When Rose stirred awake the following morning she was instantly mortified as the memories of the previous night flooded into her consciousness. I'm a bloody wanker! A complete dolt. She craned her neck to read the display of her Muggle electronic clock. 7:00 a.m. She groaned in frustration and self-loathing and threw the heavy comforter off of her body. She continued to lay still for a few more moments as she gathered the energy to rise from the overly comfortable bed.
Finally, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed her face with her hands. I'm going to have to face him eventually, I can't hide out in my room forever…or can I? She considered this as an option, but resolved by giving another huff of breath before standing to take a shower.
It took Rose thirty minutes to shower, cast a drying spell on her hair, put a slight amount of make up on, and dress herself in a pair of dark muggle skinny jeans and a form fitting black tank top. She glanced at herself in the mirror and compared how her body had changed since she last saw Scorpius. He didn't know this curvy, woman-like, version of her body. She suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious about his opinion of her new body, of her new life, of the new her.
Rose was rarely an uncertain person, but when it came to Scorpius Malfoy she felt anything but certain. The constant over analyzing function of her brain seemed to be working on over drive. But then again, that's how her brain had always been around him.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the impending interaction with him, and pushed the room to her door open. She was relieved to find that he hadn't yet woken up. She set to making tea and muffins the Muggle way to pass time.
At half past 9 in the morning Scorpius made his way to the living room with lethargic steps. She could tell by his wet hair that he had taken a shower and hadn't bothered with a drying charm. Damn, why does he have to be so bloody good looking. She felt nervous tension in the pit of her stomach and suddenly wondered if the awkwardness between them would ever settle. She hated it more than anything.
She wasn't sure if she should mention what happened the night prior or pretend that it never happened. After all, they both had a habit of pretending that certain things never happened. She decided this time she would take a leap of faith and try to apologize for her utterly horrid behavior.
"So…about— "they both said at the same time, neither one finished what they were going to say. Caught off guard by their synchronicity Rose smiled sheepishly and Scorpius bashfully averted his gazed to the floor. They didn't need to finish the conversation, that was enough confrontation for the both of them.
"It's Sunday, so I'm going into town to meet Lysander for tea," she stated hesitantly.
His face was set into a hard line. "I'll just be working on my report most of the day," he replied as he dragged his hand through his wet blond locks of hair.
After a brief pause he added, "are you and Lysander…." but before he could finish his sentence Rose cut him off with a chuckle.
"No, no… we're strictly friends who happen to live in the same secluded English territory."
"I always got the feeling Luna dreamed of having you as her daughter in law."
She shot him a suspicious glance at his questioning of her love life. She desperately wanted to change the subject away from her potential marital partners. Rose was suddenly affronted by a memory from 7th year. She had found an utterly intoxicated (and adorable, she might add) Scorpius in the astronomy tower— where he declared boldly that if they both weren't married by the time they were 30 that he would marry her. She had frantically tried to quiet him as he yelled his declaration from the top of the tower. That was certainly one of the only times he ever referenced a serious future between the two of them, even if it was in jest. Surely he doesn't remember that conversation, he was piss drunk that night. He never even brought it up again anyway…
"Do you need anything from the shops while I'm in town? You can use my desk for writing your report, you'll find all the quills and parchment you need in the drawer," she said motioning to her white marble desk across the room.
He nodded thankfully, "I don't think I'll need anything from town."
"I'll be off then. Feel free to make yourself at home… you know where the kitchen is. Being here alone… I mean, the seclusion of this place can get to you if you aren't used to it…"
"I'm sure I'll manage," he muttered curtly. Though he immediately regretted taking that tone with her.
She was so confused by his constantly changing attitude between stoic and friendly. He was completely unreadable. It was as if he couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to put up gigantic barriers between them or try and pick up their "friendship" where it had left off.
She grabbed a handful of floo powder and disappeared without another word—she didn't think she could summon the energy to make it through one more excruciatingly awkward exchange with him. Moments later she appeared in the tea shop that she and Lysander frequented. She breathed a sigh of relief at his familiar face. It was a much needed break from the mounting tension taking place inside her home.
She wistfully sat down at their usual table. The look on her face must have given her away because Lysander immediately picked up on her change in temperament.
"Uh oh," he said. "I know that look, what's going on?"
Her eyes threatened to fill with hot tears, they stung in the corner of her eyes. Her lip quivered ever so slightly but she willed herself not to have a break down in the middle of the shop. Instead she shook her head as she stirred sugar into the tea Lysander had already ordered for her. She took a deep breath in anticipation of telling him about her newfound visitor.
"You're really never going to believe what I'm about to tell you, it's absolutely top secret Ministry business –you can't tell a single soul."
Lysander silently held up his right hand, palm facing her, as if taking a vow. His eyes intently studying her face.
"Scorpius Malfoy is back, and he's momentarily living with me in hiding under ministry orders." Rose paused to take in his reaction. At first Lysander didn't move a muscle, but then he dropped the hand he was holding up and suddenly his mouth broke into a huge grin.
