A/N: Welcome back! I am completely floored that so many people have taken the time to read and review and favorite and follow my first story. I really, really appreciate it. Feel free to let me know what you like and don't like about the story so far. Just remember that I do have feelings, so don't be overly cruel. Anyways, without further ado here's Chapter Two.
Chapter Two: This Year Has Taken Quite the Interesting Turn
The rest of the train ride had passed in a daze. I had made my way back to the car and no one had thought my prolonged absence was amiss. The rest of the gang chattered on excitedly about the upcoming quidditch year and how awful preparing for N.E.W.T.s was going to be, but I couldn't shake the feeling of confusion and disbelief as is if someone had placed a mind muddling charm on me. I had even tried to immerse myself in my writing, but I found myself at an utter block when it came to my story, which was quite unlike me. I soon gave up and resumed my window gazing. Thankfully, this was quite like me. I'm usually seen as daydreaming and aloof, so my cousins were not at all aware of the strange tumbling feeling in my belly. Damn that, Malfoy.
Dinner in The Great Hall was enough to shake me from my trance. Meeting old friends I had been missing over break and talking about their summers is a great cure for whatever my encounter with Scorpius had done to me. My heaping plate of mashed potatoes, roast quail, and glazed carrots also probably factors in.
Headmaster McGonagall stands to make a speech about the upcoming year, introduces professors new and old, has the prefects stand for an ovation, which I awkwardly curtsy for when my name is called. I tend to act a little funny when I have too much attention on me. Which is precisely why I write my Mora Munroe column secretly. McGonagall waits for the hall to fall into a somewhat hushed state. She clasps her frail, wrinkled hands before continuing her announcements.
"I am very pleased to introduce these next two students as your Head Boy and Head Girl: Albus Severus Potter of Slytherin and Sally Rowena Sparrow of Ravenclaw. Give these two students a big hand as the choice was a very difficult one."
I jump up off the bench and almost fall over Freddy, who is seated next to me. I'm clapping and cheering and hollering Alby's name. The entire Potter-Weasley clan is in an uproar in their conspicuous pride of their cousin. I knew he was a shoe-in for Head boy. Albus stands and gives a little wave. He's not keen on mass attention either. That was always more of his brother James' position. McGonagall then clears her throat trying to restore order.
"Ahem, if you'd all rein in your excitement, we could move on with the sorting. First years, please come forward."
Later in the Gryffindor Common room, I'm curled up in my favorite overstuffed chair by the fire in flannel pajama pants and an old Holyhead Harpies t-shirt with Most Potente Potions open in my lap. I couldn't be more content if I tried, and I'm very aware of how much I am rocking the Granger stereotype at the moment. Classes haven't even started and I'm already studying.
"I can definitely see why your patronus is a cat. You look just like one at the moment," Roxxie jokes as she falls into a heap at my feet. She's still in her robes. She must have gotten stuck showing the first years to their dorms.
"If I was ever to master my animagus I would definitely be a cat. That sounds blissful actually," I yawn and stretch further proving Roxxie right. My eyelids are getting surprisingly droopy for it only being a tad past ten.
"So I noticed something particularly odd at dinner tonight. If I'm right and I know I am, Scorpius Malfoy could not take his eyes off of you," she smiles mischievously.
I sit up faster and straighter than I ever have and dump my textbook unceremoniously to the floor. "He was doing what now?" I sound breathless, guilty almost.
"Well, well. This just got more and more interesting. I knew there had to be some kind of story there, with you touching your lips the whole train ride. You should really try to hide when you've been snogging much better from me. I always know and don't you forget it. Now spill. I want to know everything." She eyes me hopefully. I'm not sure when Roxxie turned into a muggle teen movie stereotype, but this seems as good a time as any to tell her.
"Okay. I'll tell, but this is definitely a conversation made for the Order of the Four Poster," I agreed leaning over to collect my book. "And silencing charms are a must, and you have to promise on your life you won't breathe a word of this to anyone."
She crosses her heart and holds up four fingers, our old vow of secrecy. "If you're holding this in your bed than this must be quite juicy. Oh, I'm so excited." She jumps up and down clapping her hands like a child in a candy store.
I groan internally. I had hoped I could have taken this whole thing to my grave. I should have known that that would have been impossible with my family. I lead her to our dorm room and retell the whole thing, only leaving out how Malfoy happens to be the best kisser I've ever experienced. I finish the story with a sigh and wait on baited breath for Roxxie to say something, anything. She has stayed uncharacteristically silent through the entire thing.
