Reviewers! Hi! I heard that you existed, but I didn't believe it! I kid of course, but in all seriousness thank you for reading my bits and drabbles. It's duly appreciated.
Anyway, I couldn't leave well enough alone and decided to continue a bit from the last chapter. I apologize for the length and possible dullness, but I couldn't get anything accomplished until this was finished.
"Where are we going, Scorpius?" Patricia asked, giggling. That seemed to be all she knew how to do with any sort of confidence, but she was pretty, and Scorpius thought he deserved a few pretty things in his life.
"A little trust," he joked, pulling her by the hand. He knew of an abandoned tower somewhere in the west wing, and that seemed to be the perfect place for any sort of privacy with this girl, or any, really. He and Al had found it by complete accident one day in their first year when they had been late to class. It had become a place of refuge at first, somewhere they could go and plot and just hang out. But now that they were older, it had become a refuge of certain other uses. Scorpius and Al had both brought their fair share of girls there over the years, and this girl was certainly no exception. She'd probably see this place once.
They stopped at the stairs in the middle of the tower, right next to a window that looked out towards the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's hut. "Oo!" she cooed. "What is this place?"
"Just my little hideaway from the world," he said with a shrug, moving towards her.
"It certainly has a nice view," she purred, pressing against him.
Priceless. He had lost count of how many had said something about the view. That was part of the entertainment at stopping at this point on the stairs; it provided a perfect segue into the real business.
"Not as good as mine," he whispered into her ear.
She kissed him, and Scorpius found himself kissing her back. She certainly wasn't terrible, and Scorpius liked it quite a bit. In fact, it was a good while before he broke away from her, and that was only because he had heard a noise from somewhere above them.
"What's that?" he asked, breaking away.
"Who cares?" she whispered, trying to kiss him again. But he was curious now, and certainly didn't want their privacy to be disturbed by the caretaker or a prefect or anyone else who might happen to be up here with them. What if they had been followed? He couldn't bear to have that besmirch his clean school record (even if his reputation was a little less than pristine).
When he rejected her advances again, Patricia began to whine. "Come on, Scorpius! It's probably nothing."
It wasn't nothing, though. It was crying. And, unless his ears deceived him, it was a girl.
Who else knew how to get to this tower besides him and Al? He only knew of one person, and she had only found this tower by complete accident. He couldn't think of any reason why she'd be up there this late at night. Suddenly overcome by curiosity, Scorpius jerked out of Patricia's grip to head up the stairs.
"Um, where do you think you're going?" she demanded, following him.
"I just want to see who's up there."
"Why? They're not bothering us!"
"Just let me look, Patricia."
She rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips in a dangerous stance that (thanks to a certain red-headed cousin of his best friend) he knew meant that a fight was coming. "If you go up there, I'm leaving."
It was a clear cut ultimatum, and she was clearly in control of the outcome of either choice, and something in him wouldn't allow that. "Bye, then" he said, waving at her as he headed up the stairs. He heard a scoff and the stomping of her feet as she stamped down the stairs, and knew he had just lost any chance with her thanks to a mysterious sobbing stranger. Fantastic.
There was no point turning back now, especially since he had just sent his reason for trekking to the tower in the first place walking away in a huff. So, he crept along the stairs, following the sound of whoever was crying (they were really sobbing quite loudly). He came to the top of the tower, gently pushing open the door to see if there was anyone inside. There was huddled mass in the corner of the room that he took to be a girl, her shoulders bucking as she sobbed. From the minimal light streaming through the window, he saw that the girl had a mane of red hair that was pulled back away from her face. I should leave her alone, he thought, meaning to leave. Until a flash of recognition connected to that certain mane of red hair registered and was out of his mouth before his mind could stop it.
"Weasley?"
At the sound of his voice, the girl in the tower looked up to see who had called her name. The moon shining in through the window made her tear-stained face glisten and illuminated the angry expression that crossed over her features at the sight of him. "Oh, bloody brilliant!" Rose exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Her voice trailed off as she looked out the window, avoiding Scorpius's questioning gaze. "Of all the bloody people in the whole bloody school…"
Exactly what I was thinking, Scorpius thought. He just wanted to have a nice, fun filled evening with a girl he hardly knew, so of course he'd run into the one person that could possibly ruin it. Even if she was crying…
She was crying. The fact finally registered in his mind and became a coherent reality. Sure, it had been the sound that had led him to her in the first place, but actually seeing herin tears was enough to drive Patricia and whatever he had planned for that evening completely out of his mind. Rose Weasley was in tears, and the pure anomaly of entire concept unnerved him. "What's wrong?" he asked before he could stop himself, genuine concern lacing his words.
"It hardly matters, does it?" she demanded, holding back a sob. As she resolutely wiped her eyes, she turned on him with a look so scathing that he was half afraid she'd start screaming at him. "Why don't you go find someone else to bother and leave me alone!"
