Scorpius POV

Rose's breathing started to settle into a slow, even pattern and she melted even closer into my body in her sleep. I smiled and dropped my book onto the floor by the chair before easing the thick volume, which she'd been engrossed in before dropping off to sleep, out of her hands and setting it onto of my own. Rose shifted slightly, one delicate hand fisting in my shirt, the other tucked under her chin, I groaned quietly as she murmured in her sleep before curling closer still.

"All right Rosie, time for you to go to bed," I whispered as I slowly got up and carried her unhurriedly to her room, using everything she'd ever taught me about keeping Charlotte asleep on her. I set her on her bed and pulled back, but her hand was still clutching my shirt. I cursed quietly, and eased her hand open. She stirred in her sleep as I pulled the knit blanket she'd brought out with her earlier up to her neck before brushing my knuckles over her cheek and backing slowly towards the door. She opened her eyes just a crack as I got to the door and I swore I heard her whisper "Scorp…" before I shut the door behind myself. I wondered if she'd remember in the morning as I walked into my room. I wasn't likely to forget the feel of her, completely relaxed, in my arms, any time soon, that much I was sure of. She needed to relax more often I thought, as I ran my tooth brush around in my mouth. Her Dad had really messed her up, not that she ever really talked about it; after that day in Diagon Ally she seemed even more reserved around me than usual, although she never turned down my touch, seeming to reluctantly draw comfort from the contact.

I sighed and shut the light off, wishing I could turn thoughts of Rose off just as easily.

While Rose seemed to be calming down, she looked more and more tired every morning, and starting to seemingly avoid me. Sure, she was still around me, just she seemed to shut down, drawn into herself when she knew I was there.

We were in class Thursday when Professor Flickwick (how is he still teaching? That's what I'd like to know.) asked the class at large to volunteer the answer to the Charms question he'd just posed. Rose's hand shot up in the air, and, of course, she had the right answer. I smirked over at her, thinking that was so typically Rose, and watched the colour rise in her cheeks. That, of course, only made me smirk more, but she quickly looked away and I couldn't help feeling a bit deflated at how introverted she had become in my presence.

After ten minutes Flickwick asked another question, and, without pausing for breath it seemed like, called out "Yes, Miss Weasley?" Now, that would be funny enough, but the wizard had his back to the class the whole time. Rose, not seeming to notice, merely spouted the correct answer and dropped her hand before going back to taking copious notes on the lecture. I couldn't help shooting her a fond look as she scribbled furiously, but just as I glanced over at her across the empty desk between us she stopped writing, and I could see her peeping out of the corner of her eye in me.

That night I came back from practice later than normal and completely exhausted, but I still endeavored to be as quiet as possible, since I figured at this hour Rose probably had Lottie asleep. I set down my Quidditch gear and tip-toed over to the nursery door. It was pulled halfway closed, and the lights were all out, save for the nightlight Rose kept on all night to avoid stubbed toes and the two of us trying to put the dummy in her arm pit instead of her mouth-Rose's exact words, four months ago.

I could just see Rose in the soft light, rocking Charlotte. As my eyes got used to the dim light, I watched her snuggle her face into Lottie's neck, then pull back and place a kiss on her head before leaning head against the back of the chair and uttering a huge sigh.

She was beautiful, all the time, but even more so when she was dashing around with six kilograms of books weighing down her bag, or holding my niece, absentmindedly stroking her arm or kissing her while she spoke or read. It's the kind of settled, mature loveliness that most of the girls at Hogwarts didn't even know existed yet, the grace that you just knew would still be there, unchanged, when she was eighty.

Rose stirred, then carefully got up and walked over to the crib, and I suddenly realized that I'd been standing in the doorway, just watching her, for the last five minutes, and I should probably move before she walked out and found me there. And yet…I didn't want to leave.

"There, there. Shush, shush…go back to sleep baby girl, everything is fine."

I smiled wistfully. What would we do without her? And what would become of my sanity at the end of the year?

"I'll see you in the morning darling. I love you." Rose started backing away from the crib and I scrambled away from the door and into my room at breakneck speed. She was incredible, and scared, because of her father's betrayal. And I was falling for her, hard. Falling in love with her faster, and more completely, than I'd ever thought possible.

The only question now was how to show her I would never, never harm her. Because every day I saw her, talked to her, every day I watched her with my niece I became more and more convinced that I didn't want to live another day without her.