Chapter 4: Mutual Hatred
Words cannot describe the hatred I feel all the way to my core for Scorpius Malfoy! See here I was thinking that the afternoon spent pulling up gnomes with Malfoy was torture. But oh I was so wrong. That was like a cake-walk compared to this.
After our little fight, and cleaning up the mess we made knocking over the table and sending the cookies everywhere and shattering both glasses, Malfoy and I had to try and work out how to cooperate enough to entertain ourselves while we're stuck together like this. Since we were only allowed to bring books, that means we had to get over to the bed, and dig around. It is also much harder to keep a heavy textbook open to the page you want it at when every other second someone else's pulse tickles its way through your hand.
Somehow, in spite of being incredibly angry at each other and Malfoy wanting to cave my face in with his fists, we managed to settle ourselves on the bed, sitting facing each other, both under our respective blankets. Our knees brush together and our interwoven fingers rest on one knee. It's irritating having to sit so close to him and having to face him when I would rather not have to look at him. We completely ignore each other, but that is fine with me. He is absorbed in his wandlore book and I am just as intrigued as I pour through my Herbology text. It isn't one for school, but instead a copy that is filled with information on every kind of magical plant from all around the world. Since I'm a huge fan of Herbology and Potions, and one day intend to release my own line of beauty potions and other useful potions like that, I just love reading about the kinds of effects all the different kinds of plants can have if they are combined.
I glance over at Malfoy when he drags our joined hands up to his face to rub the end of his nose. I narrow my eyes at him when my fingers brush against his face while he does it.
"What do you think you're doing?" I demand softly. After his little outburst earlier and my pathetic little whimper of fear concerning him, we haven't actually spoken to each other, but there is no way I can stay silent. He looks over at me as though he is surprised that I'm even still here and then he glances down at our joined hands, I smirk as I poke him in the eye with the hand in front of his nose. I make sure I don't do it very hard, since I have no doubt there will come a time during the rest of the night when he'll be able to pay me back for it.
I quirk an eyebrow, wondering if he is acting or if he really managed to forget he's been sitting there holding my hand for the past I don't know how many hours.
"What did you do that for?" he murmurs.
"I don't like touching you without causing pain," I reply. Malfoy narrows his eyes at me for a minute then he shrugs and goes right back to what he was doing, rubbing his nose more vigorously even though it makes my fingers brush against his forehead.
"Why do you always have to be so insufferable?" I ask him, snatching my hand away.
"Why do you have to keep on breathing?" He counters, but before I can snap at him and start another fight he snaps his book shut, "Merlin I'm bored," he grumbles, "I wish your grandparents had a tele or something. This would be a lot more bearable if we could watch a movie."
In spite of myself, I chuckle "As if you and me could agree long enough to pick a movie to watch." I tell him. Gram doesn't approve of Televisions, and most wizards don't have them since magic makes them go funny. Uncle Harry has a home theatre over at his place, and no one is allowed to use magic in there. If you want to watch tele you have to surrender you wand in the entrance hall outside it.
"You think it would work if we transfigured something into one?" Malfoy asks, pulling out his wand and eyeing one of the boxes of junk in the corner of the room.
"Probably not. You could make it look like a tele, but there is no electricity here to plug it into. Also, even if there were, we don't have any movies."
Malfoy sighs dramatically, and flops sideways on the bed. He stretches out on his back, dragging my hand over so that it rests on his stomach, "Wish I was old enough to apparate," he grumbles, "Even if I had to drag you along, I'd rather watch a movie or do something than just sit here."
"What's wrong with your book?" I ask him, amused in spite of myself and appalled to find that we can get along when we feel like it. I sort of knew we could and that if we stopped all the arguing we'd probably be capable of being civil just fine. Except every five seconds one of us seems to do or say something to irritate the other and a fight inevitably breaks out. Maybe being forced into each other's company and bored out of minds could really work and make us cooperate….
"I've already read it, more than once…." He admits.
I glance at the little pile of books I brought with me, they are mostly all text books for our classes this year. Malfoy sees me eyeing them and waves his free hand at me dismissively.
"I've already read all those too. Besides, they're so boring that I don't want to re-read them until I have to for class."
I nod at him. They weren't exactly thrilling reads, though I did enjoy reading about all the new potions we'd be doing this year.
"So what are you going to do? It's not as if there is a lot to do up here and I doubt anyone is likely to come up here to entertain us. Even Fred won't risk Gram's wrath after today."
Malfoy rolls back onto his side so he is facing me and smirks at me evilly. I narrow my eyes at him dangerously, not at all liking the way he is eyeing me as though he can think of plenty of ways to keeps us both entertained. All of them sinister.
"Don't even think about it Malfoy," I snap, not liking the way my insides coil with anticipation when I catch sight of the heated look he throws my way.
"All you'd have to do is say yes Weasley," he sneers creepily and I stare at him trying to work out whether or not he's serious or if he's just saying it to mess with me.
"Are you seriously suggesting we fill the time by being inappropriate with each other?" I demand. He chuckles huskily and I jump when he squeezes the hand he has hold of.
"What's the matter Weasley? You too chicken?"
I glare at him, "I'm not chicken at all, but given my hatred for you, I'm not at all attracted to you. I don't care what you might or might not have heard, I don't let people into my knickers if I'm not attracted to them."
"Why not? It's fun. If you hook up with someone you hate, you can be completely selfish and when you're done you can just walk away. What's so difficult about that?"
"You're missing the point Malfoy, it's not because I hate you. I'm sure it would be incredibly easy to shag someone even if I hated them, but I'd have to sexually attracted to them. Unfortunately for you, I'm not."
He narrows his eyes on me for a minute and I quirk an eyebrow at him, trying to keep any kind of expression from my face since technically I'm lying. I may not like admitting it, but while my brain finds him and his personality repugnant, it has no qualms about being sexually attracted to him. And how could I not be. He wasn't voted as being the fittest guy in our year for nothing. Even if I didn't think it was the case, it's probably true. After all, I've seen him with his shirt off…. I know he isn't some sunken-chested little weakling and in spite of my hatred for the sneer he wears around me, when he smiles he can be kind of handsome I suppose. I mentally scold myself for my thoughts as an image of him completely naked from last summer flashes into my mind, proving my mouth wrong.
