Louder, lips speak louder
Better, back together
Still it's a shock, shock
To your side, side
Soft Shock: Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Chapter Fourteen: Electric
The wine had long since released its hold on Rose's brain by the time they returned to Al and Scorpius' flat, paintings in hand. So, honestly, there was no excuse when—as a result of Jane's complex hand gestures—she'd given Scorpius her painting. Rose had refused to put it up in her own flat because it looked every bit like an albino turtle…and not a very cute one either.
And at first, he looked puzzled, but then he'd uncovered it and well…
Rose had predicted three things would happen:
First, he would call it the ugliest thing he'd ever seen.
Second, they would laugh together
Third, she would put the painting where it belonged…with the rubbish.
When Scorpius had said her painting looked like a germ with teeth and they laughed at it for five solid minutes, she'd thought she'd proven the point that Jane and Quincy were daft and she was the only one with their wits about them. But then, even though it clashed with everything he owned, Scorpius hung it on the wall above his desk and…hmm.
Oh well, her point had still been made.
Two out of three wasn't bad. Right?
Besides, Scorpius sometimes surprised her with his contrary behaviour.
Sometimes.
Well, not often.
Not even once in the last three years.
But sometimes.
Anyway, they were late for dinner at the Burrow. Uncle Charlie was visiting, but her Nan had Owled earlier and told her the menu, just to guarantee that Rose would show up. Pot roast and steamed cabbage and roasted chicken and potatoes and Yorkshire pudding and lentil loaf for Scorpius and…so much more. Rose happened to love pot roast…and chicken. And potatoes.
She wasn't picky.
After impatiently watching Al—who had hung Jane's glorious portrait-painting of a blue lion in the sitting room on the wall behind the sofa—stumble over asking Jane to join them, Rose all but shouted her invitation and dragged her friend to the Floo while Scorpius laughed and Al blushed ferociously.
Dinner was a not-so organised chaotic feast, as usual.
Not only was Uncle Charlie in town, but it seemed like every cousin that wasn't in Hogwarts or abroad showed up, even Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur. The table was running over with family and friends and everyone was crammed together; chairs so close no one could tell where one ended and another began.
"Eat up!" her Nan encouraged everyone with a bright, watery smile she always had when everyone was around and she was missing Uncle Fred.
Grandpa reached for her hand and squeezed.
There was a moment of silence before Roxanne pointed to the sautéed mushrooms on her plate and blurted out, "Daddy, that looks like poo! Are we eating poo?"
The room exploded with laughter, but her youngest cousin looked extremely put out about being laughed at until Uncle George explained that mushrooms were just edible fungus.
From there, no one had to be told twice and everyone tucked into their meals.
It had always been quietest part of dinner.
Rose didn't have enough elbow room to really enjoy her food experience, but she was crammed between Jane and Al so it didn't matter. A bit later, conversations began sprouting up in earnest. Everyone was talking loudly and laughing at something or the other; enjoying the presence of family with a few additions. It wasn't bad. Rose found herself observing everything rather than actively participating.
Her parents were reminiscing with Uncle Harry, Uncle George, and Aunt Ginny; their cackling and teasing loud and long.
"Okay, Won-Won!" Aunt Ginny teased, face red from amusement.
Her mum nearly spit out her pumpkin juice, but managed to swallow it before she laughed.
Uncle George did spit out his butterbeer. They all laughed harder.
"Oi!" Her dad tried to sound offended, but was too busy grinning.
Uncle Harry patted his back in sympathy, "You're never going to live that nickname down, mate."
"Bloody hell."
Uncle Percy was talking about work with Rose, who pretended to listen, nodding at all the appropriate parts. "The Ministry, I think, is where you will end up in the end. There is no better career path for a Weasley." Blah, blah, blah. "Perhaps you will do well in—"
"Love," Aunt Audrey interrupted, touching his arm gently. "Can you bring me a spoon from the kitchen?"
Her uncle agreed and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek that pinkened his cheeks before he stood up and left to complete his task. He didn't think once about the fact that nothing on their plates required a spoon. Rose mouthed her thanks to her aunt, who nodded with a grin and went back to her conversation.
Jane put another piece of chicken on her plate and Rose happily tucked in.
Nan was trying to convince James to get a haircut. "You're looking like your Uncle Ron."
"Hmm," James looked both humoured and thoughtful, if that at all was possible. "Which Uncle Ron do I look like? You-Bring-Back-That-Car Uncle Ron, Yule-Ball-Robes Uncle Ron, or The-Quidditch-Robe-Fiasco Uncle Ron?"
"Oi!" Her dad complained loudly while everyone laughed. "Is it pester Ron day or something?"
With her head tilted, Rose eyed James' red hair that was sticking up on all ends, like he'd been shocked or attacked by a bird. Then it hit her. "You look like my dad the time mum got him with the canaries when he left me at Tesco by mistake."
Everyone laughed harder while her dad sulked. "Not you too, Rosie. I'm supposed to be your favourite!"
She just shrugged and continued eating with a smile on her face. "You are, but you also used to leave me a lot." That time, she had been lost a half hour before he came running back in the store like the devil—or her mum—was on his heels. Security had given her a juice box and some crisps, so she was fine, but she'd pretended to be upset and used that to guilt her dad into two weeks of ice-cream trips.
Completely worth it.
And they wondered why she'd been sorted in Slytherin.
Grandpa was making sure Roxanne ate her food, rather than wear it. Not the mushrooms, though.
"Cabbage is good for you." Uncle Bill told her gently, biting back a grin.
