Okay, so I really hate the new Copy-N-Paste thing for this site -.- Anyway, enjoy lovelies!
Also, I'm not even going to bother making excuses because I have none.

The long corridors of the ancient castle grew dark with the sun's death, the large windows drinking in the last drops of light wavering on the stone floor. The corners spilled darkness out over my feet like fog as I strolled along the wall of portraits to my right. Most of the characters were already sleeping soundly in their frames, most emitting quiet little "pff"s when they breathed out, making the plumes of their hats flutter if they happened to have fallen in front of the face. A few snored against the invisible wall that kept them within the confines of their frame.

I stopped to study a particularly amusing painting, an elderly man leaning against the gold frame with his mouth wide open and his head propped back on his shoulders. He was dressed in the medieval garb of a nobleman; white tights with black shoes and golden buckles at the toes, puffy pantaloons with green, red, and gold vertical stripes, long sleeved shirt with fluffy shoulders to match the pants, and a tiny poofy hat with a feather. He let out a loud snort as he slept and I stifled a giggle.

As I covered my mouth with my hand, the sound of a small pebble hitting the floor alerted me to another's presence. I whipped around, looking to my left and right, expecting to see Filch and Mrs. Norris rounding the corner at any moment. I gathered my wits and pieced together a quick story about prefect duties that he certainly wouldn't believe but might give me enough time to come up with a more believable lie while he considered the first one.

I stood stock still in the moonlight cast from the towering window behind me. No one entered the hallway and nothing else moved. I tried to breathe slowly and organize my brain but I was anxious about being caught. Rose Weasley did not sneak out at night and she was not about to be given detention for it.

My nerves were starting to get to me around the thirty-second mark of my frozen state. I bit my lip, praying that I would calm down and my ears would stay nonexistent.

But Rose Weasley is not a lucky girl.

They unfolded with a slow, sore sort of feeling similar to stretching tight limbs first thing in the morning. It felt wonderful, like a release of tired energy and I marveled at how lovely it felt to let the appendages free. I sighed in contentment but quickly came to my senses. With a quiet shriek I covered the ears with my hands and scrambled down the hallway and around the corner, paying no mind to who might be just out of sight around the bend.

Rose Weasley is not a lucky girl.

I ran smack into a solid chest, swearing at the impact and stumbling backward. I caught myself against the wall with one hand and lightly touched my forehead with the other. I must have hit my head against the person's collarbone when I ran into them.

I shook my head and began apologizing, "I am so sorry I didn't mean to—"

I heard a low chuckle with a familiar seductive undertone and I jerked my head up in surprise. There in the dark, with his silver blonde hair shining in the light of his wand, stood Scorpius Malfoy, grinning like he had just won the lottery.

Of course, he didn't actually know what a lottery ticket was…

"You don't have to apologize, Weasel." He smirked at my distressed state.

I snarled back him, "Yeah, I ran into you and not some other poor soul."

"Ouch."

I sniffed and straightened myself, brushing my clothing off in a meticulous manner, taking time to pick off bits of lint on my shoulder. I held my chin high, primly ignoring the smirking Slytherin before me.

"I'm loving the ears, Weasel."

Shit!

I shoved my hands over the ears and glared at Malfoy who merely grinned at me with satisfaction. He stepped closer to me, the light of the wand between us illuminating his handsome features as he backed me up against the cold wall. I shifted nervously, still covering my ears as his scent filled my nose and invaded my enhanced senses. I had to remind myself several times that I hated the kid and that he did not smell good, not like vanilla and male, not at all.

I was surprised to find how tall Scorpius had grown in the past few years. I pressed myself into the wall as he towered over me with his well-built slim body and wished that I'd been more prepared to handle a situation like this. He braced himself against the wall by my head with one hand and I couldn't help but graze my eyes over the slender cords of muscle roped along his arms. I swallowed hard when he caught me looking, offering a pleased, lopsided grin that just screamed "sexy." His shaggy hair fell into his eyes as he moved in.

Some part of me was screaming, "Run away! This guy is bad news and you know it!" There was another part, however, that was smacking the first part saying, "Don't be stupid! This is a once in a lifetime chance!"

Much to my dismay, the second part was winning.

Scorpius lowered his head a bit more and brought his lips to my left ear. Taking my hands from my ears, I pressed them into his chest and tried to keep him from getting any closer (major fail, Rose, major; apparently I have thing for pectoral muscles). I could feel the blood pumping through my head at a million miles an hour and I was afraid that I would explode with the force of it.

"I was serious, Rosie." Malfoy whispered into my ear and I shivered when his warm breath hit the tender skin of my neck. "I really do like the ears."

My heart immediately sank into my stomach in a sweet dip but I defiantly wrestled it back up into my chest; there was no way Scorpius Malfoy would get the best of me.

I slid down the wall quickly and slipped under his arm, stumbling away from him as he chuckled mischievously, "Am I making you uncomfortable, Rose?"

"Shove off, Malfoy." I rubbed my arms trying to make the goose bumps disappear before he saw them.

His teeth glinted in the wand light, "Make me, Weasel."

Disgusted by his childish comeback, I snarled at him before turning sharply and my heel and darting away from him into the dark confines of the corridors before me.

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"Rose, you'll be paired with Scorpius for prefect duties."

Okay, not the words I wanted to be hearing at my first prefect meeting.

"But—"

"No buts, no cuts, no coconuts, okay, Weasley?" Timothy Campbell, the Head Boy, raised his eyebrows at me. "McGonagall's orders."