"You're lying Weasley," Malfoy tells me, grinning smugly, "If you weren't then all those little incidents in fourth and fifth year wouldn't have happened."
"Hey, it's you who keeps crushing me and trying to suffocate me with your tongue, not the other way around!" I argue.
"Funny, I don't remember it being my fault when you launched yourself across the room at me from out of a cauldron to wrap yourself around me and stick your tongue down my throat?"
"You stuck me in a bloody cauldron! What did you think I was going to do?" I demand. Malfoy laughs at me.
"I don't know, maybe hex me or try to beat me up. Not choke me with your tongue," he says.
"You started it. You're always flying into a rage and doing something stupid like snogging me! I figured that it would piss you off since when you do it to me I want to beat the hell out of you."
"You're twisted Weasley," he tells me matter-of-factly. I glare at him.
"You kissed me first," I argue childishly, as though that in some way excuses my behaviour.
"I did," Malfoy concedes, watching me as though I intrigue him, "But if I hadn't I would've killed you."
I stare at him for a minute, not really understanding the way he is looking at me. He smirks at my confusion.
"Weasley, look at you," he waves his hand at me "You're this tiny, petite little creature. If you weren't such a bitch you probably would be kind of adorable. And you're a girl, one who happens to have a huge family filled with hot headed male cousins and uncles, not to mention a protective father. You constantly pick fights with me and you drive me bonkers all the time. Now look at me," he says "I'm nearly a foot taller than you, probably twice as strong and a guy. When you go nuts and we get so barmy at each other that you start hitting me, do you really think I don't want to hit you back?"
I raise my eyebrows "I know you want to. What happened earlier is proof of that."
"Funny, I don't remember hitting you," he tells me snidely, "I'll bet you can't actually think of a time when I have hit you. Because you're a tiny little girl and I'm a guy. And every time you hit me my fists clench to retaliate, but I don't."
"Bollocks you don't! You shove me into things and throw me around and try to choke me!"
He doesn't appear to hear me even as his eyes bore into mine, "When you started that fight with me after detention in fourth year…. I was ready to kill you. I'd never hit a girl before but as I shoved you into that wall I was about to unleash on you. By the time I'd finished you would've been dead, and then you bloody well slapped me. Pinned to the wall, half my size and about to be introduced to my fists and you still had the nerve to slap me! I even wrapped my hands around your throat so I could choke the bloody life out of you and you just glared at me and insulted me some more…." He shakes his head, "Every time I get so mad at you that I want to kill you or hit you or you get so crazy with hitting me or screaming at me like some out of control bitch, I pin you to something and snog you because if I don't I'll end up locked in Azkaban for the rest of my life."
I stare at him, "Then why did you hit the floor before?"
Malfoy narrows his eyes at me, "Because sometimes snogging you and pissing you off just doesn't cut it. But that's why I snog you, to keep myself out of prison. Therefore, you're lying. You are sexually attracted to me. If you weren't you wouldn't kiss me back and you wouldn't ever initiate the snogging, even if you're furious."
"How do you know I didn't do it to keep from killing you?" I ask, not liking his logic at all.
Silently Malfoy points to the cut on his lip from where I've hit him today and then to his cheek which is still red from how hard I slapped him.
"You're not going to get killed for hitting me, whereas me, if I were to lay hands on you that way, your whole family would murder me for picking on their poor, defenceless little girl," He sneers at me.
"I am not defenceless!" I snarl at him, "You want to fight about it? I'll bloody well prove it!"
Malfoy looks slightly amused, "There you go again, striking out at people for no reason," he clucks his tongue disapprovingly. I glare at him, snapping my book shut.
"I hate you Malfoy" I tell him nastily.
"Maybe," he grins wickedly "But that doesn't mean you don't wish that your sex life was my business, which brings me back to my original statement. All you have to do is say yes, Weasley."
I roll my eyes, "You have a one track mind" I accuse, "But I can assure you that my sex life is not now, nor will it ever be your business and I do Not want it to be."
"Weasley don't make me prove it to you that you do want it to be my business," he threatens, eyeing me hungrily.
"Having trouble keeping your hands to yourself Malfoy?" I ask him, eyeing him the same way. After all, I do live to mess with this particular boy's head. Most of the time I do that by fighting with him and hating him, but as I realised earlier, it might be fun to do it to him sexually too. After all, what guy can resist having a girl rub up against them? Even a girl who hates them.
"No, but if I stay bored much longer…. Well even you might start to look good Weasley."
I chuckle huskily, "I already look good or you wouldn't have suggested it in the first place."
"Says who? Maybe I'm just messing with your head to see how far you'll go so I can tell everyone and ruin your reputation," his eyes glitter with mischief.
"If that were true you would've told the world after the incident in fourth year," I point out.
"Maybe I didn't tell everyone because you would be able to point out that it was involuntary," he counters.
"Yeah right Malfoy. You're just as terrified as I am of having people find out about our snogging."
His eyes dare me to lean over and find out whether or not he's messing with me, but I just fix him with my man-catching smoulder and watch the way his eyes darken with lust.
"Now who's secretly attracted to whom, Malfoy?" I murmur.
"You can pretend all you want Weasley, we both know that every time I get close to you, your heart speeds up." He tells me, eyes feasting on my lips. Aware of his interest, I let my tongue dart out to moisten them. It's kind of fun to manipulate him.
"What's the matter Malfoy" I taunt him softly, "Are you afraid of what I might do if you try to snog me again?"
