Rose was bright in every sense of the word the dictionary had to offer. Of course, her hair was the first thing to come to mind: a wild mane of curls the colour of a sunset, so different from Scorpius's sleek, icy blond. Like a moth to a flame - a phrase that suited the smouldering hue of her hair - Scorpius found himself drawn to her. Her eyes, filled with sun-drenched summer skies, were bright too; a fire kindled behind them whenever she spoke of things she cared about. He tried not to stare. It never worked.
Then there was the way the teachers used the word. An exceptionally bright girl, they would say, just like her mother. Devouring books at a rate matching Scorpius's, she sought the answers for everything. Rose simply would not rest until the truth was found. Her mind was keener than the sharpest blade, slicing effortlessly through perplexing puzzles and curious questions; her wit was as stinging as a whip lash, sarcastic, smart, and satirical. Everyone knew she had a promising future ahead of her. Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, Scorpius desperately wanted to be a part of it.
And when she laughed, which was often, it shone from her face in dazzling, joyful rays. He first saw her laugh when they were both first-years. That was also the first time he had felt a glow in his chest (now painfully familiar to him) that made it so very hard to breathe.
Trembling with nerves for his very first Potions lesson, Scorpius had nudged his cauldron *ever* so slightly as he went to collect it. The laws of physics were feeling particularly vindictive that day. Every cauldron on the shelf toppled like dominoes. Stared at from all directions and scarlet in the face, he blurted out: "It was the cauldron's fault!" Rose burst out into laughter and Scorpius joined in almost immediately. When the teacher felt there was no end in sight, they were sent out into the corridor to calm down, which had only sent them further into hysterics. Ever since then they had been the best of friends. It hadn't exactly gone down well with their families. Despite their differences in nature, Scorpius being a quietly clever introvert and Rose an exuberantly extroverted brainiac, they balanced each other out well, their opposing personalities complimenting each other.
He had passed off the glow as nothing more than friendly affection at first. Who doesn't feel glad at the sight of their best friend? By their fourth year he was beginning to suspect it might mean something deeper. He realised, with increasing horror, that his eyes always followed Rose as she entered the Great Hall; when she smiled at him from the Ravenclaw table, his stomach gave a jolt, his face burned, and he looked away in embarrassment. On those rare occasions that her temper flared he was the only one who could - or would even dare - calm her down. Her tears wrenched painfully at his heart. He would do anything to see that lopsided grin flit across her face again, to hear that musical laugh.
Doubtlessly, Rose Weasley was bright, leaving a trail of dazzling colour in Scorpius's serious, black-and-white world. She was the starlight that shone through the darkness, the firefly in the bleak night sky that drove away despair. But he was terrified to tell her. How could he risk losing the girl that lit up his life? And so he never did, the secret burning more intensely with every passing day...
They were in their fifth year, and after the OWLs were over at last, Rose and Scorpius left their noisy, boisterous friends and relaxed in the shadow of an oak tree. It was a golden day, a peaceful day, a day for reminiscing on old memories and looking forward to the the new. Hiding the bunch of roses (he felt it was appropriate) behind his back, Scorpius took a deep breath. His heart was beating wildly. Rose hugged her knees, gazing at the blue sky with eyes even bluer. Under the soft sunlight, her freckles glowed like constellations. A small smile of contentment curved the edges of her lips and her hair, usually slung out of the way in a practical ponytail, was a waterfall of glossy ringlets spilling down her back. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. 'If not now, then when?' he thought. He cleared his throat.
"There's something I need to tell you..."
Author's note: So this is the first fanfiction I've ever written and I thought that Harry Potter, my first fandom, was a good place to start... I have discovered that I am, in fact, shipping trash. Whoops. Also disclaimers: I'm not JK, and I sadly cannot claim that I created the masterpiece known as Harry Potter, or own any of the characters. Hopefully you like it, thanks for reading!