Ok, so I don't mean to alarm you but AN UPDATE WITHIN TWO DAYS?! WHAAAAA?! IS THIS CRAZY OR WHAT?! I'm just so excited that while I have any kind of drive and inspiration I'm gunna try to just keep smashing things out, coz I'm excited about this piece and it's companion so I want to share it with you lovely folks as soon as possible. And I tell you what, there is nothing more inspiring than posting a story one night and waking up the next day with over 80 email notifications – you bunch of crazy cats!

On that note – to anyone that reviewed, especially you kind souls who wished me well with my recovery and my health, THANK YOU. You have absolutely no idea how much your words mean to me. You have kept a smile on my face for days now, and that is no small feat. You all inspire me and help to keep me going, I really cannot thank you enough. I'm hoping that I'll be able to reply to as many reviews as possible because I feel like I owe you all that, you magnificent creatures. All my love!

Anyways, here's the next chappie (which, surprise surprise, somehow became a lot bigger than I had planned. Whoops). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: as before, these characters are not mine.

2. Scorpius Malfoy's Roof

The first thought Rose has is to tell the bird that is currently plucking at her hair to cease and desist before she plucks every feather from its tiny defenceless body.

It takes her a solid 3.2 seconds to realise rather than being the symptom of a(nother) killer hangover, the feeling of a bird attacking her head is due to the fact that there is a goddam bird nesting in her hair.

"What the f-AH!" Rose stands quickly before promptly falling on her ass and sliding down whatever slippery and uneven surface she finds herself on. She clutches wildly at her surroundings and tries to dig her heels into the surface, all the while dealing with the squawking bird that she's apparently very disrespectfully disturbed during her poor display of balance. With her eyes closed due to them not yet functioning properly (thanks sun, for completely disregarding my hangover. Asshole.), she can't see a thing as she clutches wildly around her whilst doing a smashing job of imitating the squawking bird in her hair. After the most horrifying 2 seconds of her life, Rose is able to halt her decent (to what is assumedly hell) and take a breath. Now that she had successfully evaded death, she was ready to ask the important questions.

Where was she?

Where the fuck was she?

In a way that was much to eerily reminiscent of the last time Rose drank so much she lost her memory, an all too familiar, much too arrogant voice calls to her, "Morning Rosie!"

No. No. NO.

There was no way in hell she had let this happen again.

Upon opening her eyes, Rose looks around and realizes she can't see the bane of her existence in all his sexy sexiness (Shut UP libido!). What she can see is sky, rooftops, and tiles. It's then that it hits her – she's on a goddam roof. And she is willing to bet it isn't her own.

Rose inches closer to the edge of the rooftop until she can get a glimpse of the ground. And surprise, surprise, there stands Scorpius Malfoy, shirtless (again), nursing a steaming cup of coffee (again), and smirking (like always). Which leads her to the only possible, semi-logical conclusion – she's on Scorpius Malfoy's roof.

How the hell did she get here?

Rose voices her thought, which only makes Jerky McJerkson's smirk grow.

"You don't remember, darling?"

She really doesn't enjoy how much he seems to be saying that to her lately. Or the fact that he's started calling her 'darling' (except that she really doesn't mind that at all really). She wants to refute his obnoxious statement, to tell him she remembers everything perfectly fine thank you, but that would be lying and Rose is honestly completely baffled as to how she ended up on anyone's roof, let alone Scorpius Malfoy's, and she kinda really wants to know how/what happened. Apparently he doesn't take her silence as confirmation of the fact, and is going to force her to actually vocalize it. What a dick.

"Of course I do, I just asked for funsies," she congratulates herself on her superb sarcasm levels, even if she doesn't quite manage the whit she is usually equipped with. She adds an eye roll for extra effect, even though rolling her eyes skywards almost blinds her, "Now care to tell me what you did to make me end up, up here?"

He clutches his free hand over the space on his chest that masks the dark chasm that, if he were a regular person, might house his heart. But this is Scorpius Malfoy, so no such thing exists. He's probably powered solely on snark and the misfortunes of others and children's tears. Douche.

"You think that I – moi – was the cause of your misfortune," he pretends to wince, but the action is completely undone by the fact that his smirk takes up his whole goddam pointy perfect face, "Rosie-Dear, you wound me!"

She ignores the stupid pet name he's started using since The Incident and just glares a little harder, though it's impossible to tell the difference given that the goddam sun seems intent on blinding her so her eyes aren't all that open to begin with. Seriously – was it just her or was it like, a thousand times more sunnier today than usual? Stupid celestial body.