His eyes narrow slightly and I wonder if he knows I'm reeling him in. My mind drifts back to the kiss we shared this afternoon and I feel my thighs clench involuntarily with what I can only described as desire. Sweet Merlin what if he's right and I am secretly sexually attracted to him? How twisted does it make me that I'm apparently attracted to my enemy? Slowly I move until I'm lying on my side like he is, facing him. I lift our joined hands and rest them on my hip, watching the way his eyes dart down to them when he feels his hand brush against the exposed skin of my hip where my shirt has ridden up. My smouldering man-catcher look in place as I let go of my steely control and find out for real if I really am sexually attracted to him.
The way he watches me makes my stomach do a somersault and I chuckle huskily, leaning towards him until my breasts brush against his chest. His fingers squeeze mine as he slides his hand off my hip and down over the smooth skin of my flat stomach. This close to him, I breathe in the scent of him. His breath smells like spun sugar and his body smells like honey and mint. Lifting my leg a little, I move it over, sliding it up to hook over his hip. His eyes are hungry and they dare me to go all the way. I smile, knowing that he's going to think I'm attracted to him but not really caring since it will be fun to watch him want me and then get shut down.
I slide closer to him until my body is pressed flush against his and I pretend to smile about it when he moves our joined hands to my arse.
"Still bored Malfoy?" I murmur to him huskily, my own stomach is doing little somersaults as the thrill of doing something so forbidden and wrong races through me.
"You'll have to better than that, Weasley," he murmurs back, his voice low and wicked. I smirk at the dare I can hear in his words and before he can blink I lever myself up until I am straddling him like was earlier, only this time I have no intention of hitting him. His eyes darken until they are almost black with lust when I lower myself down onto his groin. Biting my lip seductively, I let my hips roll; rubbing against him teasingly. A low hiss slides through Malfoy's teeth and I smirk to know that I'm having such an effect on him.
"Careful Weasley," he says, "or we might find out whether or not all the things I've heard about you are true." I chuckle in response. I have no idea what kinds of things he has supposedly heard about me, but they must be juicy lies.
"What's the matter Malfoy?" I murmur, leaning forwards until my face hovers over his "Don't you like this game anymore?"
There is a part of me that can't believe I'm actually doing this, and an even bigger part of me that is appalled by the way my body is reacting to the things I'm doing to him. I bite my lip again when I feel my body clench with desire. Slowly I let my free hand slide into his blonde hair and clench it into a fist on top of his head, using my grip on him to tilt his head back. His eyes are wild and hungry as I lower my face until it hovers directly above his. Kissing is like the Christmas Eve of sex, but I've always love the Christmas Eve of kissing. The long, lingering moment of keen anticipation and desire when the lips are so close, yet not touching.
I take one of those moments now, with my lips almost touching his, to linger. To enjoy the thrills that race through me at the idea of voluntarily kissing Scorpius Malfoy, even if it is with the intention of leading him on and then shutting him down. His expression is filled with longing and just dares me to really do it, to close the miniscule distance between our lips and snog him senseless. I wait until his eyes all but beg me to kiss him before I brush my lips against his with feather light pressure. My eyes are just about to flutter closed when a sound catches my attention and I pull away from him to stare at the door.
Soft scratching noises are coming from the door and I narrow my eyes before I suddenly realise that the noise would probably be someone trying to pick the lock.
"Fuck!" I hiss, throwing myself off Malfoy. He looks confused for a moment but then he must hear it too, rolling until we are facing each other, joined hands flat on the bed and books spread out between us, I glance at Malfoy with panic in my eyes, hoping there is no way that whoever is on the other side of that door will suspect I just kissed Malfoy. I've never told anyone about the way me and Malfoy seem to end up snogging so often. Not even my favourite cousin and best friend Fred. I can just imagine he would be shocked, and probably a little angry. He'd think I was crazy. Merlin, I think I'm crazy every damn time he does it. Malfoy smirks at me evilly across the bed as the door opens and I can see the unresolved lust still glittering in his grey eyes as the door finally creaks open.
Both of us glance over to see who it is and I watch Malfoy smile when he recognises the messy black hair of his best friend.
"Well isn't this a pretty picture" Albus Potter chuckles as he stares at us, "I can't believe you're both still alive. Though I have to say Scorp, you're not in the best shape. You been letting Rosie beat you up again?" Malfoy laughs and for the first time I let my gaze focus on the parts of his face that aren't his lustful eyes.
My punching session from earlier wasn't kind to him. His bottom lip is swollen, red and puffy with crusted blood on it because it's been split open so many times tonight by my fist. It's seeping a little now and I realise that every time he smiles until it fully heals, it will crack open. His cheek is still red from where I slapped him so hard. He also has the shadow of a bruise on his jaw from me hitting him in a rage earlier. When I glance down at the hand that isn't attached to mine, I notice that his knuckles are puffy and scuffed with blood from where he hit the floor so hard instead of my face.
"What are you doing up here?" I ask Albus before Malfoy can speak.
"I came to bring you guys these," he says, lifting a chess board and a set of gobstones, "Fred is on his way up too with food. Everyone else has finally gone to bed, so we snuck into the kitchen to get you guys some dinner. I think Fred is bringing you a pot of tea too. We figured that if you hadn't killed each other, both of you would be getting to the stage where you'd be about ready to start gnawing on each other in hunger."
I smile at him, "You're the best Al," I tell him, "Gram knew we'd kill each other without food so she gave us a plate of biscuits and a glass of milk each but they were gone hours ago." I suddenly realise how hungry I am and I smile when my favourite cousin in the world wanders into the room levitating a two tea trays in front of him. One has two plates piled high with food and the other has a large pot of tea as well as cups, milk, and sugar on it.
"Hey Freddy," I beam at him. He looks funny in his black and red striped pyjamas when he usually wears jeans and a leather motorbike jacket.
Fred is the bad boy of our generation in the brood. He has an awesome hair cut where the front and back are longer in the middle and the sides and cropped short in a wide, subtle Mohawk style. He also managed to get auburn hair rather than the Weasley ginger. Fred also happens to have a tattoo, which Aunt Angelina hasn't discovered yet. It's a huge black dragon that looks like it's clawing it's way up his back and it's head curls down over his left shoulder like it's going to take a bite out of his throat. It looks amazing.
