A/N: Six days since the last update? Eh, not bad. Not great, but not bad. Sorry for the wait, you guys! I've been on spring break this last week, and though it was lots of fun, it was also incredibly busy! Anyways, here's the next installment! Loves!


"Some pray to marry the man they love. My prayer will somewhat vary: I humbly pray to heaven above that I love the man I marry."

-Anouk Aimee


The first thing I notice when I wake up is that my head really hurts. Like, hangover kind of pain, except I'm pretty sure I didn't have more than one drink last night.

The second thing I notice is that I still have my dress on. Joy.

I open my eyes slowly, surprised to find that I'm in Scorpius' and my bed. My shoes are on the floor, and I see my clutch resting on the bedside table. The soft, muted light coming in from the window tells me that it's still very early in the morning, no later than six. Groaning, I try to roll over and sleep some more, but in the process, I become aware of a slight weight over my middle.

It's an arm. Scorpius' arm, to be precise. Turning my head slightly, I see him fast asleep beside me, still in his dress robes. His hair is adorably mussed, and his face is gentle and relaxed. I realize that I've never seen Scorpius this way. The past two mornings, he's always woken up before me, and been dressed and put together. I smile, glad I've been able to see him without his walls and subtle bravado.

As I watch him sleep, a warm glow seems to envelop me, and I find myself smiling softly. Impulsively, I snuggle closer to him, watching his face. For a split second, I think I see him smile, but I'm sure I've just imagined it. I sigh contentedly, relishing in the warmth, and soon fall back to sleep.


"Rose. Rose, it's time to wake up."

"Mmm," I groan, shaking my head. "Five more minutes."

Scorpius laughs. "You said that five minutes ago."

I frown, still not opening my eyes. "I did?"

"Yes, you did. And five minutes before that, as well. It's really time to get up now."

"Oh, fine," I say, then commence grumbling under my breath as I open my eyes and slowly sit up. "Damn mornings, always come too soon..."

Still laughing, Scorpius sits on the edge of the bed beside me. I notice that he's changed clothes and brushed his hair already. Of course. I smile inwardly at the memory of seeing him not so tidy earlier. I think I like him best that way.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, his face more somber now.

My face warms. "A little." I chew on my lip, and finally meet his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For last night," I say quietly, looking down at my hands. "I made a fool of myself, of you, of the whole Malfoy family, all in less than thirty seconds."

"It doesn't matter."

My eyes snap back to him in surprise. "What?"

"Dad's having a meeting with the editor of the Prophet now. I explained the situation to him. He knows what a prat Zabini is. He's trying to convince them to print an article about what actually happened, even if it's just a few paragraphs. I doubt they will, but if nothing else, they won't be putting out any more stories about last—"

"Any more stories?" I repeat apprehensively.

He sighs. "The Prophet had an entire section dedicated to the ball. One full page is about you and me... particularly your little... outburst."

"Bugger."

"Don't worry about it," he says reassuringly. "It's not important."

"But the whole purpose of our marriage was to help clear the Malfoy name, to win over the Ministry, not to make a complete and total mockery of your family! Instead of helping, I've just made things worse." New tears begin to blur my vision, and I close my eyes in shame.

"Rose, look at me." Reluctantly, I do so, and find him closer. My heart jumps in my chest, and I swallow thickly. "It's not your fault. Zabini's a prick, and you reacted in a typical manner. Like you said, there's nothing wrong with showing your emotions."

I feel myself blushing. "There is when doing so ends up causing a riot and spurring people into making venomous remarks."

"To hell with them," he says bitterly, and I nearly gasp aloud at his boldness. "They aren't worth getting so upset over. Yes, this will make things a little more difficult, but you know what?" He leans closer, smirking. "I'm pretty sure every person in that room was secretly thrilled to see someone finally tell that bastard off."

My expression matches him, and I giggle quietly. "And let me tell you, it felt so damn good to do it."

He grins. "There, see? You're going to be just fine."

"What about you? Will you be fine?"

"Everything will be fine," he assures me. "You don't need to worry."

"I'm a girl," I say seriously. "It's what we do."