"Because I'm quite sure Albus would kill me if I left you crying," he said, taking a seat beside her as she burrowed her face in her knees. "And the rest of your family, for that matter," he added as an afterthought.
She muttered something he didn't quite hear, but sounded suspiciously like, "You should definitely go, then."
"And anyway," he continued, choosing to ignore any snide remarks, "you're in my tower, mind. I'd like to know why."
"It's none of your business," she grumbled into her knees.
He put up in hands in surrender, standing. "Fine, then." He wasn't in the mood to deal with any sobbing girls, especially since he had just lost his chance with a particularly pretty one, and he certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with any attitude from Rose Weasley, even if she was in tears. He'd have to just calmly explain to Al that Rose hadn't wanted him anywhere near her (which was entirely believable), and there was nothing he could do to comfort her.
He made to leave (and he should have left), but he couldn't without the final word. "Why don't you call you boyfriend then and get him to figure it out since it's 'none of my business.'"
"We broke up."
It was out of her mouth before she could stop it; he could tell by the matter-of-fact way she had said it. Tears started welling in her eyes again as though the weight of what she had said punched her in the chest all over again.
He really should have left when he had the chance.
Scorpius sat down again, heaving a dramatic sigh. "What happened?" he asked, doing his best to sound annoyed (when actually he was honestly curious).
She didn't look at him, choosing the view of the stars outside the window instead. "He said—" She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, as though to steady herself. "He said that it was getting too serious. That he wasn't ready for a relationship like I was looking for. He said—" She stopped, entirely unable to continue, and he knew that she was determined not to cry in front of him anymore.
Scorpius was about to call the boy a right bloody git, but then he remembered that that was exactly what he wanted from Patricia; nothing but a fling with no substantial relationship attached.
But that was different, he told himself. Patricia was some Hufflepuff who had been flirting with him in Charms since term had started, who was an airhead that he could hardly have a conversation with let alone a nice argument. Not like his Rose, who had a brain and a personality and an opinion that he could respect, even if he didn't agree. She didn't deserve to be treated like something that could be cast aside just because someone deemed her too serious, because she was too good for that.
But she wasn't his Rose, was she? She was just, well, Rose, the one who had a heart attack whenever he or Al hadn't finished his homework, the one who beat him at every test, the one who made it clear that—though she didn't play for her house team—she could destroy him on the Quidditch field any day of the week, the only person besides Al that he associated with in any way that could tell him he was wrong without being hexed. The one who he felt wrong thinking of as anything other than Al's cousin.
He couldn't very well tell her any of that, however, not without fear that whatever carefully developed animosity they shared would somehow disintegrate in an instant. "Cop out," he settled for instead.
"Excuse me?" she demanded, a spark of her old fire flaring in her eyes as she turned her head sharply to glower at him.
"You heard me. I said 'Cop out.' Ten galleons says that he has some other girl on the side, that wasn't so 'serious' that he could have a little fun—oof!"
The punch in the stomach had come as a bit of a shock and knocked the air clean out of him. He jumped to a standing position, trying to figure out what had just happened. He looked over at her to find her glaring at him, her fist poised to strike again. "What the bloody hell was that for?" he demanded as he finally caught his breath again.
"Merlin, Malfoy!" she exclaimed, looking completely mad, her eyes entirely wild. "He broke up with me! That's it! No cheating! N-no other girl! He just—"
The dams of her resolve finally broke, and the tears came before she could finish. She started to sob, and—without a second thought otherwise—Scorpius quickly sat next to her again and grabbed her around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She didn't argue, but cried into his shirt, apologizing over and over again for the stain she was surely going to leave as he gently shushed her and rubbed her arm.
Though he wouldn't realize it until much later, it was then he vowed that he would never let anyone make Rose Weasley cry again. It was also then that he vowed that whoever made Rose Weasley cry ever again would be severely punished (which is the real reason, though Rose never knew it, that the git who had broken her heart ended up in the hospital wing several days later due to a severe head injury that was caused by a bludger to the head in a brilliant shot by Scorpius Malfoy).
They never spoke of that night, not even to Albus; as far as anyone was concerned, it had never happened. But there were clues (including a certain bludger induced head injury that had cost Slytherin the match) that even Albus couldn't miss; Rose was certainly more polite to Scorpius, and Albus noticed a protective streak towards Rose that Scorpius had never displayed before (but Albus was certain had always been there). They could even stay in the same area of space for more than a few minutes without arguing.
But it hardly mattered, because neither would admit anything more than a mutual disdain. Albus was going to have to take matters into his own hands, it seemed.
You still there? Hi! I promise that Scorpius isn't really a manwhore; it just seems that way. In reality, he's just free with who he kisses. And, as I'm (unfortunately) not British, I had to use American slang. I'm not even sure if cop out is British.
Anyway, as a last announcement before I actually bore you to death, I'm taking requests. "So early?" you ask. "Yes," I answer, "because I enjoy having inspiration."
