"What?" I choked out after a moment.

I just managed to catch a flicker of emotion behind his cool grey eyes before he masked it with his usual expression of calm indifference. He blinked and paused before repeating, "It's what I love best about you." He shrugged and turned to duck back through the mirror.

I stood there a moment, stunned.

It's what I love best about you.

What the hell was I supposed to make out of that?

Really, Scorpius? Really?

COULD YOU BE ANYMORE DAMN CONFUSING?

It was moments like these that made me hate/love the stupid blighter more than ever.

Why, oh why, couldn't I fancy someone who didn't make my head hurt with stupid mixed signals, cryptic comments and unanswerable questions? But nooo… I had to go fall for the bloke with all that plus serious commitment issues and an inability to muster up the concern to display general social skills.

Oh yes, no one could say I didn't know how to pick a bloke.

Scorpius turned around at the sound of my palm smacking resolutely against my forehead. "Rose?" he asked, the questioning tone shining through his desperate attempts to keep from laughing. "What…?"

"Now what could you possibly mean by that, Scorpius?" I demanded exasperatedly, wincing as I felt my forehead throb from the force of the smack. "Ow," I murmured quietly, grimacing in pain.

"By what?" he asked, looking genuinely confused. "I, er, am sorry that you felt the need to hit yourself on your own forehead?" A smile slowly started to break out across his face, and I could tell he was having a hard time keeping the laughter in.

I scowled. Yeah well, if you utter one chuckle mister, I'll Avada your arse so fast you'd never see it coming, insane Seeker reflexes or no.

Hmph.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Anything wrong, Rose?" he asked politely, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Oh dear. He didn't have any idea what I was talking about. Bollocks. Clearly I had been reading too far into his words. He hadn't meant anything special by it. Bugger. Maybe he just felt guilty about the whole fight, and in the spirit of renewal thought he should be extra nice to me. That was possible, right?

…Bloody hell. Who was I kidding?

There was no way Scorpius Malfoy would ever feel the need to be extra nice to me. In fact, I couldn't recall any time that he deliberately went out of his way to spare some spare compliment my way. At least, one that wasn't an insult at the same time. Somehow, he always managed to turn any flattery he might've had for me into something distinctly less… flattering. I didn't mind, not really. It wasn't like I ever had a true compliment from the bloke – ever – and I couldn't really miss what I've never had. Still, I couldn't quite comprehend just what the bloody hell was going through his mind. I mean, who casually slips the 'L' word onto conversation like that?

…Apart from Scorpius Malfoy, apparently.

I swear, sometimes he made me want to Avada myself, if just to make all the headaches go away.

"W-What do you l-love best about me?" I asked, fumbling with his words.

Scorpius's eyes widened. "That you have a weakness," he said after a moment, a faint blush spreading over his prominent cheekbones.

My mouth fell open, and I hastily raised a hand to cover the giggle that was rising up in my throat. "A weakness?" I asked, "As in, one? Not one of many?" Honestly? I couldn't help but laugh. It was just so ridiculous. What the hell was he doing, going against seven years worth of teasing and playful insults?

"Yeah," he said, turning away from me to leave the cave.

Oh hell no. There was no way he would get off that easy. "Hold on," I breathed hastily, lunging forward to grab his hand.

I heard him give the briefest of sighs before turning around to face me. "What, Rose?" he asked, looking distinctly annoyed.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked, my amusement dying as I took in expression.

"Nothing," said Scorpius, slowly trying to wrest his hand from my grip, but I was firm. "Absolutely nothing."

I made a noise of disbelief. "Explain."

"Explain what?" he asked innocently.

"Do not make me repeat myself," I told him sternly.

"Well, it looks like you will have to, because I have no fucking idea what you're talking about," he said sharply.

I flinched and dropped his hand. "I, um, er…" I said, heat flooding up my neck to my face. I coughed self-consciously. "Nothing."

There was a moment of silence, whereupon his expression slid from irate to contrite faster than Mum could recite the First Law of Fundamental Physiological Transformations of Transfiguration.

"Fuck," Scorpius cursed, biting his lip and looking frustrated. "Fucking hell, Rose," he said, his grey eyes searching beseechingly for mine, "Damn it, I swore I wouldn't do this," he muttered to himself as he turned away from me.

