She is the first thing on my mind when I wake up the next morning, her ivory skin in the silvery moonlight, her red locks like fire. She is a conundrum, a paradox, the sun and the moon rise and set in her entirety in synchronism. She is the first person that comes to mind when Al asks who I was dreaming about the previous night, because, he assures me, "It's quite obvious with the bags under your eyes and the dreamy look on your face." I deny all of this. However, it baffles even the great Scorpius Malfoy that I am so affected by the (admittedly stunning) sight of my best friend in such a state of indecency. She is merely my best friend. My best friend Rose Weasley, in all her imperfections.
When she sits next to Al and across from me in the Great Hall, I can't help but glance at her. Her hair still looks pretty, but there is no moonlight. It makes no sense. I'd come to the conclusion that the only reason I thought her pretty was because I was stunned by the beauty and purity of the Heads' bathroom, despite the irony of finding a place where you bathe pretty. I'd surmised that it was solely because of this, and that the next time I saw her, I would not be affected any longer. But here I was, the first time seeing her after the incident, which I'd referred to it as in my head ever since. Her ivory skin, in the light of the Great Hall, takes on a golden hue instead of a silver one, and I cannot choose which I like better.
"Scor, you're doing it again," Al says, and for the first time since Second Year, he is wrong about the Scorpius Malfoy Show. Because for the first time since Second Year, it's not the Scorpius Malfoy show- it's the Rose Weasley show, and I hate it.
"Can you blame me?" I ask, smirking as a shamelessly praise myself, "I am pretty great."
"Isn't it one of your rules," Rosie starts, and I'm immediately catapulted into memories of Third Year. Rules. The Rules of Scorpius Malfoy. The Rules of Perfection. I'd thought them up, the lot of them, one Hogsmeade evening, and had been adding to the list ever since. "To always be in control of your emotions?" She finishes, looking up at me.
"Glad you remembered Rosie, what about it?" I ask, feeling rather confused.
"Well, need I remind you of the...incident?" She asks, and I can see a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She hopes that I will like her. I don't like disappointing her, but she's right- having control over my emotions is one of my rules, as is never falling for anyone, both would be broken in two if I ever liked her as more than a friend. But alas, her reference to the 'incident' pulls at the strings in my mind, untying ever knot, opening every door and every box that kept the memories of last night at bay, and they flood in, catching me unaware- Like a swan, she glided into the water, the silvery moonlight casting a glow over her. Her red locks seemed prettier, her star-like freckles more beautiful, her odd complexion more fair than it ever was, and of any girl I had ever seen-
"Scor, are you...blushing?" Al chokes on his bread as he asks the question. Immediately, I stare at my reflection in the silver platter on the table. There are two red splotches adorning my cheeks, maring my features and causing me to look like a tomato. Now I'm the one who might be showing early signs of Rosacea. And what, because I saw my best friend undressed?
"No!" I say, and upon realizing it's a little loud as every student in a 5-foot radius turns to look at me, I continue in a quieter voice, "I-I mean, huh, isn't it a little hot in here?" I'd stuttered. Yet another flaw I did not previously have.
"You are!" Al grins, "Are you thinking about that girl from your dreams?" Oh no.
"ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER!" I shriek, pushing myself up from the table and causing several plates on it to clatter and rattle slightly, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" My face is probably tomato red by now, I don't want to look down at the silver platter because once I see myself in such a state, I will never be able to get rid of the image. It'll haunt me the rest of my flawed years.
"And it's the downfall of the oh-so-perfect Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!" Al cracks a grin, clapping and laughing, "So, Scor, who is she?"
"Shut up!" I say again, avoiding Rosie's eyes- she obviously knows, but I don't want to look at her. It would only confirm my (non-existent) flaws. I could get over this hurdle, this obstacle in my way. This was simply a test of my perfection, my superiority, was it not? To see if I would be pulled down from my pedestal by a thing as barbarian as lust. I would prosper, despite temptation.
"C'mon Scor," Al whines. He sounds like a child, another thing I cannot stand about him. He's ridiculously immature and petulant at times, and I'm sure it would drive any sane person up the wall.
"I think you should tell him," Rosie says nonchalantly, "Best if he knows now, as oppose to hearing about it later, because one of us is bound to slip up at one point." One of us, meaning her. The inability to keep secrets is a major flaw, not on mine part of course.
"If you say so Rosie," I clear my throat, and begin speaking quite diplomatically, "Al, I do not like anyone. Last night Rose merely did not hear me knock, and so I was not aware that Rose was in the bathroom when I walked in, and so-"
"That's my cousin you ninny! You like my cousin!" Al barks, red anger overcoming his face.
"No, I do not like your cousin, I just merely...walked in on her accidentally." I fold my hands on the table, rolling my eyes at his incompetence.
"Did you apologize?" Al asks, then pauses, laughing, "I forget who I'm talking to, of course you didn't apologize- apologizing means you had something to be sorry for, which means being wrong, and you're never wrong." His last words are quite obviously sarcastic, but I let him slide. I'm about to retort that of course I'm always right and I shouldn't have to apologize for her mistake when Rose speaks instead.