Fred rides a motorcycle and can wear a leather biker jacket like nobody's business. He's also my favourite cousin and technically my best friend. Which originally developed because Dom used to be a bit of a snob towards me 'cause I was a tom-boy while she was the biggest girly-girl ever. And since Albus is an idiot and got chucked into Slytherin, Fred, who is in his last year at Hogwarts this year, took me under his wing when I was in first year. It actually works out really well because it means that I made friends in my year for classes and such but that I'm really close with the guys in seventh year 'cause he loves having me around.
"Hey kid, how ya doin'?" he says to me. I really like the way Fred talks, he spent a year learning the Swahili language Aunt Angelina's Mother speaks, and it gave him a cool accent.
"Save me please! Or better yet just put me out of my misery."
"Kiddo you know I would do anything for you, but Gram laid down the law that I'm not to detach the two of you, even if I do know how. Me and Al are already risking death by bringing you guys food and something else to entertain yourselves with. So don't even think about asking me to detach you. Sorry kid but much as I love ya I fear Gram's wrath more." Fred grins at me and ruffles my curly hair.
"Gee thanks. So you know how to get this undone, but you're not going to help me? Do you understand that I can feel it every time his disgusting black heart beats? It throbs through my hand. And you won't even help your favourite cousin!" I say, disgusted with him for telling me he could help, but isn't going to. Even if he has made up for it a little by bringing me food. He levitates everything over to the bed and Malfoy and I sit up, putting aside our books while Al drops down onto it and helps us arrange the tea trays.
I smile gratefully when Fred puts my plate of food in front of me and hands me some cutlery. Albus laughs when my stomach rumbles.
"So what happened to your face Scorp?" Al asks, eyeing the red hand print on his best friend's cheek. Malfoy throws a glare at me when I snort.
"She slapped me," Malfoy says, "Twice."
"Rosie why do you have to be so violent?" Al demands, "Why can't you just get along with Scorp like everyone else does?"
I roll my eyes but as I open my mouth to rip Al a new one for his stupidity in even asking, Malfoy cuts me a glare, reminding me of his words earlier about laying off on being a bitch to Al. I don't like taking his orders or even listening to him but I quickly rethink my response anyway.
"Mostly because he's a complete twat, but this time he actually deserved to be slapped," I tell Albus.
"What did he do to possibly deserve to be slapped that hard?" Albus demands, clearly upset at the state his friend is in.
"He called me a whore. There was some wrestling too, since fighting is unavoidable. I don't take kindly to being pinned, so I slapped him." Fred has been watching the exchange in silence and Malfoy flinches a little when Fred reaches out and takes hold of his chin, tilting his face towards the light crackling in the fireplace so he can see the mark better.
"Shit Rosie, how hard did you hit him?" Fred asks me, before he catches sight of Malfoy's abused fist. As soon as he does his hand slips down to close on Malfoy's throat.
"What did you do to her, boy?" Fred growls like the dragons he so adores.
"Fred what are you doing?" Albus asks, shocked by Fred's aggression which is only seen very rarely. Fred indicates to Malfoy's swollen fist and Albus frowns.
"You hit her?" Albus asks, shocked and staring at his friend in horror.
"No I didn't damn well hit her. I bloody well wanted to though. Get off me Fred," Malfoy snaps angrily, glaring at me as though this is all my fault.
"He was too chicken to do it," I tell my cousins, sneering at Malfoy. "He lined it up and everything, but then he hit the floor like a pussy instead."
Malfoy narrows his eyes on me dangerously, "Careful Weasley," he growls "Or next time I won't be so willing to find alternatives to breaking your nose."
I glare at him "Even you wouldn't be stupid enough to hit a girl Malfoy," I retort.
"He better not be," Fred growls, leaning away from Malfoy to throw an arm around my shoulder while staring daggers at the blonde haired git sitting opposite me. "He'd better not think about trying anything with no one here through the night either," Fred threatens darkly, "If he so much as thinks about groping my baby cousin or laying a hand on her, I'll castrate him. You got that Malfoy?" He sneers at the git.
Malfoy grins wickedly, "I'd rather molest a cat than touch her!" he sneers right back before throwing me a look of disgust. I flip him off and dig my nails into his hand.
"I knew you were a foul little git with bad taste!" Fred says to him.
"Let's not fight for a change," Albus suggests, getting irritated with all of us for arguing. "Scorp isn't going to do anything to Rose, even when she does deserve it."
"You think I deserve to be groped by a git?" I ask Albus.
"No! Scorp wouldn't do that. But it's not fair when you two fight that you hit him when he's not allowed to hit you back."
I roll my eyes and go back to my dinner.
"What have you guys been doing anyway?" Fred asks me while I scarf down my food ravenously. I shrug.
"Reading mostly. Fighting. Trying to deal with the situation. Hating each other. You know, the usual."
"Sucks that Gram is doing this. You guys pushed her too far," Albus says, "She was in a foul mood when she came back downstairs too. What did you do to make her even angrier?"
"Someone can't control their mouth and had to point out flaws in your Gram's argument as to how we should both go about being more adult and learning to be civil to each other in company," Malfoy sneers.
Fred starts to laugh at that. "You really do always have to pick a fight with just about everyone don't you Rosie?"
"She stuck me to this git all afternoon and is making me share a bed with him. Hell, she didn't even detach us so I could go to the bathroom by myself," I defend myself, "You'd be pissed off and wanting to pick a fight with her too."
"I told her that she isn't cute enough to get away with Little Person Syndrome," Malfoy chimes in annoyingly, making both Fred and Albus laugh.
"She really made you use the bathroom together? That's out of order," says Fred, "But you know how Gram gets when she's being irrational and trying to make a point. Maybe she figured that embarrassing the pants off both of you would make you less likely to fight in public."