Her little cousin was not convinced. "Looks like sad salad."
Uncle Percy, who was back from the kitchen, chuckled fondly. Rose wondered if he was getting soft in his old age. He certainly hadn't been that docile when they had been Roxanne's age. He spent a lot of time yelling like a grumpy old man, making sure they were following proper decorum and protocol, but that was right before he'd met Aunt Audrey…and long before Molly and Lucy, who were both at Hogwarts, had come along.
Al was talking to Teddy in low tones, nodding along to whatever he said.
So, Jane-related.
He was hopeless.
From her spot next to Scorpius, Lily spoke with excitement about her fashion line with Victoire, Dominique, Aunt Fleur, and Aunt Audrey. She tried to draw Scorpius into their conversation by saying, "The bottom line is that men appreciate women that are dressed well and are sophisticated. Isn't that true, Score?"
Scorpius took a drink from his goblet, frowning at the nickname and Rose suppressed a snicker of her own. "Statistically, I can't speak for all men."
"Speak for yourself, then."
He picked up his fork, then thought twice about it and sat it down. "I'm not as traditional as my either side of my family would like, so I can't say that I agree with your statement." He adjusted his glasses, shrugging casually as he seemed to choose his next words very carefully. "I'm not blind, I can and do notice attractive women, but I've never been superficial."
"Most men are superficial," Lily rolled her eyes. "They are first attracted to a woman because of the way she looks."
"And that may be true for some, but not me." Scorpius argued, looking over at her cousin. "I don't fancy someone simply because they're beautiful or because their clothes are in style. I don't care about hair or makeup or whatever. When I like someone, none of those things matter."
Lily just stared at him as if she were trying to figure out him…or something. "So, if I didn't dress this way or carry myself the way I do, would you like me?"
"No, because you're not my type," he told her simply.
Rose figured she would let it go, but should have known better. It was Lily after all.
"What is your type?" she asked.
Scorpius shrugged. "The person I like, simple as that."
Aunt Audrey looked directly at Rose, eyebrow raised, for some unknown reason. Rose finished her cabbage, but barely. Roxanne was right. It did look like sad salad.
"That's rubbish," Lily scoffed. "Every man has their idea of a perfect woman."
Scorpius frowned. "I don't believe in perfection because the word, at best, is subjective and restrictive."
"Why do you say that?" Victoire asked.
"Perfection," Scorpius answered after taking another sip of water. "Doesn't allow room for development and open-mindedness, mistakes and failures. We all are flawed because we're human, but it'll be my acceptance of her for who she is—flaws, quirks, personality-clashing qualities, and all—that will make her perfect to me." He ran his hand through his hair, looking a little uncomfortable despite his honest words. "Hopefully, it's mutual; that we'll continue to grow and change together—not chasing perfection, but pursuing a goal to be the best versions of ourselves."
Victoire and her aunts looked rather fascinated by his response, while Rose chewed on her chicken and eyed the pot roast, trying to determine if she had room for a third helping.
"You'll make someone very happy one day, I think." Aunt Audrey smiled.
Scorpius adjusted his glasses.
Lily wore a probing expression Rose hadn't seen since she'd correctly deduced that Rose had quit Floo Regulations for the second time during their weekly family dinner. "You sound as if you already have someone in mind."
He glanced over at her, face as inscrutable as ever. "Perhaps," and his drawl was so nonchalant that he almost sounded like his father. Almost. His tone made Rose look up because she knew he was holding back.
And her cousin didn't have the knowledge of Scorpius' little cues that would have told her to back off, but Rose wasn't about to get involved. He could handle himself against Lily, who was staring at him with an almost challenging look. "Three weeks ago, you told me you didn't. What changed?"
Scorpius looked at her for a long time and said, "You ask a lot of intrusive questions."
Lily didn't look sorry, only committed to finding her answers. "Forgive my curiosity, but—"
"Sometimes, you remind me of my mother."
That was not a compliment.
Al cringed, but continued talking to Teddy because his key to keeping everything balanced between his best friend and sister was to stay as far away from conflict as possible.
It worked for him.
Rose whistled lowly, bringing her water goblet to her lips to take a long drink.
Where was the wine?
The very thought of being fair to Lily annoyed Rose to bits, but to be fair, she had no idea about Scorpius' very convoluted relationship with his mother. Al had known far longer than Rose, who had only found out Sixth Year when he'd showed up at her front door in the dead of winter, upset over the fact that his mother was trying to plan out his life. She'd kept his problems to herself, Al had too, so Lily and their cousins knew nothing. Their parents knew bits and pieces of the story, but never got involved as it wasn't their place. Over the years, they had just taken Scorpius in whenever he'd turned up with a metaphorical storm cloud over his head.
Had she known any of that, Lily would not have airily said, "Men often marry women who are like their mothers."
Victoire, who knew first hand from Teddy, shot Rose a look that bordered on uncomfortable.
Was there any Firewhisky?
"If that's my destiny, I'd rather not marry at all." Scorpius replied firmly.
She was about to say something else when Louis, who had started chatting with Uncle Percy about the History of the Ministry upon his return, tapped Scorpius on the shoulder to settle the argument about whether it was Eldritch Diggory or Albert Boot that was Minister during the Goblin Rebellion. Nerd stuff.
"Albert Boot," Scorpius answered automatically. "He resigned after; I believe."
Because of course he would know something like that off the top of his head.
Jane was listening with rapt fascination to Uncle Charlie's dragon stories. They weren't new, Roxanne had even heard the stories he was telling her, but he liked telling them all the same.