"Actually Al, he said sorry- twice," She turns to me and smiles, her blue eyes lighting up like the ocean's surface under the sun's rays. I find myself dumbstruck for a few seconds before realizing that this is the temptation I have to resist, and so I do. Then, I realize what she's just said- that I'd apoligized. I hadn't apologized. Had I? I thought back to the previous night. I had. Just as she relayed, I'd said sorry twice. Twice. Al was right, it was one of my rules- never apologize for something as it means you were wrong and want to be repentant for it.
"You apologized?" Al asks, looking at me as if I had just said I'd subscribed to Teen Witch. Frankly, I'd be less surprised myself if it had been the latter.
"Yes," I say, easily coming up with an excuse, "Even though it was Rose's fault for not hearing me knock, it was still the gentlemanly thing to do in such a situation."
"I suppose so," Al glances down at the table, "Okay, you're forgiven, but no funny business, got it?"
"Funny business? Al, don't think so poorly of me, I know better than that." I scoff, brushing off an imaginary piece of dust off my dress shirt for effect, "Really Al, it makes me shudder to even think of that!" With that, it's forgotten. Al and Rosie go back to their own normal moods, and our chatter is directed away from "the incident." Everything is perfect once more, just the way it should be, and just the way I liked it.
It being our Seventh year, we were prepping for OWLS which had to be taken at the very end of the school year. In other words, we were reviewing what we'd learned for those who weren't as smart and didn't retain as much as certain others, namely, me. I had gotten O's in all of my classes since First Year, and had never gotten a detention or even merely a warning once. It was something I was proud of, the inability to focus was yet another flaw I didn't have. I walked into potions with Al by my side, settling down in our usual spot. It was alphabetical seating, so unfortunately for Rosie, whose last name began with a W to my M and Al's P, she was quite a ways away from us. The seats looped like a snake, starting with A's and ending with Z's. Al and I were somewhere in the middle alphabetically, but due to the minimal number of fellow students with names starting with A-L, we were in the back of the room, only in the second row, as opposed to Rosie who was seated in the front of the room, the very last row in the room. I placed my Potions book on my desk, flipping it open to the instructed page on the board. Babbling Beverage. We'd long since learned how to make that. Mince 4 legs of an average house spider, Crush 7 Asphodel flowers, add the eye of an eel, and chop 12 leaves of Dittany. Stir two times clockwise, and be sure not to add too much Dittany or else it'll release a potent gas that could potentially knock you out. It's side effects are very similar to that of Amortentia, but does not induce obsession. I remembered it by heart. As Al jokingly waved the jar of spider legs in the air as I got the ingredients sorted I cast a glance over to Rosie, who was paired with the muggle born Amelia Womball. Womball wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so Rosie took over the work. She was doing an excellent job really, and unlike Al, hadn't managed to get anything on her hands. Was it possible for someone to look that pretty while making a potion in class? She stuck her tongue out as she worked, a flaw of hers, which I found oddly cute. Her hands worked rapidly, mincing the spider legs as if she were a professional. Her nose was scrunched up like she always does when she's concentrating, but her eyes lit up because she was the type that loved to learn.
"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!" Al waved his hand in front of my face, "If you add one more thing of Dittany, we're both going to be out cold!"
"What?" I said, looking down at my hands. There were 4 leaves of Dittany left out of the 20, which meant I'd put in 16 instead of 12, "Al…there's only 4 left."
"What?!" Al shrieked, gaining the attention of the entire room. He grasped the rim of the cauldron on both sides, tipping it towards us slightly, "But there's no-" He promptly dropped to the ground like a rock. I swept my gaze from Al to the foggy gas. It smelled sweet, like Al's grandma's chocolate chip cookies, fresh cut grass on a good Quidditch day, and Rosie's vanilla perfume- I wilted to the floor.
"Mate would you get off of me?!" Al asked, "Why the heck were you out so long?" What? Why was I on him?
"What?" I asked blearily, "What happened?" The last thing I remembered was putting Dittany in the potion...
"Too much Dittany!" Professor Cromwell loomed over us, "Mr. Potter, you best not start the year like this!" Whoops, should I tell her it was me and not Albus? Nah...
"Actually," Al said, "Not to throw him under the bus or anything, but Scor here was the one putting in the Dittany." Thanks Al, way to not cover for me.
"Mr. Malfoy, what happened?" Professor Cromwell looked surprised, and honestly, I was too.
"Uh…" I couldn't get out of this one, could I? "I-I was distracted…" I say sheepishly, already feeling my face burning.
"Are you feeling alright Mr. Malfoy? You're burning up." Professor Cromwell asked, concernedly. I was fine- a little embarrassed, mortified, and humiliated, but fine.
"I'll kill you!" Al shrieks, smacking the back of my head, "She's my cousin! You do not get to like her!" Why did he have to keep bringing it up?
"I don't!" I retort, shoving him off of me, "Would you cut it out with that?"
"You're showing all the signs!" Al waved his hands dramatically, "It's obvious!"
"It's obvious that you're an idiot." I mutter under my breath before standing up and dusting off my pants, grinning, "Now, now, Al. You know very well that sucumming to feelings is a flaw I lack. I do not fancy her cousin like such. She is merely my best friend."
"Yeah right!" Al says, and I glare at him because he can't get it through his thick head that his cousin, although pretty, is not for me. I was Scorpius Malfoy, and I would only be with someone as perfect as I was. And that, that was not Rose Weasley.