"I thought shopping and making light-hearted quips was what girls do."

"That too."

Scorpius laughs, then stands up. "You'd better get dressed. We have to get going."

I frown up at him. "Where?"

He smirks, one eyebrow quirking up. "You'll see."

With that, he turns around and walks out of the room. I smile to myself, excited and nervous at the same time, wondering what he has planned. Well, I'll never find out if I don't get ready. I stand up and walk over to my wardrobe, and find a pair of white shorts, with a blue and purple belt, and match it with a sky-blue tank top. I don't have any blue flip flops, so I settle for a black pair. Then, brushing quickly through my hair, I grab my wand and head downstairs.

Scorpius grins at me as I skip down the steps. "Ready?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Where are we going?"

"Patience, grasshopper," he says, surprising me with a Muggle television reference.

"If you think I'm going to start calling you 'Master Po,' you've got another thing coming, Sparky."

He glances sideways at me, smirking, but says nothing. Motioning with his hand for me to follow him, he leads me into a large study. Almost half of the far wall is taken by a grand fireplace, large enough to step into. Resting on the heart is a decorative crystal jar filled with powder, which I instantly recognize.

"We're flooing?" I ask.

"It's too far to apparate, and I don't trust portkeys."

"You're so weird."

"Why, thank you."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head, but allow him to lead me to the fireplace. He opens the jar, tosses some of the powder into the fireplace. Subtle, barely-smoldering green flames flicker within the hearth, licking the smoke-stained brick, and Scorpius says, "Le Grande Chateau de Malfoy!" causing the flames to triple in size.

"Go on," he whispers, and I cautiously step into the green fire. When I land, I find myself in a small, yet picturesque cottage. Grande Chateau? I muse wryly, taking in my surroundings. A moment later, though, I'm startled from my thoughts by the entrance of a short, stout man with a few wisps of white hair on his head. His eyes twinkle with excitement.

"Ah, you must be the new Mrs. Malfoy!" he greets with a French accent.

"Er... yes?" I say uncertainly.

Chuckling, the man holds out one hand, showing five very stubby fingers. After a moment, I remember myself, and shake the hand graciously. "I'm André."

"Rose," I provide.

A moment later, the sound of the fire alerts me to Scorpius' arrival. He grins at the old man, forgoing the handshake and pulling him into a hug. I can't help but watch on in surprise; I've never seen Scorpius show his affection so openly.

"André," he grins, "cela fait si longtemps. Comment êtes-vous?"

Oh, goody. Now they're speaking in French. Just parfait.

As I wait for them to include me in the conversation (and switch to English), I let my eyes wander, and the view outside the window catches my eye. In the distance, I can see a long, winding cobblestone path, leading up to what looks like a garden. But before I can step closer, to see more of the garden, Scorpius calls my name.

"Mmm?" I respond, turning my head to look at him.

He grins, and I note that André is now going about his business. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" I ask, getting impatient.

His grin widens. "You'll see. Oh, but before you do..."

An instant later, my vision is suddenly impeded by a thick, folded cloth. "What—I—Scorpius! How the hell am I supposed to see with this infernal thing over my eyes?"

"Just wait," he chuckles.

I sigh and grumble under my breath for a moment, about "stupid cloths" and "I can't bloody see anything," and "pratty husbands," not bothering to hide my annoyance.

"I heard that. Just relax. You'll see soon enough."

The next moment, I feel the rough, somewhat calloused skin of his hand on mine, and my breath hitches. For some reason, having my eyesight temporarily taken from me has enhanced our bond. I can feel that sweet, glowing warmth, and more than that, I can sense his mounting excitement. The connection seems to grow stronger, and for a split second, I remain still, staggered by the unexpected change.

Scorpius leads me along, and I register the rise in temperature as we move from inside the cottage to just outside. A few seconds later, he helps me up into what I can only assume is a carriage, and we begin moving. Neither of us speak, but I'm sure my impatience and anxiety are coming off me in waves, just as his enthusiasm is radiating from him. After some time, the carriage comes to a halt, and Scorpius helps me out. I allow him to steer me, his hands on my shoulders, before almost too soon (because oh, his hands feel good), he stops me.

