This chapter is an official celebration of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, which I will be seeing at midnight tomorrow. All of my work is dedicated to the amazing series that has changed and shaped my life and, I'm assuming, the lives of everyone now reading this. I grew up with these books, and tomorrow night truly marks the end of an era, and for me the end of my childhood, as I've grown up alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and they, along with everyone else in their magical world, have taught me lessons I couldn't have learned anywhere else. I could continue ranting, but I don't want to bore you all, as I'm sure you all feel the same way, so: Enjoy!

Rose was sure she was going through a midlife crisis at seventeen. There was no other explanation for the fact that, despite having stellar grades, being the best seeker in the school, and having the perfect boyfriend, she wasn't happy. She wasn't unhappy, of course, but she wasn't gleeful, the way she thought she should be, she was merely content. She finally had everything she'd spent seven years working towards, and instead of revelling in her glory, she simply felt...blah. And the root of this problem, and just about every other problem in her life for that matter, was Scorpius Malfoy.

Before, she'd been reminding herself to glance at him periodically no matter where she was, so that he noticed, but now she was doing it automatically. It was becoming like a tick, and she hated it. What made it worse was that, when before it had been just glances, a tilt of the head, and maybe a flirtatious smile, these 'glances' had turned into stares. She found herself contemplating the way his hair fell in his eyes, steely gray and piercing, the way his lips curved into his trademark smirk...the entire thing was nausiating.

And, worst of all, 8:30 had become her favorite time of day. The hour or so they spent every evening in front of the chess board. She relished it, revelled in it, waited for it, attempted to prolong it...she needed it. During that hour, she was the only thing he focused on, the center of his attention, his piercing stare was directed at her, and sometimes she felt as if he could see through her, directly to her soul. It terrified her and enthralled her at the same time.

She also found herself comparing Scorpius, he was now always Scorpius in her head rather than Malfoy, to Andrew frequently. At first it had been for the benefit of the bet, but, just as her frequent glances, it had become an automatic thing, and that irritated her to no end. She was becoming more and more sure every day that she'd spent so long fantacizing over Andrew, convinced that he was the one for her, that she'd fallen in love with the idea of Andrew, rather than Andrew himself. Of course, he was charming, kind, loyal, loving, smart, everything she'd ever wanted in a guy, but they were missing the spark. She'd never really believed in the spark, she'd always thought it didn't exist, that it'd been invented by people as an excuse for breaking up with someone, but now she was in a relationship that fundementally didn't have it. She was comfortable, content, but not...not really in love. That was it. She wasn't hoplessly, desperately, irrationally, irrevocabely in love, and she wanted to be.

Eventually, after these thoughts had been spinning around in her head for a few weeks, she realized that she had to act. And so, one evening after dinner in mid-March, at about 7:00, she had checked the time to make sure she'd be back to her common room by 8:30, she pulled Andrew aside and asked him to take a walk.

He took her hand casually, as he usually did when they walked together on the ground, but as they reached the lake Rose pulled her hand away.

"What's wrong?" Andrew asked quietly, "You seem off. Is everything okay?"

"No," she said softly, looking out at the lake, "It's not. I'm-I'm sorry, Andrew."

"What for?" he asked, attempting to take her hand, but she pulled away again. "You're starting to scare me, Rosie."

"I'm breaking up with you," she said quietly, turning to look at him.

He was stunned first, the hurt came after. "But, why?"

"It's not you, Andrew, it really isn't, you're wonderful, you're just not..." She didn't want to hurt him more, so didn't finished her sentence, but he understood.

"Not enough?" he asked, dejected. His gaze turned intense as he said, "I could be enough, Rose, I really could. I don't want to just end it, we can work this out, whatever it is. I love you-"

She cut him off. "You don't, though. You love the-the shadow of me, you don't really know the real me."

"But," he sputtered, nonplussed, "I've known you for years. I've-"

"But you haven't known me, not the real me, not the me that my family and closest friends see. You've known and loved the public me, not all of me. It's not your fault, it's mine. I didn't show you all of me, and that was wrong, but-"

"It's not too late! I want to know all of you, Rose, I do, I-" He drifted away as she shook her head. He looked at her for a moment before his eyes lit up with a sudden understanding. "I get it," he said kindly, "It's him, isn't it?"