"Er, do what?" I asked in a small voice.

He sighed and turned back around to face me. "Let myself get angry at you," he said simply, one shoulder coming up in a half-shrug.

"Why - because I just make it too damn easy?" I demanded, my temper rising.

"Yea-no," he said, backtracking halfway through his answer. "No?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Pick an answer, Scorpius, and stand by it," I said coldly. "And chose the right one," I amended a moment later.

I saw his eyes soften a fraction as he reached up a hand to brush a stray curl behind my ear.

Oh bollocks.

I think I just went weak in the knees.

How positively mental could you get? A little hair brushing and I was a big puddle of hormonal goo.

Pathetic, really.

"Yes, you, Rose Weasley, make it too damn easy," Scorpius started, smiling slightly at my expression which was rapidly turning sour.

Well.

Legs of goo or no, there was no way in hell that I was going to let him get away from insulting me. I would unleash the worst of my inherited Weasley temper on him… just as soon as the feeling returned to my knees. And the butterflies stopped doing the tango in my stomach. And the kinky, explicit thoughts stopped swirling around my brain. And when I remembered to breathe properly.

After I got all that under control, he'd have no idea what cursed him.

Right.

I was too busy contemplating some kind of brutal torture that kept his perfect face free of harm while causing him extreme pain that I almost missed his words when he began speaking again.

"But I like that you're too easy to talk to," he continued, "Too easy to argue with, too easy to joke with, too easy to lo-" He broke off, looking alarmed.

I cast him a questioning look, which he took in for a moment before ignoring completely. "And, er, Rose," he resumed after a beat, "back to my original point, even though you make it too damn easy to get angry at you, you also make it too damn easy to laugh with you, to be around you." He smiled, and I felt my insides melt. "So," he chuckled, "I'll take it. The whole Rose Weasley package, anger and laughter included."

I was struck speechless.

After a moment of silence, Scorpius coughed, and his gaze dropped down to his trainers. "Er, right, Rose," he said, shuffling in place a little. "I'd better get back." He pulled back his robes from his forearm to glance at his watch and turned to leave. "Meyers is going to flay me alive for being this late."

I nodded dumbly, and before I knew it, he had crossed the distance between us and held me in a brief embrace. And then, before I could utter a sound, he pressed his lips to my cheek in the lightest of kisses before turning and strolling away, calling over his shoulder, "Glad we made up, Weasley."

Hekissedme… Hekissedme… HEKISSEDME!

On the cheek… but still!

It was a moment before my haze of joy had subsided to even realise that Scorpius had left. Good thing too, or else he totally would have noticed and mocked the euphoric, sappy look that was currently adorning my features.

I made my way back to Gryffindor Tower in a happy sort of trance, and before I knew it, I was lazing by my favourite armchair by the fire. Even when Al found me a quarter of an hour later, I was still oozing contentment from every pore.

"Spill," he demanded without preamble.

"Huh?" I asked, smiling up at him.

"Tell me what happened, Rose," he said slowly and deliberately.

When I didn't respond for a while, he amended, "On your date."

That got my attention.

"What?" I asked, sitting straight up in my chair. "Date? What date? I didn't go on a date!" I said, startled.

"With Scorpius," he amended exasperatedly, shaking his head. "So, how'd it go?"

"I went out on a date with Scorpius?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"Well, yeah," Al said, rolling his eyes. "What did you think you two were doing?"

"Er, going out for a drink?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Just the two of you? Skiving off class to be with each other, sneaking off to the village, skirting around the authorities, getting cosy in a secret passageway…" Al's voice drifted off suggestively.

"It wasn't like that," I muttered, face aflame. Honestly, Al was so delusional sometimes.

So, so delusional…

I frowned, and Al studied my changing expression intently.

He did have a point, though, I guess. Scorpius did take me out to Hogsmeade. I mean, he paid and everything. Then again, I countered mentally, he always paid for everything. Even when it was the three of us, he'd cough up the gold even when Al insisted on the most outrageous purchases to see how far Scorpius's purse would stretch. It went surprisingly far.

"It wasn't like that," I repeated stubbornly.

Al sent me a sceptical look.

"Really!" I exclaimed. "We went out, had a few drinks. That's all."

"Sure," he said in a disbelieving tone.

