Seventh Year
"Allergies ruin lives."
The Heads' door swung open. Apparently Rose hadn't changed the password in the few hours he'd been away as she was so prone to doing.
"Honey, I'm ho-o-ome!" he sing-songed, directing his words at her room.
Rose appeared in her doorway. "Merlin, Scorp, I need good news right now."
Resisting the urge to smirk (because then she would win), he chose to ignore the jibe. "Oh Godric, what's got Rosie's knickers in a twist?"
She fell onto her designated armchair with a huff.
"Rosie's knickers are in a twist because her dear cousin Al just concussed himself at Quidditch practice."
Several thoughts flashed in his head, amusement not the least of them.
"Albus's gotten himself into worse scrapes than that. He'll be fine."
Rose rolled her eyes in that infuriating way that meant he was supposed to be able to read her mind. "He'll be fine, to be sure. However, he will not be fine in time for the game this weekend."
Scorpius's eyes widened. "The game this weekend … against Ravenclaw."
"Well done, captain. Should anyone try and accuse you of not knowing your own game schedule, I'll be sure to correct them."
"Much obliged. But what does that mean for the game? Surely he's the only real seeker talent Gryffindor's got."
Rose shot him a blazing stare. "First of all, you're the enemy and foolish to think I'd divulge any of our secrets. Second of all, no, he is certainly not the only seeker talent in our house. We'd be a sorry lot if we couldn't replace a player with a decent fill-in."
"Oh come off it. No one in Gryffindor's half as good as Albus. And since when did you care so much about the fate of the team anyway? You've never shown any signs of being a Quidditch aficionado before."
"No one's half as good as Albus, true. But we have plenty still better than your seeker. And I'm a bigger Quidditch fan than you might think."
Scorpius scoffed loudly. "Dream on, Weasley. We had this win in the bag, anyway. But with your lead player out of commission? You don't stand a chance."
He didn't like the expression on her face. Mysterious smile still in place, she stood wordlessly and swept from the room.
"Scorpius-1, Rose-0," he called at her retreating back, but she did not turn around.
No matter. He didn't have any complaints about the view he now had of her wild head of hair swinging in time to the swaying of her hips.
That Friday, the weather could not have been more ideal. The sky was clear, blue and windless. The sun was shining, but the heat was not cumbersome. Scorpius felt all the confidence of a Quidditch captain facing off against a team that had lost their star player.
"All right, team. There's nothing to worry about today without their captain and seeker. And even if he had been playing, we've always been a superior team overall. Just play to each of the strengths we've talked about, don't let the sun impair your vision, and, if you mess up, shake. It. Off. Don't let it mess with your head."
Their return stares betrayed nothing of how much they were listening.
"All right, team. Let's get out there."
They filed to the pitch, Scorpius craning to see who the replacement seeker would be. Olive Thomas, gangly as she was, blocked his view from the rest of the team. She had obviously taken Al's head place as captain.
He strode over to shake her hand but, mid-march, he came to a sudden halt. Rose. Rose was in the Gryffindor team line up.
"Scorp!" someone hissed from behind him.
He startled back to reality, trying to play it cool as he finished the walk to face Olive.
By the crushing handshake she delivered, he sensed no insecurity about their abilities on her part.
Rose. Rose on the Quidditch field. He couldn't believe it, shooting the girl in question a bemused glance. She met it with a saucy wink.
Bloody woman.
"We've got this, team!" Scorpius shouted, and took his place in front of the Quidditch rings.
The competition was fierce. The Gryffindors were at their best, paying attention to every detail. The same could not be said for Scorpius. He was being very attentive to detail, yes, but hardly at all in relation to the game.
Rose bleeding Weasley was the most captivating creature he had ever laid eyes on. He now understood exactly what the mysterious look was about. Her skill on a broom was undeniable. Albus, admittedly, had more talent as a seeker. But her grace was unsurpassed. The moment she mounted her broom, tossing her long, braided hair over one shoulder, to now, as she circled the pitch in slow, gentle circles, Scorpius was completely bewitched. Her eyes – sharp, sparkling and blue – swept the sky easily. Her posture was confident but ever at the ready. The few curls that had come loose framed her face, fluttering every so often in the breeze. Her smile, though reserved, was relaxed and assured. She was truly –
"Gryffindor's Lily Potter scores against the apparently unprotected Ravenclaw goal post! Malfoy's looking confunded up there! What's the matter, cap'n?"
Scorpius blinked, sharply returning to the game. What in Merlin's name had he been thinking? Cursing himself, he directed his attention to the Gryffindor chasers. He had left a goal wide open. How blasted dense could he be? He would not lose focus again.
And then she would fly passed, hair rippling, freckles accentuated perfectly by her clear, perfect skin.
Scorpius let in two more quaffles.
It was almost a relief when Rose – previously indifferent, inexperienced Rose – caught the snitch. He didn't know how much more torture he could be subjected to without cracking altogether. He thought, after nearly two years of having much more than platonic feelings for her, that he could control himself around Rose Weasley. Apparently he was wrong.
He barely heard the shout of, "GRYFFINDOR WINS!" or the crowd's uproar. He didn't hear the comforting words murmured by his teammates or the pointed jabs directed by some of Gryffindor's team. Everything in the world was Rose, and he pushed his way through the crowd to get to her, never losing track of her fiery plait.
Finally, here she was, turning to face him, a smug grin on her face and an assuredly cutting remark on the tip of her tongue.
He never got to hear what it was.
Rose's lips were soft – so soft, and sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. Neither of them were holding brooms anymore but, as she flung her arms around him, he could still feel the fluttering snitch's wings against his neck. His hands were clutched her to him and wonderfully – miraculously – she was allowing it.
He might even go so far as to say she was encouraging it.
Most enthusiastically.
Then, the Universe began to shift. At first it was almost imperceptible, but, after a few moments, Scorpius was quite sure of it. Everything had tilted just a few degrees, and now he understood the meaning of painting the world with a rosy glow. Things were warmer, lighter, happier and infinitely more beautiful.
Scorpius never wanted to stop kissing her. However, a distraction came in the form of her inability to keep a straight face. She broke free to let out a laugh she had obviously been holding in. The more she tried to temper it, though, the worse it got, until they both threw their heads back and laughed with abandon.
The crowd around them was mostly silent, partly tittering, partly laughing with them. But the crowd around them was really rather inconsequential at the moment.
Their arms didn't leave each other, but Rose pulled her hands forward to examine the snitch.
"I plan on keeping this," she said, leaning into Scorpius's chest.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. As a reminder of the day I squashed you in Quidditch and you kissed me for it."
Scorpius groaned, placing his forehead against hers. "You drive me absolutely barmy."
"Well, you have utterly no effect on me, so I suppose I'm still two steps ahead of you."
"No effect?"
"None to be heard of."
"Ah. I see." His lips found her jawline, beginning at her ear, trailing down to her chin. He felt her heart speed up, just as he'd planned. "Well that, my friend, is a pity." He pressed his lips to hers again, sucked lightly on them. "Because you have affected me most thoroughly."
Her breath was labored, her eyes fluttering …
Scorpius had every reason to believe that he'd won.
Then, she pulled away. That didn't feel triumphant in the slightest.
"Maybe we could talk about this some other time? There's a victory party for Gryffindor today, and I'm afraid it's being held right now. I'm terribly sorry to hear about your affected state." She sauntered away.
Obviously Rose thought that he would chase her.
And, when he thought about it logically, what was stopping him?
Rose never made it to that victory party. She didn't mind in the slightest.