I glance over at Malfoy and meet his eyes, shaking my head pityingly, "It's like she doesn't know us at all," I say sadly, still shaking my head. Fred quirks an eyebrow when that actually makes Malfoy laugh.
Scorpius's POV
I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on Rose Weasley. Standing on Platform 9 ¾ in my first year, hugging Mum and Dad goodbye and I suddenly saw her through the crowd. I'd never seen anyone like her before. She looked like some olden time Scottish princess with her wild hair and bright eyes, but she was so tiny. Eleven years old and barely pushing three and a half feet. Looking at her that first time with her rich red hair in corkscrew ringlets that fell to her arse and the shy smile she'd worn on her face, I remember thinking that she was cute and that she looked a wee bit fragile being so small, as though a strong breeze would knock her right over.
If I had known then what I do now, I would never for a second have though the word 'fragile' in reference to her. She's still tiny, but I should've realised that having such wild hair so young was a hint to represent the craziness and ferocious spirit contained in her tiny body. The best words to describe Weasley would have to be infuriating and indomitable. I would never admit that of course, if I had to say two words to describe her I'd say 'crazy bitch'. Both are apt descriptions, but the first one would stroke her ego.
But infuriating is the best word for her. I've never met anyone more capable of pushing my buttons. She does it just by being in the same room as me. Something about the way she glares at me and the way she is better in classes just drives me bonkers. She's always got to pick a fight with someone, and I have to admit, I enjoy it when it's me. I like a good battle of wits and Weasley is a fierce adversary. I've never met anyone as capable of carrying out an argument as Weasley, and I've never met anyone with such an indomitable spirit. She might only be wee, but she has the ferociousness of a lioness.
Since that day on the platform in first year, I've learned a lot about her. Like that she has a wicked right hook, and that no matter how hard I study, she will always beat me in classes. Being friends with Albus gave me a better look at whom and how she is, because I met both of her parents, both of them so fierce and intimidating. Her Mom with her intelligence and her beauty, which she clearly passed on; and her Dad with his Auror success and his Quidditch skills and sense of humour. What she said earlier is right, she really is like an exact mix of the two of them.
Because of that I have an understanding about why she is so competitive in everything she does, and why she likes to pull pranks. Even her itching to argue with people stems from the fact that her parents bicker so frequently. If I were a psychologist or psychiatrist I'd even suggest that bickering with people is how Weasley shows affection. But that would be silly since she has absolutely no affection for me and she fights with me more than anyone else in the world. Right from the off, me and Weasley were on the wrong foot. She thought I was muscling in and stealing her cousin's friendship, and I thought she was prejudice and hated me because of my family's name and reputation.
I suppose we were both right a little, but it escalated quickly. I don't think we got through one week of classes together before an argument turned into an outright duel. Being first years we didn't know many good hexes, and she knew more than me with all of her older cousins. Somehow we both wound up in the hospital wing for a week, and landed ourselves two weeks detention within the first month of our first year at Hogwarts. It was the start to a long and healthy hatred on both behalves.
I watch her as she shakes her head at me sadly about the fact that Mrs Weasley doesn't know us at all to have expected us not to fight, but I can't stop thinking about the coiling anticipation I felt in my stomach as she lingered with her lips millimetres from mine, straddling me as she paused just before that teasing little feather-light kiss she gave me. Part of me knows she was just reeling me in and probably would've slapped me or something afterwards, but let me tell you I have never been less pleased to see my best friend.
I have to laugh at the way she looks so pitying of her grandmother and when I see Fred frown curiously I remember that I'm not supposed to think Rose Weasley is funny. I'm not supposed to secretly like the way it feels to have her fingers interwoven with and glued to mine. I'm supposed to hate her and be wanting to crush her soul.
"It was foolish of her to think you two could ever get along," Al says, interrupting my thoughts, "I've been trying for years to get you to play nice or at least pretend you don't hate each other enough to keep from fighting."
I grin at him, not letting him or anyone else know how much I enjoy fighting with Rose. Fighting with her is exciting. Infuriating, and sometimes makes me want to rip her face off and drink the goo inside in a hulk-like rage, but exciting too. I love the way her blue eyes flash with anger and hatred, the way her curly hair seems to crackle with the intensity of her hatred for me, the way she gets so mad that she forgets she's a witch with a wand for doing magic and resorts to beating the hell out of me.
I have to give it to her. The first time she punched me I was surprised by the force of it. Who knew a little girl, less than four foot tall and so petite and tiny that she looked almost like a doll, would be able to pack enough of a punch to give me a black eye for two weeks? Since then I've toughened up a bit, so that most of her punches don't really hurt, they're just like an annoyance. Unless she lands them somewhere painful, like when she split my lip open earlier. She has an evil slap though. Nothing hurts more than being slapped by Rose Weasley. It's like an experience in pain ranging from stinging and throbbing, to a deep seated ache throughout my jaw and into my skull, giving me a wicked headache.
"You guys better hurry up and get this eaten. If Al and I get caught in here, especially after bringing you games and food, Gram will kill us," Fred says, watching as me and Rose scarf down the dinner we missed. Glancing at my watch I see it's almost midnight, and I suddenly feel grateful that he and Al stayed up long enough to bring us food, even if they did interrupt what was promising to be a sinful evening of snogging Rose Weasley senseless.
My knuckles throb angrily as I clench my fist around my fork, remembering the way it felt to have her rubbing herself against me. I've never come so close to hitting her as I did tonight. Even that night in fourth year, I was ready to kill her, but I never got to the point where my fist was in motion, flying towards her face. And after this afternoon when I pinned her to the garden shed and snogged her, that isn't good. Everything with Rose Weasley is physical. Even when she's arguing with me intellectually, she has this way of holding herself that makes me think of a Scottish princess all over again. Her hair is so wild, even when she controls it magically to keep it from being frizzy, and she has this way of holding her petite little body that is so incredibly self confident and self assured that it's sexual. When she crosses her arms in a fight, it somehow draws my attention to her breasts. When she sticks her tongue out at me, I think of how it feels when she snogs me furiously, and after a little while of arguing she always loses her temper and feels the need to hit me or try to tackle me.
