Rose gazed at Malfoy Manor, the sharp early autumn wind gnawing at the bare skin of her freckled arms. Inside that soulless building of dark marble and diamond was an engagement party, one she wasn't invited to. The heir of the Pureblood Malfoy family had recently become betrothed to Aeron Zabini, daughter of Blaise Zabini.

Whenever Rose looked at Aeron, with her dark, rich complexion, her flowing black hair and her flawlessly clear skin, she felt a knot in her stomach. No matter how many times Scorpius told her that he didn't want to marry Aeron – that it was only because she was Pureblood – she knew it was a lie.

A fat, stinking lie.

She had to face up to the fact that:

Aeron was prettier than her. Her nose wasn't slightly too long and her lips weren't a bit too thin and her face wasn't a little too wide.

Aeron's hair was better. Her hair cascaded down her silk-sheathed back like a shadowy waterfall. Rose's was wavy and bright red.

Aeron's skin was better. She didn't have spots or blemishes. Rose, however, had freckles over every bit of skin possible, and she had a few spots on her forehead that she hid behind her hair.

Aeron was Pureblood. Rose was half-blood.

Aeron was better. She'd won.

Rose moved so close that she could look through the bottom floor window.

Tears slid from Rose's eyes and down her pale cheeks as she stared inside of the beautiful manor. Scorpius's words had meant nothing. He didn't love her. He was a filthy liar. How it must have pained him to fake that he loved a creature of scum like Rose. How it must have burnt his hands, caressing her skin. How it must have been agony to make love to her.

A familiar face looked out of the window. Scorpius gazed down at Rose, and from the distance Rose didn't see his tears, or his lips mouthing, I love you.

Rose walked away from the window, and Scorpius was dragged away, and the two never spoke again.