I frowned. "Al…" I started in a warning voice, "Don't you start. You'll put all sorts of ideas into my head, and before I know it, I'll make an even bigger fool out of myself than usual in front of him."

Al snorted. "You don't need my help with that, Rose," he muttered.

I smacked him on the side of his head.

"Rose!" he said loudly. "Knock it off!" he immediately swatted my hand away from his precious cranium.

"Prat," I murmured, slumping down in my seat, new thoughts swirling around my mind.

Stupid Al.

Stupid Scorpius.

Stupid sort-of not-really-date thingy I had been unwittingly coerced into.

Stupid world.

"Look Rose," Al said patiently, "Just talk to him, alright?"

"I just spent three hours doing nothing but talking to him!" I reminded him, close to laughter. Honestly, what did the boy think we had been doing? Knitting pillow cases?

Al snorted. "Not about the important stuff," he said after a moment.

I rolled my eyes as I immediately caught onto his point. "Just drop it, Al. I'm not going to dump the whole fancying thing on him." I crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down.

"But, Rose-" he started pleadingly.

"No 'but Rose's, Al," I said sternly, "We just became friends again. I'm not going to bugger it all up with-"

"You wouldn't bugger it up!" he said angrily, "If anything, you'd do the opp-"

"Whatever, Al," I interrupted, plainly frustrated. "Look, I got things to do. Hopefully I won't see you later," and then before he could object, I had left the common room, positively fuming.

I decided that I needed a walk and time to think. Muttering darkly to myself, I left the castle and proceeded past the greenhouses to the Great Lake. I stopped and leaned against one of the many beech trees along its edge, my mind whirling.

It wasn't a date.

It couldn't have been a date.

There was no way Scorpius and Rose went on a date together.

I groaned and slid down the tree, cursing Al and my insanity that was making me think in the third person.

I quickly replayed the highlights of our outing together. Alright there were several signs that pointed to the whole That-Was-A-Date-You-Mad-Bint theory of Al's… but it couldn't have been. I mean, Al did have a point but he forgot one small teensy, weensy important factor.

Scorpius Malfoy didn't fancy me. He just didn't like me like that.

I mean, if he hypothetically did wish to date/snog/deflower/marry me, he wouldn't have spent nearly a month not talking to me. If he was as deeply attracted to me as Al made up, then he wouldn't have been able to go a single day without being near me, rather than ignoring me for weeks. Plus, there was that whole he-had-a-girlfriend thing going on with him. But really, Jade was such a bitch. I didn't understand how he tolerated her. He even basically said that they had nothing in common during our date-like-non-date date. Honestly, there were just too many mental hyphens going on.

Bloody hell, he was just so frustrating!

And then he had to oh-so casually slip the whole 'L' word into the conversation. That little stunt just about tuned my whole axis on its head, and now I was left trying to figure out what was up and what was down and what was happening and what was just make believe.

Rose Weasley: confusion personified.

There was anger too, but mostly confusion.

Because I knew he didn't fancy me, and it wasn't like he was always jumping to take me out for a drink when we were friends the first time around. No, he had specifically done something we had never done before.

But why?

I scowled moodily at the ground and kicked at a clump of dirt, smiling ruefully in satisfaction as it dropped with a loud plunk a metre or two away from the shore of the lake. I stood there a moment, watching as the ripples quickly lapped outward from the disturbance, making the reflection of the starkly bare trees and sparse clouds overhead shimmer and distort. I looked up as a couple of ravens flew out from the tops of the trees of the Forbidden Forest, squawking and cawing stridently through the still winter air.

I sighed and turned away from the Great Lake. I wandered around for a bit, letting my feet take me anywhere they wanted to go.

It was only as I looked around me a minute or two later that I realised I was standing right outside the entrance to the Quidditch Pitch.

Figured.

Even my subconscious seemed to be plotting against me.

Brilliant.

I simply stood there for a moment, debating whether or not to enter the stadium. Eventually, after calling myself a cowardly prat a significant number of times, I mustered up the courage to put one foot in front of the other. I walked through the entranceway, mentally preparing myself.

I climbed up to the first row of the stands and propped my feet up on the wall in front of me to watch the last of the practice. By my estimates, Scorpius had already been there for at least an hour, maybe more. I tilted my head skyward and watched the players zoom around high up in the air. Most of them were so absorbed in their practice that they barely noticed my presence; and it was only a quarter hour in that I heard Meyers send down one of her players down to investigate my presence.

