AN1: Yes, this is a Rose/Scorpius WIP being posted simultaneously with another, different headcanon Rose/Scorpius story. Sorry. I know that's incredibly rude and mean of me, but reveals went up at swrm_ficafest, so I thought I should post this here. Also, this is what took up a decent amount of that six month hiatus in Tending Roses. Fair warning, though, if you read this piece at the fest first - I ran the clock out on the deadline, and I wasn't entirely pleased with the LJ version, so I'll be making some edits to certain chapters as this is posted over here. Section four is one of those sections.

AN2: This was written for the 2012 smrw_ficafest over on LiveJournal, and for the second year in a row, my submission was voted one of the most popular submissions. I'm incredibly flattered by this, as I am by all the praise and support I get from all my lovely readers. You all are amazing, and I love every single one of you. Thanks for reading, as always.

AN3: Huge thanks as always to Maggie, without whom I'd be a much poorer writer.

AN4: Hope y'all like Pride and Prejudice, because that's the basis for this one! :) Enjoy!

Prompt: "May I ask to what these questions tend?"
"Merely to the illustration of your character," said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. "I am trying to make it out."
"And what is your success?"
She shook her head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly." - Pride and Prejudice

Universally Acknowledged or

Five Times Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy Crossed Paths
(and one time their paths converged)

IV.

The Phoenix's Nest was a fairly expensive high-end restaurant, relatively new, and nearly impossible to get reservations for. And that's where Rose Weasley had been sitting alone, for an hour and a half, on her 26th birthday. Sighing, she sipped her water and tried to force down her growing irritation as she waved the waiter away one more time and scanned the restaurant yet again for her illusive date.

"Rose?"

She turned at the sound of her name, but instead of seeing the man she was supposed to be eating with, Scorpius Malfoy was standing behind her.

"Scorpius," she said, feeling strangely pleased to see him.

"You all alone?" he asked, taking in the table for two, still-folded napkin, and upside-down water glass.

"Yes, I am," Rose said, and a hint of her irritation crept into her voice. "Not supposed to be, mind you, but I am." Scorpius's eyes narrowed.

"Are you supposed to be on a date?" he asked, and Rose lifted her glass in an affirmative reply. "And who had the audacity to stand Rose Weasley up?" The way he said it made her breath catch in her throat momentarily, though there was no good reason for it. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice.

"Broderick Townsend, up in Processing," Rose said, trying to be dismissive, but not quite managing it. Scorpius was right, she was realizing – it did take a certain amount of audacity to stand her up on a date he'd arranged – and on her birthday, no less! Unless — "I just hope nothing has happened to him" she said with a sigh, torn between irritation now and worry.

"Broderick Townsend?" Scorpius asked darkly. "No, sadly, this piggish behavior is not atypical for him. He sets up a lavish date, bails, and sees how the girl reacts. Then if he thinks she's worth it, he spins some sad tale about a friend in St. Mungo's, with massive apologies, of course, and tries to earn himself "you're so sympathetic" sex. So, you may make free with your annoyance."

"You seem to know an awful lot about his MO," Rose observed, and Scorpius grinned.

"I am an ever-present observer," he said, and Rose laughed at that.

Then, impulsively, she said, "Join me." Scorpius looked surprised at the request, and Rose belatedly realized that he might have been there for a meeting, or even on a date of his own. "Unless, of course, you can't," she said in a rush. "If you're here with someone else, of course, don't let me—"

"No," Scorpius interrupted with a laugh. "No, I'm not, you just caught me off guard, is all."

"Will wonders never cease," Rose said with a raised eyebrow. "Have I finally managed to stun the unsurpriseable Scorpius Malfoy?" He ducked his head slightly in amused confession.

"I believe you have," he conceded. "Very well, I will join you. But – what if Townsend shows up?"

"He's an hour and a half late," Rose said bluntly. "If he shows up now, he deserves to see me with someone else. Besides, to be honest, I think an evening with you will be far more pleasurable than anything he had in store." Scorpius's eyebrows rose at that, and Rose realized too late how the words had sounded. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that, and you know it," she said with a laugh. "Now, are you joining me or not?"

"How could I possibly refuse such an elegant invitation?" he asked with a smirk and slid into the seat across from her as the waiter headed over to the table.

"So, what brings you here? Townsend's been bragging for a week how had it is to get reservations here, so I know you didn't just drop by."

"No," Scorpius confirmed. "I was supposed to have a business meeting, but my boss's wife just went into labor, so he canceled, but told me to go ahead and use the reservation since we had it."

"Well, I'd hate to keep you from a company reservation," Rose said, but Scorpius waved his hand.

"I'll release it to some lucky young couple," he said with a smile. "So, then. It's been, what, nearly a year this time?" he commented once their orders had been placed. "Happy birthday, by the way." Rose stared.

"How did you know it was my birthday?" she asked suspiciously.