He enjoyed having fresh ears.
"The dragon broke free and flew high in the sky. I jumped on my broom and went after it, dodging the flames he blew in my direction."
"Poor Kombo, he was just scared!"
Charlie just blinked at her.
Not too many people had sympathy for a Hungarian Horntail.
"You're right," he smiled gently. "He was."
Each person had their own subtle way of checking up on Rose as news always spread faster than the speed of light in their family. But it wasn't terrible because, for once, they weren't in her face about it. Rose found herself answering more questions than deflecting. During dessert, her sleeve was up a bit and her Nan caught sight of discoloured skin. "All right?"
"Um." Rose pulled down her sleeve and held herself still, willing herself not to twitch.
Awkwardly, she looked around because it seemed that all conversation had ceased when the question had been asked. They all wanted to know. They all were concerned. They cared. Of course they did, she'd thought stupidly, but Rose was still on guard; still holding her feelings close. That was who she was and who she had always been, but perhaps just once she could…
Rose looked from her mum to her dad, Nan and Grandpa; around the table at aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. She recalled her silent conversation with Scorpius from that morning and remembered that it was okay; the vow she had made to herself.
Right.
Self-acceptance for the person she was yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
It was still such a strange awakening, but their presence had proven to her everything he had silently said. So, Rose answered honestly without jokes or diversions.
"I'm…not, but I think…I think I'm getting there."
And if she choked a little bit on her words, well, that was okay, too.
After dinner, everyone broke off in different directions.
Some had to leave to prepare for the next day, but most stayed. There was a group who helped her Nan clean, a group that went outside to start a fire in the pit to roast marshmallows and sing songs, and a group that went into their large sitting room to continue their dinner conversations.
Grandpa fell asleep on the sofa and snored something awful to remind them all where Al had gotten it from. Roxanne terrorised James in a way that screamed divine retribution for all the times he'd pranked and annoyed them all when they were kids. Too bad it stopped when her dad fetched her. Pity. She was upset about having to leave, but Uncle George reminded her that she had school the next day and they were learning about carbonation and taste-testing fizzy drinks and colas.
But the promise of sugary drinks wasn't enough to make her go without watery eyes.
After all, while Roxanne liked her classes and teacher, she liked being a nuisance far more.
James had promised she could terrorise him some more with the one Weasley Wheeze's item of her choosing. The way her frown was quickly replaced by a scheming grin that was identical to Uncle George made Rose wonder just what she had in store for James.
She wouldn't miss it for the world.
Roxanne skipped off with Uncle George without incident.
"I'm going to regret that," James said to no one in particular.
"Absolutely," Al grinned wickedly when his brother groaned and headed back to the Burrow for a drink. "Payback is a bitch!"
James shot his brother a single-fingered salute that made Al laugh harder.
Not too much after, Jane decided that it was perfectly clear outside and they should stargaze. So without much arguing, they ventured away from the fire pit group with her Nan's favourite large blanket and did just that. Rose had always had a passing interest in Astronomy, Al had none at all, but they watched Scorpius and Jane pick out constellations and talk about the mythology of each.
Hours passed like that.
More Weasleys went home, but each came by to say their goodbyes, interrupting the stories. Rose had never been hugged so many times in one evening, but that was mainly because she'd never allowed that many hugs in one evening.
Semantics.
It was weird, but not too terrible.
It was close to eleven when Al left to escort Jane back to her flat, leaving her and Scorpius alone. It was silent out; the bonfire had been simmering since Dominique and Louis had gone inside with their parents. They could hear the chatter coming from the inside the Burrow where everyone left was gathered, but couldn't make out anything particular. Rose did hear her dad's booming laugh and assumed her mum hadn't left him there. She picked out Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie's voices, Aunt Fleur's laugh, and Lily's screeching.
Scorpius was pointing out Corona Borealis and Rose found her thoughts wandering while he rattled on. There was enough light coming from the Burrow for her to see him. He wasn't animated, but it was close. Most of the time, Scorpius looked focused and brainy, but right then, he seemed relaxed as he recited about the story of Ariadne, Theseus, and the Minotaur.
They weren't quite touching, but lying close enough for her to quietly wonder just how that had happened when Al and Jane had been between them not too long ago. All thoughts of Jane took her back to their earlier conversation, where words like platonic and solar plexus and charged energy swirled around in her head until she blurted out:
"Do you think we have a special relationship?"
Well.
That hadn't been the best transition.
Hell, Rose had no idea why she'd even asked the question. Based on the way he'd frozen, she couldn't pretend she hadn't asked. Instead, she waited for him to drawl out something dismissive and sarcastic where they both would laugh at Jane's eccentricities and move on. Rose wasn't disappointed when Scorpius levelled her with a strange look and said, "I'm sorry, a what?"
"A special relationship." Rose repeated while scrunching her nose. "Jane's words, not mine."
He said nothing for a long moment before he smirked a bit, "I like her. She's a good person and an even better friend to you, but Jane is a bit… odd."
"Understatement of the damn decade. She took me to a bloody salt cave today." Rose shook her head, and looked over at Scorpius who looked humoured. "She's just finished a book on Feng Shui and is threatening to come to my flat this weekend to make sure the energy flows right. Or something. I have no idea what she's talking about a lot of the time."
"Neither do I," Scorpius confessed with a snort. "I don't know what Feng Shui is, but if it involves those bowls, I'm cancelling our plans."
Rose laughed at his discomfort. "I didn't know you hated them that much."