"Rose! It's fate!" he squealed in utter delight. She pointedly rolled her eyes at him.
"Lysander, I don't have time for your romanticism at a time like this! It's the most awkward thing I've ever experienced. And that's including the time in 6th year that Scorpius and I were caught shagging on the beach of the Black Lake by Neville!"
He paid her no attention and giddily clapped his hands together. "Oooh! This is right out of a Muggle movie. Estranged lovers get thrown together as steamy roommates in an unexpected – yet, improbable— situation. The sexy spy and the…hermit," he made arching hand motions in front of him as if laying out the scene.
She scoffed in offense.
"I am NOT a hermit!"
"Says the woman who barely leaves her freaking house but once a week to pay a visit to her dear old friend," he said as he batted his eyelashes at her.
"You're missing the point, Lysander!" she had to mentally keep her volume in check as not to draw attention to their table. "He can barely even look at me. Our conversations are so formal they sound like practice conversations out of a fucking "Learn English" lesson book. There is so much goddamn tension I feel like I'll burst!"
"Yeah, sexual tension," he said as he waggled his eyebrows at her. She huffed in annoyance.
"You know, why am I even your friend? You're mental."
"Because I'm gorgeous and you love me!" He exclaimed confidently.
"He asked me if you and I were dating," she said with a smirk.
He laughed offensively loud at her statement.
"You act like it's entirely out of the realm of possibility. What? You wouldn't date a hermit like me?"
"Love, I'm laughing because it is entirely out of the realm of possibility. Not because you're a hermit—which you are—but, because you don't have the necessary... hardware to satisfy me."
She grimaced and waved her hand dismissively.
"What am I going to do, you git? Harry didn't specify how long this situation would take place. I don't know a single thing about what sort of spy stuff he's been doing for the past three years. Most importantly, I have no idea how he feels about me anymore. Do I just forget about everything that has happened between us? Do we try and be friends?"
She was out of breath by the end of her rambling and Lysander gazed at her with his signature smug look.
"First off all, calling me a git isn't going to help you earn my best advice," he said mockingly. "And secondly, I've been listening to you mope about this guy for YEARS! So you have to understand how this is an exciting opportunity to rid myself of that duty." Rose just glared at him haughtily. He took a sip of tea and then added suggestively, "so…has three years turned him into a man?" She couldn't fight the compulsive smirk that came with his question.
"You can't even imagine!" She said with a playful eye roll.
"Oh, I can imagine, Rose!" He said in a tone that dripped with sexual innuendo.
She playfully slapped at his hand.
In an uncharacteristically serious tone Lysander said, "Here's what you do. We go shopping and get you a drop dead gorgeous outfit that he won't be able to resist. Then, you let me do something with that hair of yours…" Rose shot him an icy glare. "Lastly, you grab some Chinese take away and a movie and bring it home to him as a way to break the ice and show that you want to be friends."
She considered what he said for a moment and nodded. It does sound like a good plan. Subtle seduction and a possible way to ease into a non-awkward friendship with him.
"Okay."
"Okay?" He asked incredulously. "Since when do you ever willingly go along with my plans, Rose Weasley? Are you ill?"
She gave him a simple shrug, "Since I'm all out of good ideas when it comes to Scorpius. This has been an 8-year battle that neither one of us has ever seemed to win."
"Maybe that's your problem. If you think of it as a 'battle' then you're always going to have barriers. You're both guilty of emotionally and mentally torturing each other over the years. A long history can't be healed overnight." She was taken aback by his insight. Maybe I play the victim too often when it comes to Scorpius. Maybe I haven't taken enough blame for our state of affairs. She bit her plump lower lip and didn't break her moment of outward silence.
"Look, I'll close the bookstore for the rest of the day. Let's just have a girls pamper day to help relax you. Then you'll be ready to go back and face him this evening. You know that eventually you both need to have a long serious discussion, which I know neither one of you are particularly fond of doing. The sooner you get it out of the way the better," he said with exasperation. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "children, I swear".
By 4 p.m. that evening Rose was standing in front of Lysander's floo preparing to go back and face Scorpius. She and Lysander had spent the rest of the day at their favorite spa being pampered. Rose was feeling elated by the lovely day that they had spent together. Her skin was glowing from her facial, her nails were perfectly manicured with red polish to match her hair, her hair was charmed to fall down her back in perfectly silky smooth waves, and she sported a new sexy but casual outfit picked out by Lysander. Rose wasn't often a materialistic girl, but she had desperately needed something to take her mind off of her anxieties surrounding Scorpius' arrival.
With the Chinese take away and a bag of Muggle DVD's in hand she flooed back to her home, her stomach did rapid somersaults—which she knew better than to attribute to travelling via floo. Upon her arrival she was greeted to the sounds of Bruce Springsteen's Greatest Hits album playing loudly on the record player. She observed Scorpius as he furiously scribbled on a piece of parchment at her desk with his back to her.