She nibbles on her bottom lip and nods her head. "I don't know why you're so bummed out over the whole thing, kid. It was just a kiss, an incredibly hot kiss by any measure. It's not like it means anything either. You know how boys and their hormones are. Well only last year I was running off with McLaggen any chance I got to shag in some broom closet or the astronomy tower, and I didn't even like him all that much. He was in no way interesting at all. He was just a good shag. So don't sweat it, babes. Hey, the memory could be useful for later," she winks and waggles her fingers at me.
"Oh, Merlin, no," I laugh and push her off my bed. "This Order of the Four Poster meeting is officially over."
Roxxie picks herself up off of the floor, laughing. She walks over to her wardrobe stripping out of her uniform. "Oh, honey. It's not over until the virgin climaxes."
"I'm not even a virgin," I say giggling as I throw my pillow at her head. She gracefully dodges my feathery missile of choice and slips into a nightie
"I forgot about your four minutes with Lysander Scamander. I'm sure it was quite the beautifully awkward memory, but in all honesty, it doesn't really count," she slithers into bed and props her head up on her dainty, manicured hand, smiling cattily.
I blush at the memory. It wasn't the worst way to lose your virginity, but it's definitely not a memory I look back on proudly. It was awkward, and fumbling, and unpleasant feeling. I still can't keep a straight face in the owlery because of it, but from what I've heard and read that's pretty universal as first times go.
"It counts. It happened. Lysander and I may have only dated for five months, but I've known him my whole life. He made me feel safe, and he was very gentle," I say defensively.
Roxxie blows her bangs out of her face, exasperated. "Safe is boring. You want fire and passion, much like your novels you read and your stories you write. You want to feel like your every nerve is abuzz with electricity. As if your body is vibrating. Merlin, I need to get laid as soon as possible. All this talk has made me positively randy. Wait, have you even came before," she asks.
I swallow, not really wanting to admit the answer. "Well, no. Lysander seemed to finish rather quickly and was quite spent since it was his first time too."
"So you're telling me you've never even had an orgasm by yourself?" Her jaw is slack in disbelief.
"No." My head shakes sadly. "I just feel so awkward with my fingers sliding around in there, and even with silencing charms I'm so afraid of getting caught and having to explain myself. I just feel so awkward."
Roxxie laughs out loud. "You're afraid of masturbating, yet you can write what you write. Oh, Rose, my dear, dear cousin. I'm afraid you're missing out on a very terrific and mind-blowing part of life. And on that note I'm going off to sleep. Classes start tomorrow and I'm going to have to keep my strength up if I'm going to replace McLaggen. Goodnight, Rosie."
She rolls over and not even five minutes later, I can hear her snoring softly. I try to do the same, but I can't seem to shake what she said about fire and passion. My mind wanders back to the kiss with Scorpius. That most definitely counts as fiery and passionate, as much as I hate to admit. I lay there wracking my brain for any other moment that even rivals that one, and I honestly can't think of another romantic instance in my life that could live up to the one I shared with Scorpius.
With a sigh, I roll over and bury my face in my pillows, chastising myself for even allowing my brain to even think such things. I have a vow to uphold after all, and I wasn't going to let some silly kiss get in the way of that.
The next morning, I awaken early. I'm twisted in my sheets and my skin has a sweaty sheen to it. I'm panting, as well. The dream comes back like a vivid memory. I'm running down a corridor. No, I'm running with someone down a corridor. We duck behind a tall sconce and exchange a loving, passionate kiss. I open my eyes to see who this wonderful creature is, but when I look up we're running again. Suddenly, we stop at two great, stone doors and slip inside. The doors close and we're kissing again. This time we're becoming more frenzied and fiery. My nerves are alive and singing at the sensation. We tumble into bed, not caring to part from each other. We tumble in the sheets. Our hands exploring each other freely. Finally, coming up for air, I catch his silver-grey eyes. They're roaming across my face and chest, as if they're looking for the perfect place to kiss next. His white blond hair tickles my cheeks and forehead. His lips descend on my neck and I moan out his name, "Scorpius." And then all goes black.
Okay, subconscious. That is quite enough out of you for the entirety of this year. This is the second dream in two days of this kind and with that boy, no less. Of all the people I could be having saucy dreams about, it has to be him.
I sigh and swing my legs out of bed. My muggle alarm clock shines brightly in the darkness: 5:45 AM. No one is even stirring in the dorm room at this hour. I cast a soft Lumos with a twirl of my wand and decide it's as good as time as any to start getting ready. I discard my night clothes in the hamper, reaching for a white blouse and uniform skirt. I'm just about to pull my grey cotton knee highs on, when I spot my garter belt and thigh highs my Aunt Fleur had given to me for my birthday, hanging out of my trunk. It is a new year. Maybe it is time to shake a few things up. Hell, they might even make me look a little taller. Before I can question it anymore, I slide them on under my skirt and hook them in place. I knot my tie and throw on my robe, grabbing my leather satchel on the way out of the door.