I groaned, wallowing too deep in my absolute despair to laugh at the perplexed faces of the other prefects who were confused by Timothy's use of the muggle expression.

Yolanda Pierce, a mild mannered Hufflepuff, raised her hand primly before asking, "I'm sorry. What is this about coconuts? And surely we will not be cutting people as prefects?"

Timothy stifled a snort at her misguided assumption and replied, "Never you mind. Now, does anyone have any questions about their patrol partners?"

He looked around the Head common room at the rest of the prefects. To "promote unity" and "strengthen House relationships", we had each been paired with someone from another House. Of course, it was really just McGonagall's excuse to pair me up with my new tutor so we could be seen together without any questions asked. Sneaky old bat.

At the lack of questions, comments, or complaints, Timothy nodded curtly and sent us off with a wave of his hand, "Dismissed."

I had a sudden contempt for Timothy Campbell. At some point during my first five years at Hogwarts, I had found him to be quite likable; he was a gangly boy with sea green eyes and soft brown hair that swept in front of his face too much. He took life too seriously sometimes but he was very kind and had a way with the younger students, especially the first years. I had always liked his straightforward demeanor and admired the way he handled most situations with a serious attitude that gave insight to his leadership skills but at the moment I held a twinge of dislike for the muggleborn boy and his stupid rule-follower creed.

Hildegard Norden, a tall Hufflepuff, merely nodded in agreement with Timothy, her large awkward frame filling her chair with her big bones and long legs. The new Head Girl was never one to speak much and I knew that Dom was going to have a hell of a time trying to get her to say something when they went on patrol together (yes they were a pair and I later looked back on the situation as quite humorous). Her long blonde hair fell in waves down her back, shiny in the daylight streaming in from the huge window centered on the right wall of the room. Compared to Timothy, the girl was a giant, towering over her fellow superior but far belittled by him in eloquence.

At Timothy's word, the room quietly sprang to life, the sound of parchment and quills rustling as they were put away and murmured conversations between prefects filling the rest of the silence. Eris Zabini, a lovely, exotic looking girl, neatly packed her green messenger bag and fiddled with the small green pin-on top hat in her ebony hair until she felt that its position was satisfactory. She fixed her black gothic style dress as she stood up, perfectly balanced in her black high heels, charmed so she could walk comfortably through the large castle without getting blisters or sore feet. She wasn't a typical Slytherin; rather, she was weird and liked things that other Slytherins considered useless or a waste of time. Ever since our third year when the girl discovered "cosplay," a muggle obsession where one dresses as a character or some such being from a book or a cartoon, she had reverted to a very odd wardrobe full of frivolous clothes and meaningless costumes. I thought her style was interesting but I would never be brave enough to actually wear anything from her closet.

Geoffrey Spints, the male prefect from Gryffindor House, eyed Eris with amusement, obviously trying to pick out his best pick up line from his extensive collection. The boy had always been a huge flirt, although no one actually paid much attention to him nor did any of the girls give him the time of day. He never seemed to mind though; he was very much a "Peter Pan" figure with not a care in the world and a stance that made him look as though he were on the brink of flight. His dirty blonde hair was always wild and messy and when paired with his boyish grin, he wasn't all that bad looking. His mischievous attitude got him into trouble most days; I made a mental note to ask Professor McGonagall why she had given Geoffrey a prefect position despite the fact that he had spent his entire fourth year in detention with Professor Longbottom.

Thomas Johnson and Yolanda Pierce walked by me just then and I focused my attention on the two Hufflepuffs. They were conversing quietly and pleasantly, as Hufflepuffs often do. Thomas was a twiggy fifth year, the youngest among the prefects but by far the smartest. He had thick glasses rimming his large eyes that nearly swallowed his timid face. His freckled cheeks framed a small nose and his thin lips settled above a very girlish chin. Despite his nerdish looks and many nights spent studying far into the early hours of the morning (purely because he was curious, mind you), Thomas was actually a very social boy who didn't take much note of the Slytherin bullies in many of his classes. He considered most of them to be inferior if they had to make rude comments just to feel better about themselves and I wondered how his self-confidence could be so abundant when most of the Hufflepuff classes were shared with Slytherin House.

Yolanda was a very plain girl with large brown eyes and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had a willowy body with uninteresting features and long fingers that I knew were useful when she played the piano in the Room of Requirement late on Sunday evenings. Her only defining characteristics were her sharp cheekbones that jutted out from her face and pulled on her skin and her long brunette hair that nearly reached her knees when braided. Her hair was her pride and joy and, although she was usually very calm and pleasant, I remember her being reduced to hysterics when James had joked about cutting it in Potions class last year. The poor girl had to be removed from the room by Madam Pomfrey and James was given a month of detention for scaring her so much.

The other students milling about the room included Ly, Scorpius, and Dom, all three of which were packing their things away in their bags. Ly and Dom exchanged a few words and then laughed at some joke I couldn't hear from where I was sitting across the room. My gaze flicked over to Malfoy only to find him smirking at me. I furrowed my brow, waited for Timothy to turn around, and flipped off the grinning Slytherin when the Head Boy wasn't looking. Scorpius feigned hurt, clutching his heart and acting wounded. I huffed and snatched up my supplies, then scurried out the door without waiting for Ly or Dom to catch up with me.

Hope you enjoyed, loves! R&R even though I don't deserve it.