"You didn't want to tap twenty-six times, remember?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "I forget nothing."

"Right," Rose said, coloring in embarrassment. "So, what have you been up to?" she asked to change the subject. He gave her a look, one that clearly said, You know I'm not going to answer that, and Rose rolled her eyes. "Come on," she said. "I wasn't asking about work, I wasn't asking you to divulge DoM secrets. I was asking about life. Surely you have one of those."

"Outside of work? Not really," he quipped, but Rose had a feeling it wasn't far from the truth. "The most interesting things that have happened in the past year have been directly related to work. Much like your own life, I'd wager. I heard about the Initiative. Congratulations."

Rose flushed with pride. The Lordon-Weasley Initiative was a project she had undertaken just after the start of the year. With Anabel's help, they'd spent months writing grants and starting the planning work on a Museum of Wizard History. "Thanks," she said sincerely, but then added, "but don't think I'm letting you off the hook. I am too used by now to your deflections. We will bring this conversation back to you." Scorpius laughed.

"I have no doubt," he said. "But in the meantime, how is the Initiative going?"

"Well, we got it approved, which was a big step," Rose said, but then frowned. "We're losing funding, though. Money we thought we had in the bag is disappearing. Anabel's worried, but we're moving ahead optimistically anyway. We've got some fundraisers planned that I hope will help. But right now, I'm in the middle of researching space for the thing, and the logistics are a nightmare! The city's already got Diagon Alley, St. Mungo's, and the Ministry to conceal, to say nothing of Gringotts. But I'm determined to make this work." She looked up to see Scorpius smiling softly at her in an intense sort of way, not unlike the look he'd given her last Christmas. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, enough about me and the Initiative. Your turn. And no deflecting."

"Rose," he said with a little laugh, "I'm not lying when I say there are things I really am not allowed to share."

"Okay, then we'll make it a game," Rose said with a twinkle. "You be vaguer than vague about your job, and I'll fill in the blanks. And if I guess right, you have to tell me." Scorpius laughed.

"I don't think I'll be agreeing to the last part of that, but fine. We can play that game."

Rose was taken aback. "Really?" she said, because she hadn't expected him to agree. He nodded.

"Sure. So, let's see. I took a trip to Germany."

"Hmm . . . recovering WWII era artifacts that are decidedly more magical than Muggles believe?"

Scorpius chuckled and shook his head. "Not my department." Rose thought for a moment.

"Okay, then," she said slowly. "My next guess . . . recovering information on Dumbledore's defeat of Grindlewald."

"Not even close," Scorpius said. "Get your mind out of the mid-20th century."

This game took them through most of dinner, and served to provide one of the most entertaining evenings that Rose could remember having in a long time. She found herself wondering why she didn't do this more often, why so much time always seemed to elapse between the times when she and Scorpius saw each other. And she decided the time had come to really get some answers from him.

"Since we're in a truth-sharing mood," she said over dessert, "I have to ask – did you mean what you said last Christmas? That you'd answer personal questions if I asked them of you?"

"Well, I don't think that's actually what I said, but . . ." He gazed at her for a long moment, as if measuring, considering, and Rose felt very exposed. But then he blinked, and the look was gone, and he said, "Ask away. I don't promise to answer, but I do promise not to lie." Rose rolled her eyes.

"That's no kind of promise," she said, bordering on petulant. "How about this one – you have to answer unless it's a direct matter of secrecy for your job."

"And how will you know? I could tell you it's secret just to get out of answering particularly embarrassing questions."

"Except that you already said you wouldn't lie," she pointed out with a smile. "Also, I am choosing to trust you."

Her words brought a strange, intense look to his face, one she couldn't read, but again, it was there for only a moment before he said, "All right. Ask your worst."

"Okay." She thought carefully, then smiled slowly. "Were you the Anonymous Valentine?" He stared at her for a moment, then groaned and buried his face in his hands. Rose's eyes went wide in gleeful surprise. "Oh my God, you were!" she exclaimed.

"No," he said emphatically, pointing. "I want to be absolutely clear. I was not. Except . . ." He sighed. "Sort of. Yes." Rose laughed, elated.

"Spill it, Malfoy!" she demanded. Scorpius sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

"Okay," he said good-naturedly. "No, I didn't originate the Anonymous Valentine, it was a thing that had been going on for a good five years before we even got to Hogwarts. But fourth year, I had the cursed bad luck to find Bobby Engle in the Owlery sending out all those valentines to the single female population, and he said that since I found him, the mantle passed to me. So, yes, for three years I sent out the damned things, but I did it under duress. It was not my idea."

"So Bobby Engle was the Anonymous Valentine?" Rose asked, genuinely curious now.

"No, it was someone before him. I don't know who."

"But you passed it on when you left?"

Scorpius nodded. "Yes."

"So this is a Dread Pirate Roberts sort of thing."

"Exactly."

