A/N: I said this would be up sooner, sorry for it being late. Enjoy!

Rose POV

It's wrong.

Again.

I've spent four months working on the formula for this potion, substituting Erupent tail for dandelion root, adjusting the boiling times appropriately and the preparation methods for the other ingredients. I was so sure it would work.

Merlin, I told Uncle George I can do this and I will. I have been trying to devise a potion of infinite properties. It would literally be able to do anything. George said if we could control how extreme the effects of the potion are then he could use it for a whole list of new merchandise. The idea was brilliant and I had been trying for the last year to make it work.

If I succeed, I would go down in history – more than just a child of famous parents.

This could be a break-through but I keep fucking it up.

I throw the vial at the wall, infuriated. Unable to contain my rage, I scream at the empty room and a stack of chairs vibrate vigorously and tumble over.

"This is such utter bullshit!"

This is the problem with Slytherins – it's our fierce ambition and determination which make us so lethal. We go to extreme lengths to ensure we succeed, leading to many wizards and witches turning to the Dark Arts to ensure success. I would never, though. I'm not that stupid.

I extinguish the fires under my cauldrons and decide to call it quits for the day. I'm using a spare Potions room that Professor Slughorn allowed me access to. He knows I'm a budding Potions master and wishes to 'add kindling to the fires of my passion'. Whatever, I get free lab space.

As I leave the room, I flick my wrist over my shoulder, locking the room. No one knows I brew down here, not even my cousins. I'm fuming as I stand in the doorway, losing the will to live.

A whole year wasted.

I turn as if to head in the direction of my dorm, bag strung over my shoulder, when I see the one and only Scorpius Malfoy. Why is he down here? There's nothing here but dusty rooms.

Glancing around, I notice that he is alone. Despite my frustration I smile at him, thankful for the distraction. At least there is something I can succeed at with ease.

He's frowning at me, surprised. "Are you okay?"

"I'm wonderful," I purr as I move towards him and, cupping his face, put my lips to his. He tenses then quickly kisses me back. Pulling back, I smirk when I see his face is flushed. "What are you doing down here?"

He smiles, a little dazed, "I'm looking for you actually."

I step away from him.

"Why?"

His smiles drops.

"Slughorn told me you have a Potions room set up down here. He said I can use it to practice for NEWTs."

I'm very aware I'm just staring at him, frowning a little. "Oh," is all I can manage.

Normally, I would refuse. I'm the only one of my cousins with such a passion for Potions – only my mum seems to get it. I won't deny I've considered a career in it after Hogwarts. You take a bunch of often simple ingredients and with the right care, preparation and treatment you can make anything. It's an art to which there is a correct and incorrect answer. Nothing is more perfect my eyes.

My work is very delicate. I need to know I can't be disturbed or judged. But I'm considering Malfoy being set up across the room from me, his forehead creased in frustration, biting his lip like he does when he's totally concentrating. I can imagine borrowing his ingredients, maybe letting him browse my collection of brewed goods.

Part of me is horrified, hissing at the thought. The other part… intrigued. Perhaps it's because we're both Slytherins and natives to the Dungeons, the home of Potions in Hogwarts. I get the sense that he would understand my passion and this shocks me to a degree.

Plus, I know Slughorn told Malfoy he could use my room and it isn't like I can refuse. Slughorn is the head of Slytherin after all.

Malfoy stares at me then sighs. "You know what, forget it. I'll use the classrooms when they're free-"

I cut him off, my voice uncertain.

"No, it's okay. You can use my room." He frowns but has the sense to not ask if I'm sure.

I flick my wand, saying clearly "Wolfsbane." The door opens slowly and I step aside.

"Thanks," he murmurs, walking past me.

I follow, saying, "The password never changes but I can change that. If you want."

"Whatever you want," he murmurs but his voice is distracted and I realise he's looking at the mess I made. I curse.