She fought off a smile at the memory of them blasting the track Spirit in the Night by Springsteen while they flew on his broom past curfew during their 5th year. Rose was suddenly hit by an odd feeling—akin to nostalgia, but slightly different. This moment—her bringing dinner and a movie home while he listened to music while working—was something she had daydreamed about back in their Hogwarts days. Of course, in that daydream they were happily in a relationship, what was happening currently was anything but an ideal situation. Her smile vanished, but she put on a brave face.
Rose set down the Chinese food and movies on the living room table and walked over to the record player to pick the needle up and stop the music. The sudden silence didn't break his concentration from his work. He was hyper focused on writing his report and she had the strongest urge to read what he was writing—to have any sort of insight about his absence.
"Scorpius," she called.
Startled, he looked over to her.
"Oh. I didn't hear you come in."
"Clearly."
His eyes blatantly looked up and down her form as he cataloged the changes in her appearance from that morning. Of course a fucking SPY wouldn't let the small details get by him. Her face reddened but she decided to ignore his gaze.
She worked up the courage to invite him to join her in eating and watching a film.
"So…I…Uhh…" she spluttered. "I picked up some Chinese take away and a film, if you want to join me." She motioned to the sofa.
He considered her offer for a moment, looking down at his work to calculate his progress. She held her breath as he mentally made his decision, suddenly she worried that he might decline her offer—she hadn't thought about that possibility yet.
"That sounds nice," he said decidedly. He vanished his papers and stood up—she couldn't help but watch as he reached his arms over his head to stretch out his back from sitting at the desk all day. She admired his thick muscles that she longed to run over and touch. Stay focused, Rose. He caught her eye and she swore before she looked away she saw the corner of a smirk appear on his lips.
He made his way over to the couch and plopped down. "What film?" He asked casually.
"I brought a couple choices," she replied hesitantly. "Go ahead and look through them and choose one. Wine?" She asked.
"Sure, a red if you have it, please."
"I know," she said simply as she turned around to grab the bottle and two glasses from the kitchen.
She came and sat next to him on the plush white couch as he considered the movie options. For a fleeting moment she felt the comfort that she used to find in their interactions with one another. However, their proximity was making her feel slightly dizzy. She had never been able to control the reaction her body has for him. It was a dizzying and warm reaction reserved just for him.
He chose The Big Lebowski and she smiled at his choice. Using her wand, she popped the disc into the DVD player as her large projection screen slowly descended from the ceiling. As the opening movie trailers played they dished out their food in silence. She wasn't sure what to say, and apparently he didn't either. Rose silently cursed Lysander for coming up with this idea. This ice is going to be harder to break than I expected. She poured them both generous glasses of wine. There, that ought to help. Surprisingly Scorpius broke their silence first.
"You know, this most certainly isn't Chinese food," he said with no discernible mood.
She rolled her eyes at him. "We all know that, but this is about as authentic as if gets in these parts." Rose clammed up at his reference to his time spent in China. For some reason that topic terrified her—but at the same time she was curious to know what he experienced there, but was also slightly worried he experienced something that changed his life…something was definitely different about him.
"So how was your day with Lysander?" He asked in a sudden change of topic as he swished his wine around in his glass impulsively. "Did you do plenty of gossiping about me?"
Rose was caught off guard by his question. She responded by arching her eyebrow at him and giving him a sidelong glance. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied as she took another bite of her stir-fry.
She took a large gulp of wine as her throat had suddenly become dry. As if on cue the main menu to the DVD came onto the screen and she hit play as quickly as possible to avoid the rest of their conversation. I can't keep running away from confrontation. Lysander's words about "sooner rather than later" replayed in her head. For now, she was fine leaving things how they were.
They both ate their food and drank their wine in silent contentedness as they watched the film. The atmosphere slowly relaxed around them as they both became more accustom to being together after three years of separation. So much uncertainty still lingered between them. As far as Rose was concerned, this was still a huge step in the right direction if they were going to make living together work—even if it felt a bit awkward and contrived.
She wrapped herself in her grandmother's large quilt and laid to side to rest her head on the couch arm. Her toes were nearly four inches from touching Scorpius' thigh and they were both acutely aware of the distance between them. The mixture of pampering, wine, a fully belly, and the rare comfort of having companionship made her eyelids heavy. The next time that he glanced over at her she was fast asleep.
Unsure if he should leave her on the couch or not he decided it best to bring her to her room. He easily scooped up her small frame in his arms and carried her to her bedroom where he gently laid her down on the bed. He looked for any signs of her waking up, but she stayed peacefully asleep.
He took this moment to really look at her face for the first time since his arrival. He hadn't had the courage yet to look her boldly in the face. Truthfully—he felt a lot of guilt and other repressed feelings for the way things were left between them before he went to China. He had resolved to keep her at a distance until he could work through those emotions.
The silky waves of her long hair were framing her sleeping face—he observed the traits about her face that he had always found the most beautiful, he decided they were now slightly aged in the perfect way; the long dark eyelashes of her closed eyes, her wide rosy cheeks, her small button nose, her pouty pink lips, and her angled chin.
He made sure the blanket covered her and in a moment of weakness placed a small kiss in the center of her forehead before retreating to his own room.