to kiss me softly on the lips, and then returns to his former position.

"So what do you love about me then?"

I look at him, confused.

"Well," he explains, "you said this was a love/hate relationship."

I nod in confirmation.

"So," he continues, "you've told me about the hate part, now I want to know about the love part."

I smile up at him in an exasperated way.

"Well, your hair," I mutter, embarrassed.

"I thought you hated my hair?" he smirks, "I thought you said, and I quote, 'it's blonde and slimy and stupid, and only such a git as you would have hair like that.'"

I laugh at the memory, "I guess it's grown on me."

He smirks again, "go on."

"Your eyes," I say.

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

"Well, I've never known someone with grey eyes before," I say, looking up at him with my stormy blue ones, "I guess something about them draws me in."

He laughs at that, and I roll my eyes for thinking Scorpius could be serious for so long.

"So go on," he says between laughs, "this is getting interesting."

I glare at him with my best Grandma glare, and he shuts up. Smart boy.

"Your smile," I say, "you so rarely use it, and I love it when I'm lucky enough to be the one to see it."

And he smiles that rare smile and so I go on.

"Also," I say, blushing, "it does feel pretty great when we kiss."

He smirks and pulls down for another kiss.

"You mean like that?" He asks. I smirk at him.

"When we're bickering," I continue, "it just feels right."

He raises his eyebrows, and I explain, "I don't know why, but I guess I just need to be with you, it feels wrong when we're not bickering, I guess that's just a part of who we are."

He snorts at this, "that sounded disgustingly overly romantic and odd."

I roll my eyes at this, "way to try to be serious for more than ten seconds."

He smirks.

"But you're right though," he concedes, "go on."

"Well, all those girls you snogged did kind of make me jealous."

"Ha!" he says, "I knew it!"

"But only once I realized I might possibly, unbelievably, inconceivably, amazingly, maybe like you. And then I realized there might be that slim chance that you actually liked me back, and that those girls were actually supposed to make me jealous."

He looks at me questioningly.

"Lily," I respond, referring to my younger cousin who planted that seemingly impossible notion in my head. He nods, smirking.

"And then that kind of made me feel like you cared; which was odd."

He smirks. He does that a lot, in case you hadn't noticed.

"So keep going," he says.

"And your smirk," I say smirking myself.

"I thought you HATED that!" he exclaims.

I smirk, "I did, but I guess it's just a part of you now; you're not you without it."

And so then he smirks his smirk that I've grown to love and says, "and finally?"

"And finally," I say, "I love that you make me love you."

This time he pulls me up for a long kiss, and I'm reminded again why that which I love about him out numbers that which I hate. Because, underneath all his smirking and sarcasm, there really is a sincere, nice guy under there, and I'm so glad that I'm the lucky one that gets to see it.

A/N: Yes, this was inspired by the song "Seven Things;" No, I don't particularly like that song, but this came to me anyway; Yes, I changed it up quite a bit. Anyway, thanks for reading!