"It was loud and the sound seemed to bounce off everything. It felt like I couldn't move when she hit one of them." Scorpius told her, looking a bit put out. "Weirdest morning of my life."
"Seriously?" she scoffed. "I doubt that."
He thought about it and grimaced. "Well, not stranger than the time my Aunt Daphne drank too much at breakfast and explained reproduction to Al and I in graphic detail to while using sausage links and boiled eggs as visualisation…" He shuddered at the memory.
She laughed until her sides hurt and there were tears in her eyes as she imagined the horror on both of their faces.
Al's especially.
"Jane with the Tibetan Singing Bowls was far less traumatic, I'm sure."
Scorpius hummed in agreement.
Rose wiped her eyes and caught her breath. "I think she's just trying to help me in her own way. She's always telling me that I have poor coping mechanisms and I don't take care of my mental health."
He chuckled as he shifted, turning on his side, facing her; his body warm at her side and slightly blocking her from the cool night time breeze. He propped his head up on his hand and fixed his glasses with his free hand. "She might be right about that."
"Oi!" Rose shoved him, but there was no anger behind it and he just laughed harder. "The last thing I need is for you to team up with Jane and make it your goal to fix my energy with your presence," she joked with a roll of her eyes.
"What?" Scorpius looked at her peculiarly.
"Oh right," she rolled her eyes. "I forgot. Jane thinks your presence balances my energy." Rose chuckled, and couldn't believe she'd actually voiced the words. "Completely mad, right?"
He said nothing; smile fading just as another round of riotous laughter came from the Burrow. She wondered what was so funny, but her curiosity died when he said, "Maybe…or maybe not. It's all about perception. What do you think?"
Rose looked up at the sky and traced out Ursa Major with her finger. Once again, honesty came easy with him; easier still in the near darkness in the open field outside The Burrow on a clear night. "We've been friends for so long that of course you know me better than most everyone. It makes sense, in a way, that I would feel at ease around you. Not the way she was talking about, of course, but—"
"What way is that?"
Despite the coolness, Rose felt her face warm. "We agreed she was nutters."
"Even the mad make valid points sometimes."
Rose lowered her hand and found herself looking at him. Much like that morning, she found herself stupidly pointing out things she'd never noticed before: his expression was enigmatic, gaze strangely direct, and his blue eyes seemed to stand out more in the warm light that came from The Burrow. His hair was messy from both the breeze and lying down for so long.
And well, she had always liked him best when he wasn't so annoyingly put together.
She didn't know why she asked her question a second time. Honestly, Rose didn't really care much about the answer, but curiosity was such a changeable thing. "Do you think we have a special relationship?"
There was no hesitation in his answer. "Yes." Before she could question his sanity, Scorpius shifted a bit to get comfortable and continued, "For all the same reasons you've stated for why you feel at ease around me."
"That's no different from any other friendship."
Scorpius gave a half-shrug. "I don't have many friends as close as we are for comparison, but my friendship with Henrietta isn't like ours. Neither is my friendship with Al. He's my practically my brother and he's your cousin, but you…" he trailed off awkwardly.
"What about me?" she asked, fiddling with her shirt, bunching it in a fist and releasing it.
Chuckling darkly, Scorpius ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "I think it would be awkward if I thought of you as a sister, considering the fact that we've…you know."
Kissed.
Snogged.
Whatever verb fit in that gap.
Rose squirmed uncomfortably and Scorpius seemed to pick up on the shift in her mood. "I had no plans to talk about what happened. It's not the right time to add another issue on top of all your others. Yesterday, was…a lot, even on top of everything already transpiring. But when things calm down, when you're ready to talk about it, I'll be ready."
"It's not an issue," she replied stubbornly because all she wanted to do was crush the entire incident.
He didn't look convinced. "Whether we acknowledge it or not, it's always an issue when lines like that are blurred in friendships, especially ones like ours. I—"
She cut him off with a huff, rolling her eyes. "It was just a snog, Scorpius. It's not an issue unless we make it one. We're not the first best friends to kiss, and we won't be the last, I'm sure of it. There's an entire genre dedicated to that particular trope." Rose glanced up at the sky. "It doesn't have to mean anything. It happened, and to appease your fragile male ego, I'll even admit that it was good, except for the fact that you shocked me."
"Shocked you?"
Rose groaned. "Of course, that's the one thing you pick up out of all that."
"I caught the entire statement and have already ordered my rebuttals. First," he raised a finger to accentuate his point. "My ego isn't fragile, but I've been your friend long enough that not to take everything you say seriously, so I'll let that go. Second," he raised another finger. "I didn't need verbal confirmation to know that you didn't hate snogging me. I had to throw out that jumper because you stretched it out so bad with your incessant tugging." Before she could cut him off with a counter-argument, he added a third. "Third, I didn't shock you. I—"
She cut him off with a snort. "Oh, no you don't, Scorpius Malfoy. None of that 'Oh, no Rose, you shocked me' nonsense. I know how to pick up my feet when I walk."
He just blinked at her. "Of my three points, you want to discuss the last?" His eyebrow raised above the frame of his black glasses. "Pot meet kettle."
"Oi!"
Scorpius shrugged casually. "Fine, we'll discuss the last point. I could give you the entire breakdown of how static electricity works, but I don't think you care about the transfer of negative charges from one object to another."
Rose rolled her eyes so hard that she was surprised they didn't fall from her head. "If you want me to drop dead from boredom, then by the gods, go on then."
For a second, she regretted the permission she'd granted because his face shifted from cool and a bit amused to something close to intense. The last time she'd had the same expression on her face, she'd done something reckless to prove her point.