(NOTE: part of the reason Rose tactfully ignores the pet names Scorpius has started using for her – including, but not limited to, 'love', 'darling', 'dear', 'pumpkin', and 'sunshine' – is because he first started using them after The Incident, and Rose figured he had too much leverage over her with that damn photograph to be able to assault him for it. So she just ignored it, and continues to ignore it, because if she reacts she's sure The Daily Prophet is going to have a front page spread of her ass in the least sexy pair of underwear she owns, and she simply cannot risk that. Her parents fought The Dark Lord for crying out loud, her legacy in this family will not be 'The One Who Appeared on the Front of the Paper in Granny-Undies')

(Plus there might be a teeny tiny piece of Rose that kind of likes the way her toes curl when he calls her 'love'.)

(A teeny, tiny stupid part).

"How the hell did I end up on your roof then, Asshole?" She basically spits the words at him and does her damned best job at crossing her arms spectacularly without simultaneously toppling off the roof, or upsetting the mentally unhinged bird still attempting to nest in her hair.

"Now, now – there's no need for that kind of language, Sweetums," ok, there was a fucking line, and he just crossed it, "A simple 'please my love, tell me what transpired last night' will suffice."

"The day I call you 'my love', is the day hell freezes over."

Scorpius let a smile bloom across his face – that same sneaky 'I know something you don't' look he gave her a lot last time she found herself without her memory and at his apartment. But let's not mention that, ok?

"Are you always this feisty in the morning, Rosie?" when she opens her mouth to retort he holds up a hand to stop her and ok Mister, I don't know who you think you are but that is not how you ask Rose Weasley to be quiet, "Wait! Don't answer that, I'd much prefer to find out for myself with extensive, vigorous testing in future."

And then he winks at her.

I shit you not - a motherfucking wink.

Wait.

Extensive?

Vigorous?

Did Scorpius Malfoy just insinuate that she, Rose Weasley, would be staying at his house (presumably in his bed? Or at least somewhere that wasn't the fucking roof) overnight so he could see her in the morning, with some of the in-between spent doing the deed?

WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?!

Rose apparently stayed silent for an extended period of time and the look on her face was apparently incredibly ridiculous because the man on the ground beneath her practically starts cackling with laughter. Damn, she provided him with exactly the reaction he was looking for. Stupid arrogant prat.

When Scorpius eventually comes back to himself, wiping the tears from his eyes mind you, he looks up at her with the same (glorious, butterfly-inducing, fucking infuriating) smile. "Oh Merlin you should see your face!"

"Well you should see your…" abs, pectorals, cheekbones, ass…THESE ARE NOT HELPFUL INSULTS BRAIN, "…feet."

Oh the whit of Rose Weasley – it shall become a thing of legend.

Scorpius simply raises an eyebrow and deadpans, "You're hair is literally a bird's nest – you do not get to pass judgment on other people's appearance."

Rose is sorely tempted to shout a 'don't tell me what to do!' at him, but she has to concede he has a point.

"Speaking of birds," her segue is terrible but she's sticking with it, "mind telling me why the fuck I'm on your roof?"

He smirks and sips his coffee, "I like how you say that as if it's my fault…"

"Well I'm sure I didn't come up here all by myself!"

Actually she's not sure of that at all. In all honesty that could be exactly what she would do if she's had enough wine. And last night – a celebration of making it straight into the final of the World Cup in two months – had much wine. She remembers that Scorpius elected to host their festivities for the first time in the history of ever. Seriously, the dude was weirdly private despite being one of the biggest celebrities in England, it was like a great feat of mankind to get into his house. (She remembers Maurice, his fellow beater in the World Cup side who usually played for Appleby Arrows, making some comment about the paradoxical nature of it all – Scorpius was one of the most worshipped and well-known players in the entire competition, yet people knew next to nothing about the man himself. Maurice had his suspicions that Malfoy did it on purpose; that the mystery of being the league's enigma got him the ladies. Rose thought of the amount of duels he'd gotten into at school when people called him a Death Eater, and somehow thought that it might be for another reason entirely). So the entire World Cup side had been at Scorpius' house, and despite the season not being finished, they all conceded that perhaps a celebratory glass of fine elven wine was not out of the question.

And then they decided that rather than simply a glass or two, they probably needed a celebratory bottle. Each.

And that's about where Rose's recollection of the night's events ends.