"Rose?" a deep male voice asked, its location surprisingly close to my face.

Bugger.

Of course she had to send him.

"What?" I asked, my eyes flying open. I instinctively jerked backward as I found his presence way too close for comfort.

Or not close enough… hehe.

I quickly schooled my face in a neutral expression and met Scorpius's curious grey eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, hovering about a metre away from me in mid-air.

I shrugged. "Felt like getting some air."

"So… you're not some Gryffindor spy sent to sabotage our Quidditch practices?" he asked, his face a vision of pseudo-seriousness.

I held my hands up. "Oh, would you look at that, you caught me," I joked. Tilting my head, I studied his face. "Honestly, is that why Meyers sent you down here? To check that I wasn't some spy?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Wasn't my idea. But as she's practicing some crucial Keeper-Beater plays, I wasn't needed so I was free to come down here and bother you for as long as I liked."

"Oh joy," I deadpanned.

Scorpius laughed. "Your lucky day, Rose."

"Believe me, I know it," I said truthfully, but my intent was masked by my mocking tone. "Plus, we Gryffindors don't need to resort to spying and sabotaging," I said disdainfully. "We can win without such underhanded methods."

"Yeah, you lot take the in-your-face approach and just resort to fists," he muttered.

I was just about to retort back to his slur when Scorpius cut me off, changing the subject. "So, why are you here, again?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "As I recall, you tend to avoid this place at all costs."

"I only avoid it when my relatives are around," I said succinctly.

"Is that so?" Scorpius crossed his arms and leaned forwards to brace himself on the handle of his broom.

I nodded, blushing slightly. Hell, I couldn't help it! He just looked so damn good up in the air, on his broomstick, the air whipping gently at his robes and hair. It took all my willpower to retain some semblance of control over my speech and not drift off into an eloquent "guhh…" or two.

"Why's that?" he asked innocently.

I scowled, and he grinned as he noticed my reluctance to answer.

"Oh come on, Rose," he cajoled, drifting closer. "Why do you never come to the Quidditch pitch?"

I shook my head and tried to rein a hold on the smile that was threatening at the corners of my mouth.

"Curious, curious…" he muttered to himself, looking me up and down. "It's not that your relatives cannot stand you ogling my excellent Quidditch toned physique while I'm on the pitch?" he asked, his eyes alight with mirth.

"Sometimes I seriously wonder if you should seek help for your raging case of egomania," I hedged thoughtfully.

Scorpius began shaking his head slowly. "Been working for the past eighteen years; why fix what isn't broken?" he quipped back breezily.

"Yeah, well, you're going to get your nose broken any day now by one of your mad ex's if you keep going on like this," I warned. "Just you wait; one bird's bound to be so disappointed when she actually gets off with you that she'll punch you right in the face for her dashed hopes and dreams."

I laughed as Scorpius's face adopted a positively horrified expression. It remained there a moment, before it melted away to his characteristic smirk. "Well, that's just not possible," he said smoothly.

"Sure…"

"Don't you have some practice you need to get to?" I asked, nodding up to where the rest of his team was reduced to emerald coloured blurs in the sky.

Scorpius made a noncommittal noise and allowed his broom to drift down even further. "Not really," he said after a moment. He briefly turned his head to spare a glance at Meyers, who had remained stationary long enough to grab one of the Beater's bats and pretend to take a swipe at the Keeper, clearly demonstrating some new, probably illegal, tactic for the upcoming match in two weeks. "I think they can do without me for a moment," he finished dryly.

"If you say so," I murmured.

Silence reigned for a while. I let my eyes drift to the skies, and lazily searched for shapes in the clouds. As the minutes lengthened, I spent some serious time thinking. I hadn't forgotten my intent and reason for coming in the first place, though. I mean, I totally wanted to investigate the whole date-like-non-date date, don't get me wrong. It's just…

I didn't.

Because now, here, almost alone with him here in our corner of the Quidditch pitch and immersed in a comfortable silence… I could pretend that we did go on a date. I could convince myself that it did matter on some subconscious level to him like it did to me.

And there was nothing in the world that would make me open my mouth to break that illusion.