"Okay, no." Rose crossed her arms as Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but no," he said again. "Classic Muggle literature, fine. I buy that. But Muggle 80s fantasy cult films? I'm sorry, you have just strained credulity. I refuse to believe it."

"It should be noted that I have no idea what you were referencing," Scorpius confessed. "But you sounded so sure of yourself, I felt confident it was an accurate reference."

Rose relaxed in her seat, but she continued to fix him with a slightly suspicious gaze. "All right, then," she said finally.

"So am I then to take it that you are a scholar of Muggle 80s fantasy cult films?" he questioned with a straight face, but Rose was certain he was poking fun at her.

"Not especially, no," she said with dignity. "But I know The Princess Bride because my mother was Muggleborn and grew up in the 80s. And don't try to bring this conversation back to me, sir."

"Of course not," he said with mock solemnity. "There is something I want to know in regards to this Anonymous Valantine business. Only two people officially know I had anything to do with it, and I'd like to know who you heard it from, because if those two are blabbing—"

Rose laughed. "It was Anna Pensworth," she said.

"Oh, that's all right then," Scorpius said, waving a dismissive hand. "She's a conspiracy theorist; no one takes her seriously."

"Why do you care if people find out?" Rose asked then.

"I don't want people painting a picture of me based on a single piece of information taken out of context," he said then. "They do that enough as it is."

He'd said it casually, matter-of-factly, but Rose could tell there was something driving the words. "Is it true you turned down Prefect?" she asked softly then.

He hesitated for only a moment before saying, "No," but Rose caught it.

"That's a half-truth," she said, no longer teasing or joking or cajoling, just pointing it out as a reminder that he'd promised to be honest. He sighed and looked down at his empty plate.

"I owled the Headmaster and my Head of House at the end of fourth year and asked them not to include my name in consideration for Prefect. I didn't turn it down because I didn't give them the chance to offer it to me."

"Do you think they would have?"

"I don't know," Scorpius said with a slight frown. "Maybe not, but I think Professor Eldritch might have tried."

"Because he knew your secret?" Rose asked, and Scorpius fixed her with a level gaze.

"What secret is that?" he asked, but he knew what she meant, and he knew she knew. He was just forcing her to say it.

"That you purposefully got bad grades. That you consistently dumbed yourself and your work down."

"First of all," he said, "I got mediocre grades, not bad ones. And I dumbed my work down, but never myself."

"So it's true then?" Even though she had asked, even though she'd heard the rumor, there was a part of her that still hadn't really believed that he had done such a thing, that anyone would really do such a thing, and to hear him confirm it . . . it still stunned her, even though she had known the answer.

"Yes," he said simply.

"Why?"

He smiled softly, inwardly, and then said, "I didn't want the attention. The truth is . . . well, the truth is I can't say this without sounding arrogant, so I'm just going to say it, and trust you to understand that it isn't said with arrogance, but . . . I'm brilliant, Rose." He said it almost apologetically, like he wasn't proud of it, like it was embarrassing, and Rose didn't, couldn't, understand that. "I've been brilliant my whole life. I remember things after seeing or reading or doing them once, I make connections with lightning speed. I am brilliant, and if I'd ever given my all at school, I would have been top of the class without even trying, and noticeably so. I want to say you'd have given me a run for my money, to be polite, but the truth is . . . not even you, Rose. There's no way I would have escaped notice, and the notice wouldn't have been positive. And I didn't want it. So, yes, I got questions wrong on tests. I prepared mediocre homework for the teachers. I did twice the work, once for myself, and once for them. And yes, Professor Eldritch caught me. I turned in the wrong essay once. Careless mistake, and she never let me forget it. But I never asked to be a Malfoy and ten times smarter than everyone else, and I wasn't going to let it define me."

"I guess," Rose said slowly, "that I can understand that." Scorpius smiled, and it seemed genuine.

"I'm glad," he said, and that seemed genuine, too. "This mindset . . . it's why I pursued the DoM. I figured out a long time ago I wanted to be an Unspeakable. Because they, more than anyone else in the world, really, understand that a person's aptitude has nothing to do with blood or family name. It's the one place I could apply and be confident that, accepted or rejected, it would be entirely on my own merit that I'd have been judged. Not my name, not my family, me. What I'm capable of. And the people who work with me know it, too. Regardless of what they think of me as a person, they know that if I'm there, I've earned it, just as they have, and they know I'll do my job. That's really the best scenario I could have hoped for."

There was a long silence as Rose searched for something appropriate to say to that. But all she came up with in the end was, "I really don't know you at all, do I?"

And she was filled with a deep and sudden sadness when he replied, "No. You don't." The sadness was only slightly lessened when he added, "But no one does, really, and you know me better than most."

He wished her a happy birthday and he thanked her for dinner, and she watched him walk away, wondering how long it would be this time before she'd seen him again, and how it was possible that on this night when she'd learned so much about him, he walked away more of a mystery unsolved than ever.

To be continued.