She remembers music and dancing and twirling and laughing, and the faceless blurs of her teammates chanting at her, and all of them singing the National Anthem with pride. But other than that, the specifics on the night are completely lost on her. And she doesn't like it one bit. Namely because she's sure that said shady specifics that are currently eluding her would probably supply her with the reason that she thought Scorpius' roof was the most comfortable place to sleep. Seriously, it's even worse than the floor of his ensuite. (Tis a sad, sad, day that Rose Weasley actually wishes to be back where she was months beforehand when The Incident occurred. Although admittedly this hangover isn't quite as bad as the last, thank the merciful heavens above).

Maybe it wasn't so bad, she tries to reconcile with herself. Looking down at herself she's still dressed in her post-match gear (the very sexy ensemble of an over-sized tracksuit in England's colours – fellas please, control your erections) so at least she can reasonably assume she didn't strip. Which is more than comforting – she's Team Captain, she cannot have her teammates picturing her naked when she's giving them a serve if they're not pulling their weight. And judging by the stale taste in her mouth and the lack of burning throat, Rose can also somewhat safely assume that she didn't vomit. Double-yay! So things weren't so bad. Or at least they could be worse.

Look for the positives Weasley, look for the positives.

Her eyes fall to Scorpius' bare chest and she would quite literally kick herself in the ass if she were that nimble – not the positives I meant, Dipshit.

She adverts her eyes and finds herself making eye contact with Scorpius. Who totally knows she was just checking him out. He probably thinks she finds him attractive. What an arrogant ass!

(Just because she does find him attractive does not mean he's allowed to flaunt the fact that he knows it.)

"Look I've had quite enough of you standing there smirking at me while I'm stuck up here on the goddam roof-!" she spreads her arms wide and looks around her. You know, in case he'd forgotten she was up here.

Hungover Rose, you are a genuine dumbass.

Rose freezes when she spots something both heart-warming and terrifying all at once.

There, sprouting out of Scorpius' chimney like a young sapling reaching towards the sun, is her broom.

"Hermes!" Rose scurries uneasily across the cumbersome surface to where her beloved broom sticks proudly out of the chimney, "What is poor Hermes doing up here?"

Yes, Rose named her broom after the Greek God of Travellers and Speed. And she refused to think it was silly, no matter what others said. Her broom just looked like a Hermes.

"Well how did you think you got up there, Doofus?" There's something about the child-like insult that makes Rose's heart swell a little. Who called someone a doofus? Scorpius Malfoy did. And it was somehow adorable. Rose pushed it aside because really, those sought of thoughts just aren't helping anyone, and delicately removes Hermes from the chimney. He appears – thankfully – unscathed. She's midway through her thorough inspection when Scorpius' words hit home.

"Wait!" she turns towards where he still stands on his lawn, watching her serenely as he sips his coffee like he's got absolutely nothing else to do with his time (unlike Rose, who had to deal with a few minor issues including, but not exclusive to, REMOVING THE WINGED BEAST WHO HAS TAKEN UP RESIDENCE IN HER HAIR), "I flew Hermes onto your roof? Whatever was the point of that?"

Scorpius shrugs and Rose can tell he's trying incredibly hard to suppress a smile. Dick.

"I don't think you really flew him onto the roof, per se," he nods towards the patch of sky behind Rose as he smirks into his coffee, "I'd call it more of a 'crash-landing'…"

Rose spins around and sees the faint remnants of what was clearly skywriting. And apparently, she's to thank for it.

It's not the first time Rose has been known to write something in the sky with trusty old Hermes, especially during a party. Rose had got a real kick out of using her enchanted broom to write the initials of people who she knew fancied each in hearts at parties just to make them super uncomfortable. It had been one of the highlights of her younger days. Not to mention her nieces, nephews, cousins and second cousins (because for some unknown reason her family felt the need to populate the entire wizarding England single-handedly) got a real kick out of having happy birthday messages written in the sky for them.

But this is the first time, in quite possibly ever, that Rose cannot remember/decipher what she had written. Half the letters were faded, and if she was being blatantly honest with herself, the ones that were left didn't exactly display an excellent ability in penmanship (or 'broom-manship' as it were).

There is only one word that looks remotely like an actual word. And it doesn't inspire confidence that she managed to not make an ass of herself.

"Does that say…'scrotum'?" she asks, more disbelief than embarrassment at this stage.

"I think it did at one stage."

Oh hey embarrassment, welcome to the party.