"Well," Scorpius fixed his glasses and ploughed on in the tone he only used when debating Henrietta. "Science lecture aside, your theory of me shocking you isn't based on anything logical."
Groaning at the academic shift in the conversation, Rose sighed. "I have real regrets now."
There was no stopping him when he went into lecturer mode. "Argument three part one: Al drags his feet when he walks, but only when he's tired or rushing. James, too. I never do, even if I'm at home. I'm certain my grandmother would sense it and lecture me from wherever she is about how my actions will only scuff her floors when I visit."
Rose laughed, but only because that was true. Not because he had a point.
"This brings me to my second part of argument three. Your theory would be plausible if carpet were involved, as the act of dragging your feet on carpet allows you to pick up electrons; which causes the imbalance that leads to one shocking the first person they touch."
"Your grandmother is far too dignified for carpet." Rose mocked without thinking, which only made his grin grow. His confidence had always been subtle, never overt like it was right then; a flutter of something passed through her.
There and gone, she barely spared it a thought.
"Exactly." Scorpius brushed his hair from his face. "No carpet. No imbalance. No shocking."
And there he was blowing holes in her argument. "Now wait—"
"Of course, there are other factors, but these points are the ones that are relevant to that night."
Rose shoved him without much intent behind it. "For the record, you're annoying when you get like this."
"Noted." Scorpius just grinned, face bright.
His smile struck her as reflexive; an unconscious expression of self-satisfaction, which was rare coming from him. Scorpius smiled far more at twenty-one than he did at eleven; so poised and methodical and private with his feelings that he never allowed himself to express the extremes of his emotions. Not like Rose. Not even close. In fact, she could count on one hand how many times he had smiled the way he was right then and two of the five times involved seeing his marks on both the OWLs and NEWTs.
Scorpius was destroying her argument bit by bit, but there was an interesting reaction that accompanied the damage. And it wasn't annoyance. Rose was the furthest from sentimental, but she liked when he smiled like that; brilliant enough to see the barely noticeable dimple he'd inherited from his mother. It was as if he were just remembering that he could grin like that and no one would weaponize his happiness against him.
Rose had to suppress one of her own smiles just to keep up pretences.
"I happen to have three other points and two addendums," he teased. "In the interest of time, however, I'll just skip to the conclusion."
"And that is?"
"That I didn't shock you and there are several ways to prove my point."
Rose's barely suppressed smile vanished. Oh right, that argument.
She opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut, suddenly annoyed.
Usually, Rose reserved her irritation for Lily and any other member of the human race that exasperated her. But right then, Rose was in the same mood she'd been in during Fourth Year when she'd shoved him into the Black Lake. Or two years ago when she slapped him in the face with a pillow because he wouldn't tell his mother that he had accepted a job as a Healer in the Trauma Unit over accepting a position he never intended to take in the Ministry.
But as soon as the frustration flared, it receded, melting away; almost as if her brain knew she could never stay cross at him over something so silly. Still, Rose sulked and glared petulantly; feeling all of twelve again when she challenged him with a simple phrase: "Prove it."
She could tell he hadn't expected her response because his self-assured look vanished; almost as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold lake water on him. "Excuse me?"
"Your point," she folded her arms defiantly, daring him. "Prove it."
"That's…not a good idea." His unease confused her because she hadn't expected it; not after the way he'd seemed so sure of himself before. "You don't know what you're asking for."
Rose cocked a brow at him. "I know exactly what I'm asking for."
"No, you don't." His face reverted back its default: serious and a little cautious.
And that irritated her for some unknown reason. "I'm asking—no, telling you to prove it."
"Um," Scorpius rubbed the side of his neck, showing how uncomfortable he was.
While he had never been too expressive, he wasn't emotionless either. Over the years, Rose had learned to read as much of him as she could through subtle cues, observation, and by piecing together his vocalised emotions with his facial expressions at the time. Lately, though he seemed very much himself, there were moments when he had been more guarded, wary.
Like right then.
"Does this mean that I win?" Rose asked, staring at him, watching as his face flickered from discomfort to stubborn resolve and finally to frowning determination.
"No."
"Then, prove it," Rose challenged again, smirking.
Scorpius had never been able to resist a logistics competition. She usually left testing his wits to Henrietta because Rose didn't fight wars she couldn't always—and confidently—win. But that night, she'd only instigated knowing he had no way to prove each line of his reasoning and their addendums or whatever.
She had won simply because he couldn't.
He accepted her challenge with a firm look on his face. "Fine."
Then his free arm extended, reaching over her body and finding her hand; touching with the tips of his fingers at first, then his open palm. Scorpius didn't move to hold her hand, but kept it like that.
"Did I shock you?" he asked, voice sounding just a bit strained.
"No," Rose answered, confused. What was he going on about?
Scorpius took his hand back. "You do the same."
With a roll of her eyes, she huffed and pushed herself up to a seated position, folding her legs. Silently, he moved with her, mirroring her; their knees touching. He held out his hand, fist closed, and after murmuring her annoyance with his pointless exercise, she closed her hand around his wrist. Nothing.
"You didn't shock me."
"Thank you for stating the obvious," she drawled, but it didn't have the same bite. Her voice sounded odd, like she had a mouthful of sand and no water nearby.
The air between them was increasingly heavy with something she couldn't define so Rose didn't try to label it. The connection, her hand to his wrist, remained and for some reason; her fingers were pressing down so hard that she could feel his pulse begin to quicken, completely in sync with her own. That weird feeling from that morning returned, accompanied by a light fluttering sensation in the back of her head that whispered: don't play in the flames.