It wasn't an accusation, it was a statement of fact, of resignation.

"What?" she muttered, but he ignored her.

"I've seen the way you look at him, the way you watch him. I get it, I really do."

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, and Rose felt her heart break.

"I'm sorry," she said, tears pooling in her eyes, "I shouldn't have done this with you, it wasn't fair. You're a good guy, and you'll find a girl who will love you for who you are, and who will let you love all of her. And, I hope that, in time, we can still be friends."

He nodded and strode away, his head held high. She watched him go without another word, a single tear escaping her eyes and sliding down her cheek. She realized in that moment that she had loved him, but not enough, not the way she loved him.


"I am such a jack-ass," Scorpius moaned into his pillow. It was the next morning, and Albus had come to find him when he hadn't come down to breakfast at his usual time and when Rose had appeared without him and said that she still hadn't seen him. It was a Saturday, so Albus hadn't been too worried, but it wasn't like Scorpius to sleep so late, so he'd gone up to check on him and found him wallowing in guilt.

"I shouldn't have done this. I'm a terrible person, I really am. I don't know why you're friends with me. I wouldn't be friends with me!"

"Scorpius, calm down! Don't you think this is a tiny bit melodramatic? This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Al said, taking Scorpius by the shoulders and getting him to sit up, with a certain amount of effort.

"But, Al, she broke up with Andrew! The guy of her dreams! You said so yourself, she's been in love with him for years, and she broke up with him and it's my fault!" Scorpius had found out about the break-up during their evening chess game the night before, and ever since he'd been dejected.

"I fail to see how her breaking up with her boyfriend is your fault."

"I've spent all year trying to make her fall in love with me, and now that she has it's ruining her life!"

"I thought you hated her," Albus said slowly, "Am I to understand that that is not the case anymore?"

"Hate her?" Scorpius said, as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind, "Of course not. We may not get along all the time, but I don't hate her. I mean, I used to, and I still don't like her or anything, but-"

"Who are you kidding?" Albus asked incredulously. "You fancy her!"

"I do not!" Scorpius said defensively.

"I cannot believe this," Al muttered, more to himself. His crazy brother's plan had actually worked. He turned back to Scorpius, "You're buying your own con! Unbelieveable..."

"Oh God," Scorpius muttered as Al strode from the room, "This cannot be happening to me..."


"This cannot be happening to me!" Rose practically screamed at Clarice. She was pacing back and forth in front of a beech tree by the lake later that evening, glancing at her watch every few moments, pulling at her hair in frustration.

"Will you sit down?" Clarice begged, "And why do you keep looking at your watch? You're gonna develop a tick."

I already have, thought Rose, but she simply sat down next to Clarice and said, "I've got to make sure I'm back by 8:30."

"Why? Curfew's not until 9:00."

"Nevermind," Rose muttered irritabley. No one knew that Rose and Scorpius still played chess every evening, and she wanted to keep it that way. "More importantly, what am I going to do?"

"I'm not totally sure you have to do anything," Clarice reasoned. "So you fancy him? So what? Doesn't that kind of coincide with the bet?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about fancying him?"

"Rose, sweetie, I'm sorry, but you can't possibly deny it any more. You said so yourself, you can't stop thinking about him, you watch him all the time, you look forward to spending time with him, it's all there. You can't deny it." Clarice had to try hard not to sound too excited by the idea.

"I do deny it because it's not true. I was simply saying that I can't be starting to actually like him as a friend!"

"Then why are you feeling guilty?"

"Because friends don't hurt friends, and if I win the bet it'll hurt him!"

"But if he falls in love with you, and you've already fallen in love with him, then won't you just start dating?" Clarice said, raising an eyebrow.

Rose glared at her and snarled through her teeth, "I. Do. Not. Fancy. Him. Period."

Clarice shrugged, "You're doing a pretty good impression of it, then."

Rose's eyes narrowed, "It's all for the bet, as you very well know."

"You sure that you haven't started to buy it yourself?" Clarice smirked.

"Yes," Rose muttered between her teeth before standing up and saying, "I'm going back inside."

"Fine," Clarice shrugged, "See if I care that you're going to blow me off for Scorpius Malfoy..."

Rose growled, but couldn't come up with a good comeback, so simply strode away, seething.