She groans, "I wrote a message in the sky about someone's scrotum?"

"On the bright side you did write it at some point after 2am, so I doubt anyone really noticed or cared…" he sounded much too amused for Rose's liking. It was infuriating. Rose was embarrassed, she was sore, she was tired, and she really did not want to put up with his arrogant 'mighty-than-thou' whit right now. And she decided to tell him so.

Rose spins on her heel, hands on her hips, and manages a very loud and indignant, "Now just listen here, mister-!", before all hell starts to breaks lose.

And when she says 'all hell', she is, of course, referring to the bird in her hair.

The velocity of the spin, accompanied with the unease in which she stops herself (stupid tiles) disturbs Old Mate Feathers on top of her head and, in a fashion not dissimilar to what had occurred just minutes ago when she'd woken up, he decides to try and make a break for it by flapping wildly and pulling his talons this way and that, effectively ripping hair from Rose's head.

What transpires next happened so quickly she barely had time to think.

She lets out a loud "Arrgggarrffullsmarch!", before losing her stability entirely and sliding down the sloped rooftop, all the while All Hell The Bird is trying desperately to free itself from the cage that is Rose's wild curls, screeching what she imagines is the bird equivalent of 'unhand me you insolent human! I shall not be foiled by your abundance of tangled head-web!'. Her toe clips a slightly out of place tile and that is enough to send Rose flying forwards to slide down the roof face-first.

This is it. This is how I die. I'm going to fall off a roof with a fucking bird in my hair. In front of a shirtless Scorpius Malfoy. This will be my legacy.

Fuck you Cosmos, fuck you.

And just as the roof officially disappears from beneath her and accepts her fate, Rose gets smacked in the face with something really hard. And flat. And invisible?

Rose forces her eyes open to look under her and sees the ground. But here she is, just kind of…lying on the air.

(Meanwhile Old Mate Feathers/All Hell The Bird finally makes a break for it and goes flying towards the horizon, still squawking about his dissatisfaction with humans' inability to be good nests.)

It's too early and she's too hungover and high on adrenaline to try and comprehend what the fuck is happening, so Rose turns to the person she is sure is responsible for this mess.

Mr. 'Shirts-Are-Merely-A-Prison-For-My-Pectorals', Scorpius Malfoy.

Surprise, surprise – he's smirking.

"What?" Scorpius asks with a bemused expression, "You really think I'd let you sleep on my roof without something in place to ensure you didn't fall off? We may not be best friends, Rosie, but I'm not plotting your death."

She finds that way too endearing to be healthy – he doesn't want you dead; that is not the same as a grand declaration of love. Get a grip Weasley.

(Not that you'd want a grand declaration of love anyway. Because you don't want Scorpius Malfoy to love you.)

(Because that would be awkward. Because you don't love him.)

(At all.)

(Liar.)

Rose looks at the ground beneath her, the sheen of the barely-visible barrier now obvious. She's still too high to jump, and she has no idea how far this platform extends out, so even though she's not on the roof she's still, you know, not on the ground. And that's obviously a problem.

She looks at the man whom she is still blaming for this entire mess (his cheekbones alone hint at dark magic because nothing is that perfect without being illegally magically enhanced), and lets out an indignant huff.

"And how am I expected to get down?"

"You've a broom, don't you?"

….aaaaaand now she felt like a bigger dumbass. How dare he make her feel stupid?! What gall! If she wasn't so distracted by his stupidly shirtless body or so disastrously hungover then maybe she'd be able to think straight. It's entirely his fault really, when you thought about it.

She stands awkwardly – in a manner that is not dissimilar to a newborn foal – and sniffs the air indignantly, pointedly looking anywhere but at Scorpius Dickius and his perfect hair.

But just as Rose is about to summon Hermes from where she dropped him on the roof, All Mate Feathers decides that he wasn't quite done with his torture, and comes swooping back to express his displeasure at Rose's attempt to trap him one more forceful time.

With an almighty 'CRACAWWW!' Old Mate Feathers/Satan's Budgie swoops Rose, very narrowly missing her hair. The movement alone, however, is damaging enough.

Startled and much too sore to react properly, Rose forgets she's on a floating platform, steps back whilst swinging her arms to avoid the bird dive-bombing her head, and promptly topples off the ledge.

With (another) scream, Rose falls into the not-at-all-comfortable hedges that line Scorpius' house, and rolls back over her head onto the lawn, ass in the air and head somewhere between her knees.

