He always had that feeling, that sixth sense.

He always knew where to find her.

In sadness and happiness, there was that voice in his mind, screaming the way to her.

And the voice was always right.

Except from those Rose-in spots in the castle that everybody knew she would be, like her favorite corner in the library, or the corridor outside the owlery, she always found new hiding places, where he was the only one who could find her.

The sixth grade Slytherin boy walked straight ahead at the nearly empty corridor, not paying attention to the few students who were getting down to the Great Hall for dinner.

He felt a bit hot from his quick step and untied his tie, its ends fall on his chest, and unbuttoning the very first buttons of his white shirt.

It was a warm autumn evening, and although it was getting darker already, the temperature allowed his slightly open shirt.

Taking a few turns and climbing two staircases, he reached an empty hallway, which must be in one of the towers of Hogwarts.

He had never been here before, or at least he couldn't remember it. But a portrait with a very old witch drinking white wine, seemed familiar.

He shook his head to clear his mind, making his blond hair dance a bit.

He had them long enough to fall into his eyes, due to her. She had told him she liked them like that, and since then, he cut it only a bit every time, to give them the chance to grow back to her preferring.

He headed to the one of the four doors, the one to his right, and after a light knock, he opened it.

It was a quite small room, containing some old furniture and a couple of desks.

Right opposite from the door was a large window with view at the hills, where the low sun was about to set.

The most of the furniture were put up at the corners, but there was a large couch in the middle.

Behind of it, he could clearly see a messy knot of red curls, standing still, as Rose Weasley was staring out of the window.

He could smell that sweet aroma of her, and hear her even breathing in the grave silence.

He closed the door behind him and only then those two blue eyes turned to face him, to recognize him.

"Scorp", she said simply, looking at him, her eyes sad. Her face was calm, but her eyes were screaming her pain. "You scared me."

"Old habits die hard" he tried to smile down at her. She was sitting on the floor, her knees up to her chest, her back leaning to the lower part of the sofa. Around her, there were spread books, pieces of parchment, written and not, and her quill was next to her foot.

"How the hell did you find me?" she asked, a bit curious, now putting an arm around her legs.

"I always find you" he took a few steps towards her. "I always do. But what are you doing here?"

"Clearing my mind", Rose answered, turning her eyes out f the window again, as if he was going to read the truth into them. She knew he was great in Legimency, but could she possibly think he was going to use it to her right now?

Scorpius knelt down, pushing a few papers away, making space for him, and he sat down on the floor, inches from her, smelling her hair, feeling her warmth.

He reached her chin with his fingers, forcing her slowly to turn and look at him. It was then he faced the reason that made her turn her head away, her eyes were wet, her lips were trembling.

Rage, so unexpected, so overly unreasoned, so huge, conquered him, reaching every fiber of his body, making them tensed and .

He knew it was him. He knew who drove her there. The one who made her cry.

Trying to calm himself down, trying to breath, the only thing that was in his mind was what has he done. Was it something big? Because if it was…

"What has he done?" he asked the girl, putting his hands on her shoulders, who stayed in silence for some moments, before speaking.

"Who?" she asked stupidly, avoiding the answer, as well as his gaze.

"Look at me Rosie!" Scorpius he almost whispered, his voice trembling of anger and fury. ""Who?! Who?! You can't trick me Rosie! I know you better than my palm. He did something to you. That bloody Hufflepuffle bastard. Vabin. That's who I'm talking about! Tell me what it is!" he requested, a bit calmed down, taking in deep breaths, unable to think clear.

"I … I caught him … with Jennifer Aloccin." her voice broke, eyes locked to him now, begging to be cured, to be healed.

Although his whole soul was screaming to run over, and kick that jerk's ash, he couldn't leave those eyes alone.

That's what friends do. Not kicking ashes –only- , but being there, always.

Especially best friends.

'But that's what girls do. And chickens.' And if he was sure for something in the world, it was that anybody hurt her, deserved a few broken bones.

Definitely.

He placed his hand on the sofa, pushing down, determined to stand up, murmuring a "he's totally dead.", but her own hand stopped him.

After her pleading gaze, he wasn't able to hold back.

"Do you think he can stay there safe and sound, laughing at you?" anger was getting over his logic.

"Please." she begged under her breath "I don't want you to earn detention. Please, don't do it."

That moment, he really had the intention to run and find that git, but subconsciously, he reached his hand which was on the sofa and cupped her cheek.

"I can cope with everything when it's for you, Rosie."

The first tear rooted down her hot cheek and slowly, he took her in his arms, placing her between his legs, her owns resting on his right, and she leant her head onto his left shoulder, letting tears come down freely now, with no limitations.

He held her tight, and she wrapped his shirt with her fists.

In another case, considering their positions and touching, Scorpius would have felt rather uncomfortable, but that right moment, there wasn't time for selfish thoughts.

It was only her that mattered.

Only her.

Only making her feel better.

He could die to see her smile right then.

But then he thought that Rose would have never smiled at his funeral, plus, she would kill him if he died.

She was just right that.

It was that kind of girl who would give everything to make her loved ones happy, the one who always knew what to do, how to react, how to think clearly and quickly.

And now, he was the one in that position. And he sucked!

She had even started sobbing. Who? Rosie the dynamite!