And every time she does it, I get lost in the berry scent of her hair and the way her skin smells like cinnamon and rain. I especially love it when she wrestles with me like she did earlier when I pinned her to the couch, because it gives me an excuse to feel her petite little curves against me. Normally I can handle it for so long and then I snap sometimes with the need to hit her back, other times with the need to get my hands on her just so she'll stop watching me with her bedroom eyes. Snogging her like I did today should've placated the beast for a little while and yet not two hours later I was pinning her to the couch and the floor and my fist was actually in motion.
I'm not ashamed to admit that there is something about her that makes me want to slide her out of her clothes and pin her to every flat surface until she doesn't have the strength to even glare at me, but this is getting out of hand. In the past, snogging her was enough. Then we got drunk last year and had a fight, and before either of us knew it we were groping each other. But for some reason, I don't think even drunken, angry groping is going to be enough for much longer. She's filled out more this summer, her petite curves becoming more pronounced, her long hair looking more lustrous than ever. I've always liked her hair. It's so different from mine and so incredible to look at. I swear she could use it as a pillow there is so much of it. Thick and heavy and the deep dark red of sweet red wine or overripe cherries. The ringlets are perfect coils and when she moves, her whole head of hair moves with her. The curls ripple around her face making me think of that princess in the children's movie that came out a few years back. My little sisters are in love with it, the one with the princess and the evil bear. Rose looks just like the girl in the film. Her ringlets bounce when she walks, and swirl around her like this living thing. More than once when I get so frustrated at her that I can't keep from snogging her I've buried my hands in it, the ringlets wrapping around my fingers and my wrists as though trying to hold me there forever.
I blink when I realise I let my thoughts run away with me again and inconspicuously focus back on the conversation at hand. Hopefully everyone will just think I was intent on finishing my dinner….
"Anyway Rosie, we better sneak this stuff back down stairs before Gram does something crazy like comes to check that you two haven't killed each other. I have this awful feeling she's going to catch us on the stairs or something. Come on Al, let's see how sneaky we can be." Fred says as he takes my empty plate and piles it on the tray on top of Rose's.
"Thanks for feeding me Freddy," Rose says, smiling at her cousin adoringly. I roll my eyes at their friendship. They might be cousins and maybe since I don't have any first cousins I'm just not getting it, but from what I can tell, the rest of these people aren't as close as Weasley and Fred. It's more like they were dizygotic twins separated at birth rather than cousins.
"No worries kiddo," he replies to her, ruffling her already wild hair. She clambers off the bed and walks with him towards the door, towing me behind her. I smirk at Albus.
"Thanks for the food. Dunno why you bothered with the games, we'll just end up killing each other if we try and play them," I tell him. He laughs.
"Yeah, but maybe chess will make you cooperate. You're both too smart for your own good. I'd kind of like to know which one of you would win that game."
Albus grins at me before slipping through the door and off down the stairs. Fred pauses in the doorway, the trays of plates and cutlery hovering in front of him while he glares at me.
"Keep your hands off my cousin Malfoy," he threatens me softly, I roll my eyes at him and lift the arm that is attached to Weasley's.
"Kinda hard, mate," I reply dryly, opting for nonchalance in the face of his obvious suspicion.
"Yeah well, if I hear that you laid a hand on Rosie beyond that, you and I are going to get real acquainted… namely, your face with my fists." Fred says darkly, narrowing his gaze on me. I nod as though I take him seriously, even though I have every intention of getting hold of Weasley as soon as I'm sure Fred and Albus won't hear and won't be back to interrupt again.
"Night Rosie," Fred says after narrowing his eyes at me some more and I have to fight to keep the evil smirk of my face as Weasley beams at him, bids him goodnight and gently closes the door. The click of it being locked magically seems loud in the sudden silence with no one but me and Weasley left and my ears strain to listen to the sound of Fred's departing footsteps. Weasley is doing the same and when they die away as he moves far enough away I listen to her sigh explosively. Slowly she turns around, her mane of wild red hair swirling around her and across her face since she never parts it or styles it, just lets it fall wherever it wants from her crown.
"Why are you looking at me like that Malfoy?"She snaps, her eyes narrowing on me dangerously. I can't hold in my evil chuckle as my mind immediately jumps back to the feel of her straddling me, grinding against me, lingering so temptingly before that feather-light kiss. I can still feel it on my lips, like a whisper of wind, tingling in ways that it never has before. As I stare down at her I wonder what she sees on my face and in my eyes.
Can she see that I'm feeling the need to pin her to the door and snog her senseless? Can she see the way I have to clench my fists to keep my hands from trying to tunnel into her wild hair? Can she see it in my eyes that I've just realised that snogging her when I get mad isn't going to be enough anymore? And it isn't. Staring down at her, her blue eyes narrowed with hatred, I can feel that it's not going to be enough anymore. Not enough to keep from killing her, not enough to keep me from doing something stupid.
The trouble with being enemies with a girl so full of fire and passion and such an indomitable spirit, is that she is so incredibly infuriating. But as well as infuriating, every time I look at her lately, it's like I'm seeing that version of her from the platform in first year. Not that I think of her like she's still eleven, but more that over the summer while I've been staying with Al and hanging out with the Weasley's by extension, every now and then I catch a glimpse of her and for just a second my mind spits the word 'cute' at me.
"What's the matter Weasley?" I torment her when she tries to push past me, irritated with my lack of response to her question, "Don't you trust me?"
She scoffs at me, "Not as far as I could throw you."
"And here I'd heard you were thick in the head," I sneer.
"Bollocks you did," she replies, well aware of her own intelligence. "Why are you even talking to me? I thought we had a strict agreement not to speak to one another?"
"Funny, I thought we had one not to touch each other, yet every chance you get you just can't keep your hands off me, or you lips" I chuckle sinisterly, loving the way her anger flares to life so easily.