"Ready?" he whispers close to my ear, his breath tickling my skin. I suppress a shiver, and merely nod. Then, he removes the blindfold, and I gasp.

We're standing at the end of the path I'd seen earlier, which lead not only to the garden I'd also noticed, but to a beautiful, Victorian-style mansion. I have to turn my head from side to side just to take it all in. The house is made from a light, taupe-colored brick, with turrets and gables and shining windows. Surrounding the house, the garden gleams with life and light, dotted with brightly-colored flowers of every size, shape, and scent. I recognize a few—roses, petunias, bluebells—but there are many others that I'm unfamiliar with. The path winds around the house, and around a large, ornamental fountain in the front. With the brilliant, azure sky as a backdrop, and birds chirping happily, I'm convinced this place is paradise.

"What...?" I begin, but my voice tapers off before I can finish.

"It's one of our estates. We have five in all. The Manor in England, this one, a villa in Greece, one in Cairo, and a mansion on Fifth Avenue in New York."

"Five estates?" I repeat shakily.

"Mm-hmm," he confirms. "Right now, we're in Marseilles, about twenty minutes from the city. It's very secluded, so there's no chance of Muggles accidentally stumbling in on us. André is an old family friend, he's been the manager of this estate for years."

Something clicks in my brain. "This is where your father was last night."

"Yes. He had some business with André."

I nod absently, unable to come up with any further response. I stare dumbly at the glorious house before me, and he laughs softly beside me. "I take it you like it?"

"Oh, yeah," I breathe, smiling.

"Come on," he says, placing his hand on the small of my back. "Let's go inside."


After a tour of the mansion—of course, it's just as beautiful inside as it is outside—he calls Gabby, and asks her to prepare a meal for us. The house isn't as large as the Manor, but it's more elegant, and infinitely more welcoming. It actually feels like a home.

During dinner, I catch Scorpius gazing up at me several times. Finally, just as Gabby clears away our plates, I call him out on it.

"What, may I ask, has you so fascinated, Mr. Malfoy?"

He grins. "I'm Mr. Malfoy now?"

"Well, you're always Mr. Malfoy," I point out, resting my elbows on the table and folding my hands beneath my chin. "Just because someone doesn't call you something, doesn't mean you cease to be whatever it is."

"I suppose that's true," he allows.

"So..." I prod, "you never did answer my question."

"Well, since you asked, I was just remembering something you said last night."

I raise an eyebrow. "And what was that?"

"Something along the lines of... 'If you lock yourself up, no one will ever really get to know you. And that would be a shame.'"

My face warms a little at his uncanny recollection of my words. "Erm... yes, I did say that, didn't I?"

"Mm," he nods. "You also said, when I asked you what you wanted to know, 'Let's start with everything.'" He looks at me carefully. "Does that still stand?"

"Of course."

Scorpius smiles. "Then I'll tell you everything... but only on the condition that you do the same. I want to know you, as well."

"Sounds fair," I grin.

"So... how shall we go about this?'

I ponder this for a second. "How about a game of twenty questions?"

His brow furrows. "A game of what?"

"Twenty questions. We take turns, one question at a time, and the other person is obligated to answer each question, and to answer truthfully. What do you say?"

"I say you start."

"Okay..." I pause, thinking of a question. "When is your birthday?"

He scoffs. "That's your first question?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's something a wife should know about her husband!" I defend myself. "Besides, you have to answer. So, get on with it!"

Scorpius rolls his eyes. "January seventeenth."

"All right," I nod, jotting the date down in my mind. "Your turn."

"Okay. Just how big is your family?"

I snort. "And you mocked my question. My family is... large, to put it mildly. There's Gran and Granddad Weasley, and they have six children—well seven, really, but my Uncle Fred died in the war—and each of them have two or more children. Victoire is pregnant with twins, due sometime in December, and Roxie just found out she's going to have a boy at the end of March. So, doing the math, that's... about three dozen of us. And we also have our family friends, like Neville and Hannah."

"Merlin," he mumbles. "Do I have to meet all of them?"

"Ah-ah-ah," I scold, waggling a finger at him. "It's my turn now."