He had simply no idea what to do.

She was always there for him, even when his mum died and kept him together.

Now it was his task to help her over that bastard.

He tightened his grip over her trembling body, dragging her close, he leaned on her ear, whispering.

"He doesn't deserve someone like you. It's not your fault flower. It's all his. Don't cry. Please don't cry. Yell at me, hit me, curse me, but don't cry. I can't stand this; it's killing me my angel. It's killing me." He closed his eyes too, placing his chin at the top of her head, unable to avoid smelling her hair.

Her right hand reached his open shirt and moved to his chest. Her whole palm was pressing on his pale skin while her other hand moved to his back, holding herself onto him, never wanting to let go.

He started rocking back and forth while he was cuddling her as a baby. She was so vulnerable, so broken.

He wasn't used to that side of hers. It wasn't the first time he saw her lose her and cry, but it was the first time she was crying for a boy.

He felt horrible even in the thought of anyone touching her, or even kissing her. He should have never let her have something with that bastard.

But that was selfish.

He had once tried to find a proper guy for her, but the truth was that he couldn't find one to stand by her. The ones that weren't horrible were just nice and ordinary.

Maybe he shouldn't be so overprotective.

She was strong and capable of controlling a situation like this one, and not to mention her jinxes could leave a dragon dizzy for a whole week.

But was he overprotective? Or just jealous? Or the both of them?

Her warm hand was still inside his shirt, touching his bare skin, where there was a

downy line of blonde hair, her nails digging into his flesh, the pain unnoticeable considering the one of his arching heart, at the spot her hot tears were running their path down his collarbone.

And he tightened more his grip, opening his eyes, making them feel as one, trying to get his thoughts away, and concentrate on making her feel good.

And she hung over him, pressing against his hot body, and now she had stopped sobbing, or even crying. Now she was just staying into his protective arms.

His hand was low at her waistband, where her white shirt was pulled up from her sitting position, and his fingers were touching her waist.

Her exposed skin was soft and smooth, and the desire of his hands running through her body, discovering every tiny inch of this amazing masterpiece was almost unbearable.

Moreover, he had just noticed that her skirt was pulled up too, exposing a great part of her thigh, making him close his eyes to avoid the view.

No. He was strictly refusing to ruin his perfect relationship over the years with Rose for some crazy hormones.

No. She didn't want him. On the bottom line, she was with Vabin for 3 weeks at least. This isn't a great amount of time, but it is when you want someone else.

So Rosie didn't want him. End of story.

But he couldn't avoid her hand on his bare chest, his hand at her waistband, her exposed thigh, her broken heart begging to be healed and her lips on his neck that moment.

That moment. That moment and those three words, the last three words he expected to hear from her right that moment, derailed his train of thoughts.

"I love you"

She had lifted a bit her head from the crook of his neck and her big blue eyes had search for his, but she found them closed, lost in the depths of their owner's confusion.

Scorpius immediately opened them, and looked at the sincerity of her eyes, unable to believe it was true.

"I love you, Scorp, you know it, right?" she continued, and the air in his lungs was frozen, the blood in his veins was stopped, as he felt his heart not pulsing anymore.

She hid her face once more between his muscles.

"You are the best friend one could have. And I mean it. I don't know what I'd done without you."

His brain started to work, and he tried to breath, cursing himself for thinking something more, for hoping.

"You save my life, I save your soul." He managed, putting effort on a week smile that his heart clouded immediately.

"Just promise you'll never leave me. Do this for me. That you'll always be here. Because I need you, Scorp."

"I swear." His voice was sincere and strong, and gathering her knees up to the height of his stomach, she moved her hands around his neck, lifting herself a bit up, as she became a ball curled up into his arms, finally more relaxed now she knew he would never leave her, or hurt her.

She placed a soft kiss on his cheek, while her lips were stilled there more than it needed, causing him to shiver in the touch, so near his mouth, and whispered in his ear.

"Thank you, star."

Her breath was hot and made him shiver harder, but he swallowed the urge to grab her head and kiss her till she was breathless, to run his tongue along every sweet inch of her, to play with her curls while sucking on her skin, and do not stop looking into her beautiful eyes.

But he had no right. He couldn't put demands on her. Simply because she wasn't his.

She was his best friend.

And while his mind and logic had all attentions to keep her the best friend, his heart was arching for more. More, that weren't proper for a friend only.

"I meant it when I said I don't want you to hit him."

The statement found him unprepared and it took him some moments to reply.

"So, you Rose Angela Weasley left him unhurt and came here? And do you think I can be restrained when I'll see him again?"

"Actually, when you'll see him, he'll have a purple eye and some bruises for sure." She slowly said, blushing.

"Rosie! You're unbelievable!" he laughed and brimmed proudly "That's my girl!" and then whispered "Come here angel." hugging her again, as she rested on him, closing her eyes.

It wasn't long after that her breathing was stabilized and her body relaxed.

She had fallen asleep.

And he leaned back to the legs of the sofa, exhausted as her, letting sleep to take him too.

He didn't care about curfew, or if they were both punished, he didn't care if they would be searching them, or what they'd think.

He just wanted to sleep there, to spend the night at this deserted room, away from the world, with her in his arms.

With his little angel.