Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters.

A/N: I should be studying for finals, but I missed dear old Scorpius and Rosie way too much! I apologize for the anticlimactic ending, but I had COMPLETELY forgotten where I was going with this multi-chap. It was supposed to be longer and more detailed, but I might end up writing another fic out of this one.. So sorry, but hope you enjoy their (loose) ending! J

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Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

He slid open the prefects' compartment and saw the slim figure of a ginger, curled against the window, reading an unfamiliar, probably Muggle book. Her eyes leapt from the book and she consciously lowered it, her right hand reaching up to brush strands of red hair from her eyes.

"Do you mind?" he asked, a lingering smile on his lips. After the incident in August, she had been more tolerable towards him. Even friendly, perhaps. They had owled each other several times. She even tickled him that night underneath the stars. Maybe they are friends.

But, for his part, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Ever since August 29th, when he returned to Malfoy Manor, with his grandfather nowhere to be seen. Tensions were high within the family, and hints of an deeper investigation threatened their already disreputable name. Yet, he couldn't stop thinking of her. The joy within the past three days he witnessed at the Burrow was enough to warm his heart. The common room within the Malfoy house was warm, indeed, with its grandeur fireplace. Nevertheless, there was no spark, no pure joy that the Weasleys' possessed. Her smile and laugh had lit the place up, and he found himself beginning to write letters to her, throwing away those that sounded too friendly or too reserved. He ended up just writing about how both of them were to become prefects. And chocolate. Never forget chocolate.

"No, of course not, Scorpius." There was an awkward, yet longingly familiar silence between them.

"You don't mind them…talking?" he jerked his head towards the other compartments. As if remembering their brief kiss on the train earlier that summer, her ears turned red. It was quite amusing, actually.

"No… I really don't. Well not anymore at least," a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She flipped open the book again and her eyes perused its pages. He was content looking at her this way. He hadn't ever been content to look at another girl in this manner. It was rather odd, very unlike himself. His usual self would much rather be socializing with other Slytherins, making bets about the upcoming school year with Al…but he was here, in this empty compartment, with a girl reading a book.

A minute passed, or an eternity. He couldn't tell. He was just thinking about her and watching her in his peripheral vision. Rose turned towards him and scooted slightly closer. He could smell her scent – husky and warm like the Burrow. "I think you'd enjoy this book, Scorpius," she said softly.

"What makes you say that?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's about a boy. He's rather obnoxious, you see. And arrogant. And prideful. But he's witty. He's really witty," she continued.

"And…why would I like such a character?" his eyes widened innocently, as if her anecdote had no subliminal meaning.

She slapped him, hard on his arm. "You get me, you prude. Anyways, he falls in love with this girl who makes him a more tolerable person. You should take his advice." And with that, she dropped the book into his lap. It looked like a romance novel tween girls would read.

Rose stood up and headed towards the exit of the compartment. "If you'll excuse me for a minute, I would like some chocolate frogs."

Her bright red hair fell in a wavy curtain behind her back as she was about to zip out into the aisle. He didn't know what made him do it. He pulled her hand back, similar to that day only several weeks back onto the train.

"Rose, I already have." She looked slightly confused for a second, her freckles illuminated against the sunlight from the train's window.

She looked really beautiful standing there, like she did on the day that she dropped her hair tie at King's Cross. He just never admitted it.

She was brighter than the stars and more fiery than her ginger hair. She was beautiful and she evoked within Scorpius an emotion he hadn't felt before in his life.

"Rose, on the first Hogsmeade trip this month, will you go with me?"

Rose Weasley

"Rose, on the first Hogsmeade trip this month, will you go with me?"

There was always a pull between her and the Malfoy boy. A pull that was, at first, rivalry in its earliest stages. And then, a stronger pull in their fifth year, when Scorpius came back looking annoyingly handsome. When he had taken the book that she had spent weeks reserving in the library, when she threw a paper wad at him telling him to "eat it." And he had responded saying he would rather eat her. It was a physical and emotional pull, like the attraction of two strong metal magnets, unbreakable by the bonds of science.

This time, it was a physical pull. A pull towards him, as his firm hand caught her wrist. She wasn't sure how her father would respond to it. She wasn't sure where this would take them. After all, they were barely friends. Or did coming to one's house in the summer and staying there for three days, watching her do Muggle chores around the house and finish up summer homework, make them better friends? Was playing Quidditch together late at night and writing about chocolate made them…more than friends?

Her heart pulled, her pulse quickened. She blushed a slight pink on her cheeks, and her ears turned red.

"If you let me get some chocolate frogs first, Scorpius."

She slid out the compartment door and felt a tall figure loom after her. They stopped in front of the trolley, and when Rose whipped out her coin purse to pay, Scorpius had already smoothly slid five Sickles and two Knuts into the kind old witch's hand. His smirk was back, immune to the glances they received from the rest of the Hogwarts Express.

"Scorpius! What was that?!" she demanded as they headed back to the prefects' compartment.

He refused to respond until they slid back in behind the door. A slight smirk still lingered on his lips that made her hand twitch, wanting to slap the silly expression off his face. She took a seat against the windowsill, and he scooted closer to her.

He ripped open a bag of truffles and popped one into his mouth. His breath smelled minty clean against her cheek and she felt another blush (what a surprise) creeping up on her neck and ears.

"That, Rose Weasley, was me paying for my date's edible pleasures."

She shoved his chest. That broke his smirk, and she laughed at his surprised expression. Her giggles eventually forced an amused laugh out of him. The next thing she knew, an arm had snaked itself around her shoulders.

A cool breath was against her ear, and this time she refused to blush. "C'mon Weasley, give me a chance."

She made eye contact with the set of striking blue eyes. "Well, I'm here, aren't I?" Scorpius felt a familiar feeling along his neck as Rose's hair tickled him. He fought to resist the urge to laugh. Eventually, a muted snort came out of his mouth.

"That's rather un-ladylike, Scorpius Malfoy," the voice from under the curtain of red hair teased him. She was basically asking for it. His right arm, which was over her shoulder, made its way to tickle her armpits and stomach. It became a tickling fest, similar to the one they had under the stars that night.

When the Head Girl and Boy passed their compartment and told them to stop making a ruckus, they continued to laugh. That wouldn't be the last of their tickling fests. They had them during Quidditch matches between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, on the grounds by the Black Lake, in corridors when they were doing their rounds.

They would laugh away their pains and sorrows, away the whispers that Rose would still occasionally get. They laughed away Scorpius' worries when his grandfather was under house arrest for being in possession of a dark item. Of course, they cried and fought and did every verb in the English dictionary, but in the end, they laughed. And, that was all that mattered.

The End.