He sighs. "Fine. Go ahead."

"If you could talk to one famous person, Muggle or magic, who would it be?"

His cheeks turn pink, and he squirms. "Erm... I'd rather not say."

"Obligated to answer," I remind him with a smirk. "And you have to be honest." With another sigh, he mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. "What's that?"

"I said... Harry Potter."

"Uncle Harry?" I say with a laugh. "But you've met him!"

"You didn't ask who I wanted to meet, you asked who I wanted to talk to. And the only thing I've said to him is 'Fine,' in response to..." He trails off, looking (and feeling) incredibly uncomfortable. "Well, you know."

I clear my throat. "Yeah, I do. Okay, it's your turn now."

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes boring into mine, before he asks, "Why are you so against having your grandmother throw a party?"

My face twists into a grimace. "Are you kidding? Ugh," I shudder. "My family is notorious for its parties. They all start as your typical manic, too-close-for-comfort family party, but they end up with every one of my uncles, and most of my cousins, slobbering drunk and hitting on people that aren't their spouses or dates. The few of us who manage to stay sober are left to watch the kids, or to keep the especially inebriated sods from causing too much trouble. Inevitably, one person gets wildly offended by something or other, and the whole thing unravels into chaos." I give another shudder. "Trust me, you don't want to go to a Weasley party."

Scorpius laughs. "Perhaps not. Still..."

I frown. "Still what?"

He shrugs. "I just thought... it might be nice. You know, give everyone a chance to see us together. I mean, we are supposed to be a happily married couple."

A chill runs down my spine, and I swallow. "Well... yes... but can't they just see us at Christmas? That's the one party we're obligated to go to. Other than that, we can just avoid them altogether."

"You don't really want to avoid your family, do you?" he asks.

"Um, yeah," I say bluntly. "I do, actually."

"Why? You love them."

"Of course I love them, they're my family. But that doesn't mean I want to spend every waking hour with them, or that I'm particularly fond of watching them all make complete idiots of themselves." I shake my head. "I'm not saying I want to cut them off. I just don't want to spend more time with them than necessary."

He says nothing, just watches me for a moment. I can feel his reluctance to drop the subject, but he does, saying simply, "Your turn."

After a few more hours of questioning each other, I've learned a lot about Scorpius. He hates peas, he's helping his father take over the family business—i.e., being a Hogwarts governor, investing in stuff, things like that—and his greatest hope is to have a large family, to make up for being an only child ("And just who do you plan on having all these kids with?" I ask him teasingly). Likewise, he learns of my hopes to become a Healer, though admittedly, the hope is a mild one. I reluctantly inform him of my lost years, immediately after Hogwarts, in which I spent most of my time flitting from job to job, just trying to earn my keep. Mum always insisted I didn't need to pay rent, but I felt guilty about living under their roof when I was a working adult and fully capable of doing so. Surprisingly, he asks about my penchant for food-Quidditch, and we both laugh as I share with him the strange habit I've picked up. I also tell him about my deep love for music, art, and literature.

It's well after midnight by the time we decide we should probably turn in. It's funny how comfortable it is now. The last few nights, I've felt extremely awkward and self-conscious about sleeping in the same bed as him. But now, as he crawls in beside me, I find myself smiling at him.

"Good night, Scorpius," I say pleasantly.

"Good night," he smiles back, and he turns the light off with his wand.

As the room is plunged into darkness, I lie on my back, ready for sleep to claim me. Inevitably, I find myself wide awake the moment my head hits the pillow. A few minutes later, I hear Scorpius' breathing become slow and even, and it's combined with his quiet snoring. Carefully, I roll on my side, and watch him. My eyes have adjusted somewhat, so I can just make out his face. Just like this morning, he looks so peaceful. No walls, no pretenses. Just Scorpius.

And as I watch him, I come to an unsettling realization: it would be so easy to fall for Scorpius. Effortless, really. I haven't reached that point yet, but I hope someday that I will, and that he can find it in him to love me, too. For now, though, I think I'll be content to just get to know him. With this thought, I smile, and drift off to sleep.


A/N: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! :D