Whatever that meant.
"I believe my point has been proven." Rose let go of his wrist, using that hand to run through her hair, tugging at a piece that got tangled in between her middle and ring fingers. Ouch. "I think I'll take winnings in pie, thank you."
"Not just yet."
His tone made Rose glance over at Scorpius. The look on his face was concentrated; eyes dark with resolve, jaw tight. Determined.
And well, sometimes, Rose had a tendency to be too confident; convinced of her own rightness that she missed one minor detail that would cause her entire argument to collapse and burn. For example, she had been so certain of her victory; so positive that Scorpius had no way to prove he hadn't shocked her that Rose had failed to take into account a small and not so minor detail of Scorpius' personality.
His mind worked like a scientist—always posing questions and solving problems. He learned by doing, observing and gathering evidence through each interaction. Right now, Scorpius had a hypothesis that he needed to test. The only way he could was by recreating as many of the same variables from that night as he could. But Rose had left him in a pinch for time and resources, so he worked with what he had. In her premature victory celebration, Rose had failed to realise the only obvious way that Scorpius could settle their argument.
"We agree there are no imbalance in electrons?"
Rose made a face. "Sure?"
He nodded and leaned a little closer. Apart from their knees down, they weren't touching; the space between them, although familiar, felt a little heavy, tense, muggy. She was only slightest curious about his thought process, but mostly, she'd zeroed in on his proximity.
Close, but no closer than usual.
However, there was that senseless warning again: highly flammable.
Weird.
Rose figured his closeness had something to do with the challenge she'd issued and his question confirmed her theory: "Nothing that would cause one of us to shock the other?"
"Based on your high-level overview, no."
He nodded once. "Very well then."
Based on his argument, subpoints and addendums, there weren't any negative charges. Which meant that she shouldn't have felt a thing when he leaned in the rest of the way, brushing his lips against hers once, twice before exhaling like it hurt and pressing his mouth to hers…right?
Except…oh.
But it was over before Rose could protest or process; push him away or pull him in. Not that she was set on which she would have done, but it didn't matter. Just like that, every shred of her awareness was zeroed in on him, on them.
And though everything was quiet between them, Rose's mind was in a state of disarray. That unknown feeling from that morning was there—the one that had been just a whisper; a flutter of something that hadn't felt wrong. Well, now it was louder, insistent; almost as perceptible as her own heartbeat.
His eyes were on her; watching, analysing, recording data. And Rose stared back, not having the good sense to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. Because she knew that he using his limited resources to prove his point.
And then she felt that zap of electricity again. It wasn't right, nor was it possible because they were already touching. Already balanced. But when his thumb touched her top lip, slid to the bottom, parting them slightly, Rose felt it all the same. Oh?
She almost missed him murmuring her name because his voice was throaty and a bit scratchy.
"Rose?"
Uncertain?
One hand was on her knee, but the other was still on her face; thumb sweeping across against her bottom lip over and over. His touch was so feather soft it almost tickled. Rose tried her best to focus on each point of contact to stop from crawling out of her skin, but couldn't. She was everywhere and nowhere; both outside herself looking in, and inside feeling everything; being pushed and pulled towards a place she wasn't familiar with.
A place that told her that what she'd felt was no ordinary shock.
Not a zap, a bolt, or a bloody shock.
Not electricity or energy or fucking electrons.
None of that.
It was…a sensation, a flutter of something subtle that had caught her unprepared. Different from the feeling that was currently drumming out the beat of her racing pulse, but similar in a way that Rose couldn't determine. Now that it had her attention, it made damn sure that she never ignored it again by sinking into her skin, settling in her muscles and drilling holes into her bones. The effect was instant and intense enough for the alarm in her head to sound.
Abandon hope all ye who enter here.
Well, that was dramatic.
"My hypothesis isn't wrong," Scorpius said, voice still low and husky; his declaration was accompanied by a firmer touch on her knee. He was warm despite the slight chill of the night.
Rose cleared her throat, feeling a bit like something was lodged in it. She couldn't decipher the look on his face, but knew she'd seen it the night of his party right before he had kissed her. It was a look she hadn't been able to identify as she'd never seen it.
And it didn't look like she would figure it out that night either.
"I'll prove it."
She wanted to tell him that he already had proven his fucking point; that he hadn't shocked her.
Fine.
Okay.
She could accept that, but acceptance brought about other issues. The first problem was that it was suddenly imperative that she determine two things: what the hell that shock meant and the identity of that weird feeling that was currently being a nuisance. The second problem was that Rose couldn't grasp at one thought long enough to hold on and let it guide her to understanding.
Truthfully, she needed a distraction; something to do with her brain to shut it all up, stop the incessant hammering, and find some fucking peace.
"Can I show you?"
There he was with the perfect – albeit stupid as hell – distraction, and because Rose made terrible life choices, she answered him in voice that was barely a whisper, "Yes."
Letting Scorpius kiss her – while stupid and impulsive – was as easy as breathing. The thought should have been far more alarming than it actually was—in that it wasn't alarming at all.
For several glorious seconds, Rose was able to ignore everything. The problems—established and newly realised. The zaps—that weren't zaps at all. The feeling that was annoying the ever living shit out of her. Everything melted away as her focal point narrowed on him and his mouth that moved against hers.
But it didn't last.