"Fuck you Malfoy," she growls at me angrily.
"Just can't stop offering yourself to me can you Weasley?"
I grin when she makes an angry little noise of frustration, unable to keep from chuckling since she has no idea what I'm about to do.
"Which part of keeping your hands off me and I hate you and you repulse me, was it that you had trouble comprehending?" She asks me with false sweetness.
"Probably the part where you voluntarily snog me on a regular basis, have a tendency to get drunk and grope me, and now apparently don't even need to get sloshed before you'll start grinding on me like a stripper giving a lap dance."
"Voluntary?" she snarls, "You're the one always shoving me into things and trying to suffocate me with whatever that pathetic excuse is for a kiss." She hisses into my face, stepping closer so she is nose to nose with me. Or at least she would be if she wasn't a foot shorter than me. I smirk at her, enjoying her anger, but also enjoying the berry scent of her hair as it seems to spark just a little with that familiar electricity and animosity.
"And yet we find ourselves right back here Weasley," I murmur to her, watching her eyes for any kind of reaction, "All you have to do is say yes. We both know you want me involved in your sex life… just say yes and all that sexual frustration you've got going on can be taken care of."
I fight not to groan when her hand connects with my cheek again, knowing that if she keeps it up I'll probably wind up with a damn bruise. Does is make me a sadist or a masochist that I enjoy it when she gets so mad that she loses it and tries to hurt me? I don't know which, all I know is that it's kind of exhilarating knowing you can push someone to lose it so easily. I watch the way she opens her mouth, no doubt to scream at me for being such an arsehole or a tosser or whatever insult she's playing with this week, but before she can get the words out, I seize hold of her tiny waist and spin her around so that she is tangled up in our joined arms.
She squawks indignantly when I grab hold of her and drag her backwards until her back is pressed against my front.
"Didn't I tell you not to hit me anymore?" I snarl into her ear even as my free hand slides beneath the hem of her night shirt to splay across the silky skin over her taut stomach.
Rose's POV
I bite my tongue on my gasp of surprise to suddenly find myself trapped between Malfoy and the door, not wanting to give him the satisfaction knowing how fast my heart is beating and not wanting to admit to myself how good his body feels pressed up behind me. I knew I shouldn't have hit him again, not after the incident earlier when he nearly broke my nose. He just makes me so angry! Who does he think he is to even talk about my non-existent sex-life? I stiffen when I realise he has his hand inside my shirt and try to wriggle in his grip when I feel it begin to move, creating a ticklish sensation that immediately makes me want to giggle.
"Fuck you, Malfoy" I snarl at him, trying to ignore the way his fingers are trailing so lightly across my stomach up upwards towards the lace of my bra. Quickly I seize hold of his wrist to try and stop him from tickling me this way, but it doesn't seem to faze him.
"Again with the offers Weasley?" he whispers into my ears and I stiffen even more at how husky his voice is, trying to focus on that rather than the way my stomach swoops into a somersault at the feel of his warm breath caressing the sensitive skin of my ear.
"It's almost like you're just begging for me to do this, but too afraid to actually admit it." He torments me sinfully, "Is that it Weasley? Too afraid to admit it? Too scared to face the fact that deep down, you want me?"
"You wish!" I bark, trying to ignore the quivers racing through me at the way his fingers begin to trail up onto the fabric of my bra. I bite my lip when I feel my skin tighten and the sensitivity of my body sky-rockets, making it so I can feel even the feather-light touch of his fingertips against the lace.
I gasp when his hand slides beneath the fabric of my bra, shocked by the tingly rush of desire and excitement that shoots through me at the feel of Malfoy's hand cupping my breast. My whole body quivers and I nearly choke on my tongue when he catches the tightened flesh between his thumb and forefinger and begins to roll it between them, stimulating the already sensitive skin until I feel like I'm going cross-eyed.
"I'm going to get you for this," I attempt to threaten him. Even I can hear the breathiness in my voice, and Malfoy chuckles into my ear at my pathetic excuse objection. We both know I'm not actually objecting, I'm just trying to hang onto the carefully constructed roles we've kept to, for the most part, up until now. The part of me that hates him is screaming that this is a terrible turn of events, but the rest of me, the part that doesn't really care who he is or how we hate each other is practically purring. It feels like my body is on fire and when Malfoy gently tweaks my breast, I can't silence the moan he elicits. Sweet Merlin, what if Dominique was right and part of the reason Malfoy and I constantly fight is the sexual tension? Because I feel like I'm choking on it even with his hands on me.
"You won't get me Weasley," he murmurs smugly into my ear, causing goosepimples to race across my skin as his lips brush against the sensitive shell tormentingly, "Not when you'd rather let me keep doing this to you."
"Why are you doing this?" I attempt to demand even though my breath hisses in through my teeth when he skims his hands over me again. Merlin, it feels good.
"I told you Weasley, I'm bored. Bored enough that playing with you seems like fun," he tells me, and I hate myself for the way my body has completely relaxed into his touch. I grit my teeth, trying to drive this need to feel like putty in his hands out of my mind. I realise it's pointless when he makes me moan again, feeling another wave of desire crash over me.
"But….why…. why are you…. Doing this?" I mumble at him between gasps as he alternates between rolling, gently tweaking, and flicking my over-stimulated flesh. I hiss when I feel his lips brush against my jaw just below my ear, trying to hold back the waves of desire and yearning for something I can't describe as my whole body goes into overdrive. My neck burns with the line of kisses he trails along my jaw and down the side of my throat, and my body throbs with the rapid pounding of my heart.
I'm so distracted by the kisses on my neck and the way it feels, that I almost don't realise what he's doing until I feel his hand smooth over my tightly strung body. My eyes fly open in surprise and I gasp in surprise.
"Shhh…." He murmurs to me between kisses on my skin, "I just want to see what happens."