When Rose strode into their common room at about 8:15 she was distressed, but shrugged it off as surprise, to find that Scorpius was not there. Thoroughly convinced he would arrive any moment to begin their game, she sat down and began to work on her transfiguration assignment, so that she looked nonchalant when he arrived.

However, 8:30 came and went, then 8:45, then 9:00, and still Scorpius did not appear. She wondered if he was in his room, but didn't want to check, so she simply waited and attempted to work on her essay. However, by 10:30 she was pacing the room in irritation and anger. Where was he? Had she done something to offend him? She couldn't think what. Just the evening before they'd been talking as usual when she told him about the break-up with Andrew. She'd thought that something about his reaction had seemed wrong at the time, and now she found herself over-analyzing it, looking for clues. For a split second a grin had stretched across his face, but then his brow furrowed, and he spent the rest of the game troubled, eventually losing, and speaking very little for the rest of the game, and only when prodded by her. She hadn't seen him all day, but she'd assumed that he'd be there, but he wasn't, and she was seriously upset by it, and even more upset with herself for being upset. She glanced longingly at the chess set, which sat in the corner where it always sat until Scorpius got it out and assembled the pieces. She was tempted to get it out and wait for him, but that would be a change in routine, as he always set out the board. Then again, he was breaking routine by not showing up.

At 11:00 she gave up and went to bed, dejected.

Meanwhile, Scorpius was sitting in his room, having to physically resist the urge to get up and go into the common room when 8:30 came and went. It was a great personal sacrafice on his part, but he was sure it was the best thing to do. He'd told Al he was doing it because playing hard to get would get him far with Rose, but he knew Al saw through him, but it meant a lot to him that Al hadn't said anything. The real reason was simple: he wasn't going to destroy her life anymore. He was willing to lose the bet for several reason: first, he wouldn't really mind kissing her again, he'd relish the opportunity in fact, so it wouldn't be the end of the world to face the consequences of losing; second, he'd spent all year trying to get her to trust him, and now that he had her trust he felt a sense of responsibility that he'd never thought he'd feel; third, he cared about her, beyond responsibility, he cared. He didn't want her to get hurt, and he didn't want to be the one hurting her. The idea frightened him, repelled him, terrified him. He didn't want to be in love with her, it went against everything he'd ever known about his world, his life, himself, but he couldn't deny it anymore: he was in love with Rose Weasley.

As he heard the door to her room snap shut at 11:00, he slowly got off the bed where he'd been sitting for hours and went into the common room, careful to make as little noise as possible. He sat in his usual chair and looked the chessboard and thought.

He didn't know exactly how it had happened, but he'd fallen for her. He knew he should've been horrified by the very idea, but he couldn't bring himself to be. Over the course of the year, he'd come to realize that he'd been blinded by hate, by preconceptions, by his own competative nature. Of course, he still wanted to beat her, but the hatred he'd felt was gone. He began to wonder if it'd ever been real, or simply an excuse to think and talk about her without acknowledging, even to himself, that she fascinated and enchanted him.

Having realized that he loved her, his course of action was clear. He would back off. He had no other choice. He'd lose the bet, kiss her, get cursed or hit or whatever, and then he'd leave and never look back. He'd walk right out of her life and it'd be better for everyone. He hadn't told Al this plan because he knew what Al would say. Al would say that Rose liked him, so he should go for it, but Scorpius knew better. She only liked him because he'd made it so, he'd manipulated her, all for a stupid bet, and that had made him a person he didn't want to be and a person that wasn't worthy of her love. She'd given up a guy who was worthy of her love, assumably for him, and that had driven the point home: he had to quit her before he completely ruined her life.

He supposed he could come clean about the whole thing, but what good would it do? She'd feel used and abused, which she had been, he had to admit with shame, and she'd hate him forever, which might literally kill him. If he walked away now, she'd be hurt and confused, but she wouldn't hate him anymore. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted her to think well of him, he needed her to think well of him.

He sat there late into the night, pondering his decision, and as he thought he grew more and more certain that it was a good one. Starting now he would be indifferent, or, at least, appear to be.

So, that was the chapter. I'm SUPER PSYCHED for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and, as I said, this chapter is dedicated to it. Review please!

XOXO

GossipGirlHere