That odd feeling stopped hammering around and started speaking. In a faint whisper, it told her that the path to the clarity she sought – the solution to her problems – was to take its hand and follow it. Let it guide her. It promised to help. Teach her. Show her the truth. Answer her questions.
And while tempting, the rational part of Rose knew it was better to leave well enough alone.
But, if she knew what that feeling was, if it had a name, an identity, a reason for showing up; then perhaps she would be able to get rid of it permanently. Seemed perfectly rational, right?
Red alert.
Well.
Rose had proven time and time again that she did what she wanted—damn the consequences.
Obstinate to the end, she ignored both her good sense and the warning sirens in favour of kissing him back, giving her hand to that feeling she'd only just discovered. It never said its name, nor did it offer any answers—the lying liar—but instead, it relaxed and stretched out to the four corners of her awareness, filling every crack and crevice of her subconscious.
It wasn't necessarily a good feeling either. It felt like drowning—no, burning underwater.
But with each drag of his mouth and exhaled breath; each touch of his fingers on her face and the slow movement of his hand from her knee to her thigh, the feeling said confusing shit like:
It's okay.
I'm not lying.
Trust me.
This is the way.
And none of that made sense at all, but she was full, heavy with that feeling; too far gone to turn back. Rose slipped a hand behind his neck; the other fisting his jumper as she deepened the kiss, taking control. Because she needed control of something because everything was a mess. In one quick motion, she drew Scorpius in, but wasn't soft about it. No. Rose tugged with enough force to make her lose her own balance. A small noise, oof, came from her when she landed up on her back with Scorpius practically on top of her.
But not quite.
He'd thrown out both hands at the last moment to stop his body from crash landing on hers.
After grunting his discomfort, Scorpius shifted. Rose had a sarcastic quip right on the edge of her tongue, but he lowered his head and swallowed it, picking up where they left off. Okay then.
The hand on her was steady and not moving, but still felt as if a thousand of those small electric zaps were running through her. And that was…that was as problematic as it was improbable, but Rose casually let the backs of her fingers run up the back of his jumper, finding it curious that even with the light touch she used, she still felt his muscles jump.
Maybe he'd felt the shock, too.
Instead of focusing on what any of that meant, she kept kissing him, falling into a rhythm all their own where she poured as much as she could. It was deep and heavy and insistent—and that was all coming from her. Nothing from him. Nothing at all. And it was that urgency that spilled over and made her tug at his bottom lip almost roughly to draw some sort of reaction from him. And when he reacted with a groan, Rose gripped him tight—shit, not good—and apologised with each deep kiss that followed.
That's it, the feeling said. Go with it.
And Rose sank into it, giving and giving, but mostly taking every damn thing she could.
Because she could be a selfish shit sometimes.
Because it was both new and familiar, and that was fucking up her perception.
He smelled like grass and books and parchment, felt warm like hot chocolate in the dead of winter, tasted like the cinnamon candy Jane had given him before she left. The thought was asinine and foolish and everything sentimental that she absolutely hated, but it was good.
So good.
Too good.
And that was bizarre.
Because he's something different, the feeling told her. And perhaps that was true. Outside of the fact that he was one of her favourite people, Rose had never known just what made him different from the few in his league. Or how. Or why. What?
Well, if she really put some thought into it, Rose would admit to herself that everyone in that category was family. Al. Victoire, when they were both pissed. James, when he wasn't being a complete tosser. Jane wasn't family, but their bond was different from…well, from Scorpius. There, she admitted it. He was different and they were different.
And while she'd had her fair share of relationships, none of them had ever evoked that particular feeling in her…
And just where the hell had that thought come from?
Rose tried her best to smother it, but it was too late. The thought had been expressed and that bloody feeling perked up – its glee maniacal.
Exhaling against his mouth, she shut her eyes tight as that damn thing grew warmer and warmer inside her until it became an inferno. Rose could taste the ash on her tongue, smell it in the air around them, feel it on her skin. And she clung to Scorpius, panicked, because it was going to burn her alive.
Too lost in her own mind and too consumed, Rose tried to concentrate. He was there and his hands were there, and shit, even though every second was not a fucking good idea, Rose held on tight and built each kiss on the previous. Higher and higher, she climbed, intent on burning herself out before that feeling could.
After all, mutually assured destruction worked for everything.
She would burn on her own terms.
It was what she did best, after all. All she knew how to do. But in burning herself, she would burn Scorpius, too. And could she do that to save herself? Rose was selfish, yes, but no, she couldn't do that. Not to him.
She loosened her grip, just as his tightened. Okay.
Fast. Everything was fast, but there were no surprises, no awkward motions. Scorpius moved like a cat and without breaking the tempo she'd established, he adjusted, placing his knees on either side of her hips, resting back on his legs. He was settled before Rose realised what he had done and why he had done it.
Scorpius had always been so careful; careful of her and of himself.
Careful to keep his weight off her; careful not to trap her.
And Rose appreciated the gesture and their continued trust by tangling her hands in his hair, gripping and tugging, swallowing his groan and shivering when it vibrated in her chest. Her kisses were aggressive and unfocused, but demanding. What did she want exactly? That much, she didn't know, but Rose blamed that damn feeling…and perhaps the role Scorpius had played in its invasion.
Watchful of her wrists, Scorpius extracted one of her hands that was in his hair, pressing it down onto the blanket. The change in angle made him shift his knees a bit, widening them, relaxing his legs as he put a little more weight on her. Rose let him do the same with her other hand before she breathed into his mouth and sealed their lips together again.
There was a change in pressure and the heat.
The warning signal went off…and a switch clicked on.