I open my mouth again, trying to think of the words to object, to insiste we manintain the roles we've played until now, even though I really don't want to but I can't recall what order they're supposed to go in. Even as I do, his touch torments me and all that comes out of my mouth is one word, a low moaning 'yes' of permission and encouragement. I feel like I have no control over myself. What the hell is happening to me? Why is he doing this to me and more importantly, why am I letting him?
"Just relax Weasley," he murmurs as his hands find a rhythm against my skin. I feel like my knees are about to give out as the feelings racing through my veins take control, my heart is pounding and Malfoy takes no pity on my plight as I struggle for breath. I hiss when he goes back to kissing my neck even while he keeps at me with his hands.
I feel my thighs and stomach begin to tense up, as though the concentration of pleasurable feelings had been forwarded directly to the secret place beneath my abdomen and just when I think I can't take it anymore, something inside me seems to snap. I whimper as my system is flooded with endorphins.
When it's over, Malfoy slowly withdraws his hands from beaneath my shirt and I suddenly come to my senses again with the removal of his kisses and his touch.
"What the fuck was that?" I snarl at him, spinning out of his hold to glare up at him, hatred and confusion plain on my face. He looks intrigued and incredibly smug as he stares at me.
"And here I thought getting some would make you less feisty," he says, his eyes travelling over me, taking in the fact that my face is probably flushed with exertion and embarrassment, and my eyes are probably bright with anger even though I kind of feel sleepy and contented. He just grins at my expression, completely unrepentant and I feel my ever-ready temper boil over in my confusion at what has just happened between me and the person I hate more than anything else in the entire world. My punch lands on his jaw with a satisfying thud and I don't even care about how much it hurts my abused fist.
The smug smile disappears off Malfoy's face, replaced by irritation and an evil gleam in his eyes. I squeak in surprise when he shoves me back against the door and proceeds to pin me to it with his body, glaring down at me.
"Weasley how many times do I have to tell you to stop fucking hitting me?" he snaps, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" I snarl "You just….? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
"I didn't hear you objecting Weasley, and I gave you plenty of time to. In fact you damn well said yes. Besides, I know for a fact you enjoyed it so why the hell are you hitting me?"
I gape at him for a moment as though he has completely lost his mind, certain that he must have. Either that or I'm dreaming. Because in what word is it just something that happens that Scorpius sodding Malfoy not only voluntarily gropes me, but damn well does that and gets me off? What the hell is happening to the world?
"Because I fucking hate you!" I screech at him, probably loud enough for other people in the house to hear but right now I don't care. I don't give a damn if the entire world wakes up having to listen to me and Malfoy fight. The bastard just bloody well pleasured me!
"Don't scream, you'll wake everyone and then they'll come up here wanting to know why we're still up and why the hell you're screeching like a damn banshee," he scolds me like I'm a child.
"What the hell just happened?" I breathe, completely ignoring him as I try to make sense of this even though he has me pinned to the door and I can feel how much he enjoyed watching me get off. I don't know how to cope with this and it's even worse that I can't get away from him…. I've never done that with anyone and he bloody well just did it to me….. I just hit third base with my arch nemesis! I mean, the first time I got to first base it was because of bloody Malfoy, and I'm pretty sure that second base was with Malfoy for the first time too. Obviously I've been to first and second base with people other than him, since snogging and a little groping is a fun way to celebrate a win in Quidditch, but until just now I'd never been to third.
I glare up at Malfoy as he watches me, once again wearing that intrigued expression as though I'm some fascinating painting or something. I don't care what he says or damn well does, there is no way I will ever be hitting a home run with Malfoy! Not happening people! I'm so never sleeping with this arsehole, no matter how good it would probably feel. Wait… what the hell brain? Just because we've admitted he's a decent kisser does not mean we can go around spouting nonsense that Malfoy might be decent between the sheets. Even if he did just give me my first orgasm!
FUCK!
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I whisper at him angrily, scowling my hatred at him. "Why can't you just keep your damn hands to yourself? What the hell would possess you to do what you just did to me? You're supposed to hate me so stop damn well kissing me and touching me and don't you ever lay a fucking finger on me ever again, Malfoy. I don't care if you are fucking obsessed with me, I detest you with every fibre of my being and if I could get away with it I'd bloody murder you right now!"
He just stands there while I yell at him in a whisper, still watching me like I fascinate him.
"You know…." He begins, "For a girl who just got some, you seem awfully pissed at me," he says nonchalantly, "I feel sorry for whichever poor suckers you con into bed with you because apparently you are completely insatiable. What's wrong with you Weasley? I've never seen a girl get off like you just did and then be so ungrateful as to throw a punch."
I narrow my eyes at him for trying to change the damn subject "Maybe if you weren't bloody well useless, I wouldn't be so pissed at you. Or maybe, I don't take kindly to being touched like that by the person I want to murder. Did you consider that possibility before you stuck your damn hands under my clothes? That maybe I'd rather die sexually frustrated than ever have you lay a hand on me."
"Useless?" he scoffs at me, "Weasley, you can lie to me all you want about whether or not you want me involved in your sex life, but don't bother trying to lie about the fact that I just completely rocked your world."
I scoff at him, too angry to form sentences as I shove him away from me and drag him across the room towards the bed. I need to lie down and I need to turn the fucking light off because I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment to know that the one person I hate most in the entire world has pleasured me, and knows that he did it well because apparently I have absolutely no self control and couldn't just grit my teeth or maybe, I don't know, fucking object. What the hell is wrong with me? I mean, fuck him for doing it in the first place, but why the hell didn't I try to stop him?
Bloody hell, what if Dominique's right? What if me and Malfoy do argue so much because of the sexual tension? But it can't be…. Malfoy said just before that whenever he snogs me it's to keep from killing me when we argue and fight….
"So eager to get me to bed Weasley?" Malfoy says smugly. I stop dead and spin on my heels to face him. He is still walking forwards so he walks right into the punch that I land on his lip.
A/N: Look Cherubs! Edited sections! Aren't you excited for more. I'm going to be changing things up on y'all too, just FYI!