The castle is eerie at this time. All the portraits are still snoozing in their frames and there's not a soul wandering the halls. I make my way quickly to the Great Hall, hoping there's someone there to ease my flustered thoughts.
Today must not be lucky day. The hall is only littered here and there with anxious first and second years too nervous to sleep and a few early birds that I'm not too acquainted with. I start to make my way to Gryffindor table, fully prepared to sit alone and read while I drink my tea and nibble on some toast, when I notice the boy who spent all last night running through my dreams. Scorpius is sitting alone at the Slytherin table, lazily stirring his tea and flipping through a newspaper. He looks so regal, yet relaxed. Two things that shouldn't be pulled off together, he makes it appear effortless. And before I even know what's come over me, I find myself striding over to his table. I take a place directly across from him. I shift uncomfortably, waiting for him to notice my presence, but it's as if I'm wearing an invisibility cloak or something. He never even looks up from his paper.
I clear my throat softly. "Morning, Malfoy," I say, trying to sound as casual as possible.
He drops his spoon, shocked. "Well, Weasley, if I had known you'd be transferring into Slytherin, I would have hightailed it to Ravenclaw."
"Haha. Aren't you ever the charmer." I roll my eyes slightly. I guess things haven't changed between us then.
"No, really. Rose, what are you doing over here," he asks in all seriousness.
"You, know. I don't quite have an answer for that myself," I answer honestly. I tap my teacup with my wand and steaming hot tea starts to fill it. I add milk and sugar and sip it gingerly. "I must have been drawn by your animal magnetism."
He laughs and actually dribbles a spot of tea down his front. He dabs at his sweater with a napkin. "You know, I don't think I've ever actually heard you make a joke, Red. You're actually quite funny when you're not trying to be a know-it-all bitch," he smirks, a small dimple forming on the left side of his mouth.
"I am not a know-it-all bitch!" I slam my cup down on the oaken table, causing a great clattering sound. The already hushed hall silences at my sudden outburst. I sink lower on the bench seat, attempting to make myself smaller than I already am.
Scorpius lets out a loud chuckle which dissolves the silence. "I was only joking, Rose. I quite like when you act like a know-it-all bitch, just not so much when it's aimed at me."
My blood boils and my silver tongue is poised to attack. I'll show him how much of a bitch I can be. I open my mouth to begin the assault when he pushes a plate towards me.
"Croissant?" He's smiling, like a goofy bright-eyed puppy. In all the years I've known him I don't think I've ever witnessed him look so youthful and normal. It's shocking.
I reach out to take one at the same time he tries to hand me the croissant. Our hands brush and a zing of electricity zips up my entire arm, making me shudder. Our eyes are locked, neither of us saying a word.
We're just staring at each other, our hands outstretched, when Albus walks up and plops down beside Scorpius, yawning. His arrival shakes us out of our trance, and Scorpius drops the roll into my hand.
"Morning, Scorpius. Oh. Hello, Rose. Funny seeing you here," Albus says sluggishly.
"I said the same thing when she came strolling over," Scorpius mumbles, his eyes boring into his teacup. He won't even glance in my direction again.
"Well, whatever brought you here, I'm glad to have you. If you'll excuse me though, I need to stuff my face if I'm going to make it through the day," divulges Albus.
"That's alright, Albus. You enjoy your breakfast. I was just going." I hop up and sling my bag over my shoulder. "I'll save you a seat in Charms, cousin." With a last fleeting glance at Scorpius, who is still engrossed in his cup, I turn on my heel and exit the Great Hall. Bloody hell, what's gotten into him?
The morning passes quickly and before I know it, I'm walking arm in arm with Roxxie and Freddy to Charms. We chat about our classes and trade gossip we've picked up here and there like how Amber Parkinson, supposedly, is pregnant and won't be returning to school this year and how Moaning Myrtle caught two fifth year Hufflepuffs in one of the toilets having a go before class. There's no telling if any of these rumors are ever true around here. I think the house elves like to make them up and have them spread like wildfire for their own amusement.
We walk into the classroom and break apart to find our respective desks. I take a seat next to Albus, who surprisingly has made it before me. He gives me a sheepish grin. I poke my tongue out at him in response and busy myself with preparing for class.
All of a sudden Albus grips my arm tightly, pointing and stuttering at some leggy blonde that just entered the room.
"Ow, Alby. Loosen up, will you? You're leaving bruises." I try to shake my arm out of his vise-like grip.
"Who is that beautiful veela-like goddess?" He's practically drooling. His eyes are painted with stars and he looks like he wouldn't even care if a Hippogriff walked into this room right this very moment and chose to sit on him.
