Rose: As In Ebenezer
December 20, 2022
Rose Weasley stood before a table of books, a wooly cap pulled over her bushy red hair, blue and bronze scarf wrapped around her neck. To her right, but not at all with her, was Scorpius Malfoy. He, of course, looked completely pulled together in bespoke wizard's robes and a hard part in his blond hair. Aside from the usual pleasantries exchanged by two classmates who also happened to be prefects, the pair had uttered hardly a single word to each other. Certainly not enough to garner the black stares being directed their way from two very separate points in the shop.
Looking over her shoulder, Rose glared at her father before returning her attention to the books before her.
"What's his problem?" Scorpius asked, picking up a copy Quidditch Through the Ages.
"He thinks you'll corrupt me," Rose replied.
"Because I'm a boy, or because I'm a Malfoy?"
"I doubt he's decided which concerns him more. What about him?" Rose nodded in the direction of Mr. Malfoy, who was glowering at the pair from his side of the shop.
"Don't take it personally," Scorpius said. "He just hates Christmas."
"Oh, a regular Scrooge, is he?"
Scorpius looked at her, his fine, pale brow furrowed. "A what?"
"Scrooge. As in Ebenezer."
"Was he in Hogwarts, A History? I don't remember a Scrooge family, was he a friend of Binns?"
"No! He's not a wizard," Rose said, turning fully to Scorpius now. "He's from A Christmas Carol. Haven't you read it?"
Scorpius blinked at her. "Whoa, keep it down, Weasley."
"Sorry," Rose muttered and cleared her throat. "It's just—It's a book. Mum read it to me when I was eight, but I've read it every Christmas since."
"Never heard of it."
"Well, it's a Muggle book, isn't it? I don't suppose you've read a lot of those."
"You would be correct in that assumption."
"No time like the present to remedy that."
Rose latched onto Scorpius' sleeve and dragged him in the direction of the Muggle Literature section. According to her mother, Flourish and Blotts had a meager selection of Muggle books before the war, but Mum had struck out to change that. She'd badgered old Mr. Flourish until he created a proper Muggle Literature section. It was stocked with all the classics from Dickens to Austin, and even American poets like Walt Whitman. There wasn't much in the way of new releases, Rose still had to venture into Muggle London for those.
Running her fingertips along the leather spines, she stopped halfway down the aisle and pulled a red book from the shelf. "Here. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens."
"Cheers," Scorpius mumbled. "I'm not sure you needed to take me hostage to make me read it…"
"I didn't take you hostage!"
He looked at her hand, which was still clutching his sleeve. The full force of the Weasley blush blossomed in Rose's cheeks, and she snatched her hand away, refusing to look at the silly boy again. If she knew anything about boys, Scorpius was probably smirking and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
"What's so great about this book anyway?" Scorpius asked.
"Well, it's Dickens," Rose replied as if that was the only explanation required.
"You know, we've escaped the prying eyes of our fathers."
Rose glanced at the tall boy, a small smile stretching across her face. "We did, didn't we? How long before they panic, do you suppose?"
"We should find out." Scorpius slid to the ground, back against the bookshelf. When Rose just stood there doing nothing, he shot her a challenging glare.
"Oh!" She dropped down beside him. "We're taking up the whole aisle. What if somebody comes by?"
"We'll take House points and send them on their way."
"We're not at school. That doesn't work—" Rose glanced at him. Scorpius was smirking. "Oh."
He chuckled. "Relax, Weasley. If somebody comes by, we'll say 'excuse me' like well bred children and move."
For a moment, they sat in not entirely comfortable silence. Scorpius thumbed through the book, his head bent over it. His hair didn't fall on his forehead, how did it stay in place like that? Rose folded her hands in her lap, looking around for anything that wasn't Scorpius to stare at.
"What do you suppose they think we're doing?" Rose asked.
"Snogging."
Rose felt herself blush again. "Hardly."
"Because you'd never sneak off to the stacks for a good snog?"
That's not what she meant. Although it was mostly true, except for that one time with Jerome Goldstein at the end of last year. About the time his hand came up to cup her breast, Rose had completely panicked. What if they were caught? What if she were banned from the library? Besides, they were supposed to be revising for O.W.L.s.
"Oh, as if you have!" Rose retorted.
Scorpius blushed, much to Rose's satisfaction.
"How long do you suppose we have?" Rose asked.
"Before our fathers come charging in? Probably a few more—"
"Rose!"
"Scorpius!"
At opposite ends of the aisle stood their fathers. First, each parent glared at their respective child, then at each other. Dad's face was an alarming shade of red, and Mr. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed into slits. The two teenagers exchanged conspiratorial smiles.
"Come along, son," Mr. Malfoy said. "The crowds are getting much too rough."
Dad glared. "C'mon, Rose, you're working a shift at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes this afternoon."
"What? No!" Rose cried, coming up on her knees. "I haven't even found a gift for Mum yet."
"You're mum doesn't need another book, she's got hundreds. Let's go."
Rose looked at Scorpius, "You'll read A Christmas Carol?"
"Every word."
Dad grabbed Rose around the arm, hauling her away, but she called over her shoulder. "You'll tell me what you think."
"On the train next term," Scorpius replied as he was propelled to the checkout counter by his father.
"I can't wait to hear what you think!"
The door closed in Rose's face and she realized she was now standing outside the bookshop. She could still see Scorpius, he was sixth in line beside Mr. Malfoy. Skirting over to window, Rose wiped the frost off and pounded on it.
"Happy Christmas!" she yelled when Scorpius looked at her.
The last thing Rose saw before her father pulled her away was Scorpius' smile.