"I forgot about that. Sorry…" I wave my wand a few times, righting the chairs and cleaning the mess. He gives me a sideways look but doesn't ask. As he begins to set up some tables on the other side of the room, I lean against my desk, feeling awkward.

"So, you're a fan of Potions then?" I ask.

He smiles slightly, not looking at me but his voice is happy.

"I find it fascinating. Always have. You know, this one time when I was, maybe, fourteen? I brewed a batch of Veritaserum in my mother's greenhouse. When she found out she…" He frowns to himself then glances at me nervously, "Well, my parents weren't happy. The Ministry frowns on brewing it after all and my parents freak about underage magic. But it was so much fun."

I sense he's uncomfortable telling me about his experiences and I can't help but wonder why he's telling me altogether then. It's obvious that his parents would be so uptight about obeying the Ministry considering his family's history.

"I'm impressed." Truthfully, I am. I remember the first time I made some Veritaserum; I used to walk around with it in my bag, just knowing I had it and could use it. I never did, of course.

He shrugs. "Yeah. What kind of stuff do you brew down here?"

I want to reply 'Nothing special' or something akin to that but instead I say, "I devise my own".

I feel like slapping myself. His eyes go wide.

"That's so dangerous." I shrug this time, embarrassed. He grins and continues, "But really cool." I find myself grinning back.

"It's a secret though," I say quietly, putting a finger to my lips. He nods and his eyes go dark, his voice low.

"We have a lot of secrets," he says suggestively and I smirk.

"You haven't told anyone about us then?"

"Of course not."

"Good," I purr. He approaches me slowly, his eyes on mine.

"I really liked kissing you." His voice is husky.

"More than watching me?"

He growls slightly as he replies, "Much more." I feel a thrill shoot through me at the hunger in his eyes. "I'm the only one you're kissing?" he asks.

I hesitate, wanting to be offended. But he did see me snogging another guy so I have to give it to him.

"Of course, Scorpius. The Hufflepuff you saw me with was just a means to an end. I haven't seen him since."

"Good." His possessiveness turns my legs to jelly. He pauses, his feet millimetres from mine, "Wait, that guy was a Hufflepuff? Damn, I feel insulted." I laugh one short note.

"Why?"

"You liked us both. I thought I was part of a higher standard than that of a Hufflepuff." His voice is playful. I raise a brow at him.

"Hufflepuffs are considerate lovers." His eyes darken again and he takes me by the waist, pushing the air from my lungs.

"You like considerate then?"

I bit my lip and he growls, leaning forward and taking it in his own teeth, his eyes pouring into mine. I push my hands into his hair and kiss him sinfully. He opens his mouth for me immediately and I stroke his tongue with my own, my hands travelling down his neck to his chest. I feel a heat blaze up inside of me as I feel his tiny gasps when I stroke down his abdomen, my hands circling round his hips and landing on his rear, which I squeeze lightly. His eyes fly open, surprised and I push his rear into my hips, hearing him moan. He's already aroused – I can feel it against my hip bone.

Grinning into his mouth, I reach down and stroke him through his robes. He chokes, surprised, but doesn't complain. I can feel that he is very thick and thrills jolt up down my spine. I want to see him properly and in a moment of impulsive need, I undo the top button of his pants.

He pulls back, his eyes intrigued but nervous. I raise an eyebrow, daring him to question me but he wisely shuts his mouth. I slowly pull his zipper down, torturously slow, and watch a flush decorate his face as I do so. I pull his pants open and his erection springs out against his underwear.

He's nervous but staring at me intently, his eyes dark with arousal. In one smooth pull, I reveal his cock. It's dark against his pale skin, the head large and round. Settled in a pool of hair just as silver as that on his head, it looks simply delicious. I sit on the table I've been leaning against so I'm on the same level as his erection.

I trail a finger down his shaft and his eyes flutter shut for a moment. I wonder how longs it's been since he's been touched by a woman. In a swift move, I dart my tongue out and retrace my steps back up the length of him. He moans low in his throat and his cock twitches. I flick my tongue back and forth over his sensitive head, taking it into my mouth suddenly.