Rose honestly cannot decide if this is more or less humiliating than the underwear photo. Let's just call it a draw.

She takes a moment to make sure all her limbs are accounted for and largely unharmed, and it's only after that that she hears it. The howling.

Scorpius is laughing so hysterically that he has literally collapsed onto his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. He's braced his hands on the lawn, cup of coffee dropped somewhere behind him (sacrilege!), and he is howling with laughter, taking greedy breaths of air whenever he is physically able, just so he can then start howling once more.

What a lubberwort!

(Although she's fairly sure she's never heard anything quite so lovely).

He peeks through the hair that's fallen in his face to look at her, sees her scowl at him, ass still in air and knees framing her cheekbones, and loses it all over again. Rose does her best to ignore it as she rolls to her side and does her best not to wince when she tries to stand. She's only mildly successful.

By the time she's taken the twigs out of her hair and is actually standing straight again, Scorpius has managed to pick himself off the ground and meander his way over to her. She looks up at him, still scowling, and really hates that her stomach continues to do the flip-floppy thing every time he looks at her like this.

He has teeth and can move his facial muscles in the manner required to smile, Libido, GET OVER IT.

"Oh Rosie," he breathes, tears are still in his eyes from laughing so hard – and he looks beautiful, "what am I going to do with you?"

Anything you goddamn please.

SHUT IT LIBIDO!

Scorpius wordlessly summons' Hermes, effortlessly wrapping his hand around it as it glides to him.

Rose can't be positive, but she's pretty damn sure she's never seen anything sexier.

She takes Hermes back without uttering a single syllable because quite frankly, with how her and her down-stairs fun-zone are feeling right now, she'd probably just up and proposition him to a round of bumping uglies on the lawn.

And that is bad! Because sex with teammates is bad! And you don't even like Scorpius Malfoy! You can't have sex with someone you don't even like! Right….RIGHT?!

He's still smiling and she honestly can't decide whether that or the sun is more blinding.

"You look like you need breakfast," he says, not smirking, but smiling.

Rose nods because yes, yes she does need breakfast.

"And coffee."

Rose nods so hard that she almost dislocates her head. Scorpius beams at her and nods towards his front door.

"Ok Weasley, let's cure these hangovers." How come when Rose was hungover she ended up sleeping on a roof, but when Scorpius was hungover he just got little bags under his eyes? That was all kinds of unfair. Stupid perfect ass-wipe.

Rose makes to move past him, but as soon as she raises her leg she is struck by an intense pain that shoots right across her buttock. She winces and grabs at her ass cheek before she can think better of it. Because there is no way he didn't see that. Rose glances up at him to see what she thinks may have once been concern bleed away and be replaced entirely by amusement.

He starts, "Don't tell me-"

"Fine then I won't!" she stomps past him, limping heavily because Dear Sweet Merlin her ass hurt! Stupid hedge!

He catches up to her in two graceful steps, happily indulging in the view of Rose rubbing the developing bruise on her ass.

"I could take a look at that, you know," he looks far too pleased with himself, "to make sure nothing's broken."

Don't tempt me, boy.

Rose shoves him with her shoulder and really wishes she could hate him for being so flirty. Because they don't do flirty. Because she's not even sure if they're friends, and she definitely isn't sure if their…more than that, and she's pretty sure she should be sure of at least one, if not both of those things before they can be openly flirty with each other. So she should hate him for confusing her, she just can't though. He snickers to himself and throws an arm around her shoulders (ok, since when did they do that?).

Scorpius drops his head closer to her ear and she can hear the smile in his voice, "I could even kiss it better."

That earns him an elbow to the solar plexus and at least that makes him wince.

And then he's laughing again.

And so is she.

And how dare he make her feel happy when she feels this shit?! What a dick!

Rose spends the morning eating croissants, reading The Daily Prophet, and drinking coffee across from where Scorpius Malfoy reads Quidditch Weekly, each of them reciting stats and critiquing the articles as they fight off their mutual hangovers.

It's too comfortable, it 's too natural.

And that was the moment that Rose realised she was definitely too far-gone for her own good.

I know – vagueness. Trust me, everything will make sense when you get to read Scorpius' POV, but I'm a little afraid it will ruin the ending of Rose's if you can read them both at once, so you'll just have to hang on for a moment if you're scratching your head about what exactly transpired to have Rose on the roof.

Next chapter will not be up in a matter of days, but hopefully won't take too long. I seriously cannot thank you all enough for your words and wishes.

All my love!