"I'll tell you what I know if you'll let go of me," I say in a sing-song voice.
His hand flies away immediately. His entire body stands at attention, craving any information I have for him. "Tell me everything you know!"
"All I know is she's a Beauxbatons transfer and a Ravenclaw. And her name is either Keelie or Katy, I can't remember which."
"Oh look, she's sitting by herself. I should go other there and introduce myself and make her feel welcome. You don't mind, do you?" Before I can even open my mouth to reply, he's gathered his things and is sliding into the seat next to the new transfer.
I forcefully cradle my chin in my hands, peering around the room for a comrade of any kind. All the tables are full and everyone is engrossed in conversations with their neighbor. I'm the only one with an open seat. Oh well, more room for my books I suppose. I'm just about to place my satchel in the chair beside me when Scorpius comes strolling in, just about late as usual.
He glances about the room, looking for a place to sit. We lock eyes as he notices the empty chair beside me and smirks. Merlin, I'd really like to hex that look right off of his face.
"Mind if I claim this seat? Of course you don't, Red." He sprawls in the chair, still smirking. He pulls his parchment and quill from his bag as Professor Xandra glides into the room. I've always admire her easy grace and her mastery of her wand. She's made everything look like cake since first year.
"Okay, everyone. Eyes front. We have a lot to discuss and only an hour and a half to do so," Xandra calls the class to attention. "First off, welcome back. I'm so pleased you've all decided to continue Charms in your N.E.W.T. level studies. This is going to be a very tough and demanding year, but it will be very rewarding, I'm sure. Secondly, I have decided that this year, since you all are such a talented bunch of witches and wizards, we are going to be starting a year long project. A project where, with the aid of a partner, you will create your very own spell. The most successful and useful spells will be demonstrated to the ministry and be published in spellbooks to come. And to shake things up a bit, your partner will be the student you are sharing a table with. No exceptions."
My blood turns cold as I realize that means if I wish to succeed with this assignment I will have to spend a lot more time than I'm capable of with Malfoy. I slyly look at him out of the corner of my eye. He appears to be pleased with himself as his smirk has somehow become smirkier. Oh, Professor, what have I done to be cursed with such a little ferret?
Scorpius leans over and whispers in my ear. "Well, well, Weasley. It seems we are going to be getting to know each other much better this term. I positively can't wait."
Involuntarily, a shiver travels down my spine. Flashes of last night's dream dance across my eyelids. I shrug away from his closeness. My hair curtains around me, hiding the deep blush I'm sure is there, as I try to refocus on Professor Xandra's lesson. I hear Scorpius give a low chuckle. I'm not yours to laugh at, you stupid git.
The class seems to drag on even though I'm entirely engrossed in the lecture. Xandra comes to a close and dismisses the class. I'm in such a rush to get away from Malfoy that my bag catches on the leg of the chair and it's contents spill everywhere. I just stare up at ceiling, silently asking Merlin what else could go wrong with today. I kneel down and collect rolls of parchment, quills, and inkpots. I look up and notice Scorpius is also trying to retrieve the scattered items. He's being polite again, weird. He picks up my leather-bound journal which contain my Mora Munroe stories. My eyes widen until they feel like they're about to pop out of my skull. I just pray that he doesn't open it. He's smirking again. Why is he smirking again?
"Rose, you interest me more and more," he chuckles. I follow his line of sight and notice his eyes are glued to my thighs. My skirt has ridden up while I've been crawling around on the floor. My garter belt and stockings are now very much visible. I quickly wrench my skirt back in place. "I had no idea you were the type of women to wear such scandalous underwear. That's incredibly sexy."
"They're just tights," I say, snatching my journal from his hands. "You don't have to make it sound so dirty. It's not like I'm the first girl you've ever seen in thigh highs," I mumble.
"As girls go, you are the first in tights like those." He stands up to his full height, towering over me. He hangs my bag on my shoulder. "I quite like it. Some man will be particularly happy to see you in those and nothing else one day." His smirk returns to his face.
I flush a terrible shade of magenta. How dare he talk to me like that and with all these people walking by? Who does he think he is? "Well, we both know that that man will never be you. So stop staring at me like it will be."
He shrugs, laughing and turns to leave.
"Scorpius, wait," I call. Running, I close the gap between us, not wanting to be overheard. "Why did you kiss me yesterday, on the train?"
His smirk turns into a boyish grin. "Because your lips told me to."
I wrinkle my nose in response. What does that even mean? Again, I'm speechless in his presence. What about my lips would even give him that idea? My fingers find their way to my lips without my brain's help.
Scorpius chuckles at my awkward reaction and taps my nose. "See you around, Rose." And he disappears into the throng of students. That is one strange, confusing boy.