His head flies back, his hands gripping my shoulders as I engulf his shaft as far as I can.

"Rose…" He doesn't continue so I begin moving up and down his member, my tongue lazily flicking out and hitting the sensitive spot under the head of the penis as I go. Scorpius' grip on me tight as he is lost in the sensations. I feel heat pool in my stomach.

I enjoy pleasing him as he moans softly. Moving agonising slow, I feel his cock get harder in my mouth. In a quick change of pace, I begin moving rapidly, my fingers finding his sack and stroking it slowly, paying attention to the sensitive underside. He chokes on a moan, his eyes finding mine, wide and desperate.

I move him deeper into my throat so I'm sucking his whole length and he begins to move with me, seemingly unaware he is doing so. I feel his cock twitch and his hand grabs my hair. Freezing, I release him with a pop and he looks down, disappointed. Purposefully, I take his hand off of my head and put in back by his side. He blushes and goes to apologise but I engulf him again and he swallows his words.

The pace is getting faster now and I know he's getting close. It really must have been a while. When he pushes deeper into my mouth, needy, I slow down again. Pushing his rear, I ensure he hits the back of my throat and I pull him out to lick his tip. I repeat this until he's desperate.

"Rose."

I get a thrill at hearing him say my name in such a frustrated voice. I grin around him and quicken again, still ensuring I move along his entire length. His breathing is quick, his voice husky.

"Oh," he moans, "Rose, I'm getting close…"

I continue, as if I haven't heard him.

"Rose! I'm going to –ah! - I can't – Rose!"

He thrusts deep into my mouth when he groans my name. I feel his cock twitch against my tongue and he panics, trying to pull out but I hold him deep in my mouth by his ass. His eyes are shut, his head back and his mouth makes a small 'O'. I can't feel his release in my mouth but I can taste the saltiness.

As his orgasm ends, I release him and he pulls out quickly, his face flushed with satisfaction but I can see the panic in his eyes. I swallow quickly and wipe my mouth.

"I-" He swallows, "I didn't know if it was okay for me to-"

"Cum in my mouth?" He flushes again but I can see the arousal in his eyes. I grin, "I don't have a problem with it."

He smiles, putting himself away and reaches out for me. As I'm pulled up into his arms, he nuzzles into my neck, breathing deeply and then kissing it softly.

"Merlin, you're amazing," He breathes into my ear.

I feel torn by his tenderness. A part of me loves it – the attention, the adoration. Another part of me is panicking, uncomfortable. He continues to kiss my neck, darting his tongue out as he does so, caressing my skin. I feel the heat rise up in me again. My neck is my weakness.

The dark side of me wins out and I pull away from him, my eyes flirty but it's forced.

"I know, gorgeous. We should do that again soon." It's rushed when I say it.

I dart down, grab my bag and rush past him. He grabs my arm, giving me goose bumps. I turn to look back at him to see confusion, frustration and hurt.

"Rose…" he begins but the words get stuck. I decide to not pull away from him and he continues, his voice low, "Let me please you."

The way it rolls off of his tongue, I have half a mind to stay. But once again, I decide leaving is best.

"Maybe next time." I wink, pull out of his hold and am gone.

I know I probably hurt his feelings but that's the beauty of my relationships with men. I keep them at arm's length until I need them and then I help them explore their needs, fantasies and sensuality.

That's all I want - that's all the majority of me wants.

A part of me whispers that it's ready to try again and have a real relationship but… I'm scared. Angry at myself for admitting it, I shrug my bag further up my shoulder and tell that part of myself to shut the fuck up.

A/N: Okay guys, I want some serious constructive criticism. Honestly tell me where I go wrong – the characterisation, the realism, the dialogue, description – anything. But I will emphasise CONSTRUCTIVE – we all love to bitch and moan but I'd appreciate useful stuff ;) Thanks!