She wouldn't burn it out so there was no outlet for the things building inside of her. Rose tried to share, tried to pour some into him with every kiss, every groan, every touch. But it was no use. Its heat pumped through her veins, tingling at the tips of her fingers and toes. She tensed and shivered when Scorpius' hand came back to her face, his thumb caressing her jawline in a move that caused her heart to jump to a place that it didn't belong.
Nope.
Rose tried to ignore the stuttering in her chest; the feeling and blood rushing in her head like a damn freight train. Instead, she focused on her new mission: finding a spot to bury that feeling deep. But so far, no good. Still, Rose was determined. She kept trying, pressing harder, opening up hole after hole. Nothing was deep enough; no cage strong enough to imprison it. She even tried to deepen the kiss; testing the water by sliding her tongue against his as if the act alone would tap into something deeper that would hold it.
But Scorpius wouldn't let her.
"Calm down," he whispered, sounding like he was being ripped open from the inside.
Well, that made two of them.
"It's okay," he grumbled. "Let me."
She wasn't sure what she was letting him do, honestly; but his tone, the firm confidence in his words and the years of trust between them, that made her go still. Just like that, Rose stopped her plotting, halted her planning, and ceased her excavating. And Rose truly exhaled for the first time since he'd kissed her, relaxing her muscles; the tension flooding from her body as his breath caressed her skin.
Slowly, his hand cupped her face and her eyes fluttered shut the moment his mouth met hers again. Scorpius kissed her with a sort of deep and honest fondness that made her want to split in three different directions at once. Instinctively, her hand went to his cheek, needing the contact to support her fragile control of her that feeling. And it was easier to focus on the warmth of his skin rather than the truth that his kisses were different and overwhelming and passionate and too fucking much.
Every move of his was so controlled and calculated, but not necessarily soft or gentle. He made her simmer rather than burn, and he seemed to put everything into it as if he were trying to tell her a story with his lips and tongue. All of it left Rose's head spinning as she tried to read and listen for comprehension, but couldn't because he kept touching her.
A little here, a little there; a slow hand travelled from her thigh to her hip, up her curve of her waist. The motion tugged her shirt up just enough for Rose to feel the cool air on her skin. Scorpius covered the spot with a hand that was too warm; their mouths parting slightly when she inhaled sharply.
Their eyes locked, both breathing harsh and shallow. Her insides were stinging with sensations, her heart pounding away like a jackhammer, making her body hotter than it had any right to be.
Rose looked at him for the first time in the near darkness and…Scorpius looked wrecked; a mess of wide eyes, flushed skin, and hair that stuck out in all directions. She could barely see the blue of his eyes; his pupils blown wide. He looked so unlike the Scorpius she'd known since she was eleven that it was almost startling, but also comforting because she felt exactly how he looked.
Exactly.
But even though he looked like he'd long since reached the end of his tether, Scorpius tilted his head in question, flattening his hand on her bare skin.
Too much?
It was almost instinct the way Rose put a shaking hand over his, eyes wide and too honest.
No.
That was all the discussion they needed.
A heartbeat passed and they were pressed together again, like magnets; the air between them pulled taut. His kisses dragged them deeper, further out where they crashed together like waves. The slow, open mouth drag of his mouth over hers made her insides clench and burn. All Rose could do was hold on, close her eyes, mix her metaphors, and ride each swell while burning all the same.
It was the most intense feeling of her life. That feeling wouldn't shut up.
This is it.
Keep going.
She found it all persuasive and tempting, beguiling yet contained; a promise of more of something.
Rose wasn't sure if she could take anymore of anything.
But she returned his caresses, running one hand up the side of his body; the other twisting his jumper in her fist while his hand absently rubbed her bare skin in a move that made her swear against his lips. All the muscles in the vicinity jumped and if Rose groaned, arching into him, well…it was that feeling's fault.
Scorpius broke the kiss, looking frayed and almost pained as he fisted the blanket next to her head. He took off his glasses tossed them aside like they meant nothing. Curiously, she dug her fingers in his side to distract him from whatever had made him stutter, then shifted and felt what was bothering him. Or not?
Well.
That escalated quickly.
Then again, maybe it didn't.
It was nothing.
Just biology and the brain working together; just millions of synapses firing all at once. Just interaction and chemical reactions taking place. Right?
And because Rose's stupid neurotransmitters were misfiring, she hooked her ankles high on his thighs, accepting more of his weight as she experimentally rocked against him once, twice; all the while watching his face cloud over with a strange feeling of fascination.
Not just at his wavering control, but at the heat that was pooling low inside her.
Okay. That was…different.
It was a position she'd been in before. She was twenty-one, not nearly as chaste as she'd been at sixteen when she'd first started fumbling around like everyone else her age. She'd had far more failures and disappointments than she cared to admit or think about, but that aside, Rose was fairly certain that none of her previous encounters with any of her exes had felt anything like this: too much, too soon, too everything, but not nearly enough.
And the pooling heat only burned hotter when Scorpius' control slipped and he ground his hips against her with a little more purpose. Once.
With pained breaths, he wrapped his arms under and around her, tucking his head in her shoulder, crushing himself against her, movement sharp and uncontrolled. Twice.
Someone was swearing and Rose just knew it was her. Three times.
Light-headed and nearly scorched, she mouthed at the skin where his neck met his shoulder and rocked her hips against him. Four times.
Rose dug her teeth into the spot she'd latched on to and Scorpius groaned deep like it physically hurt to stop, but he did, gasping hard with shaking hands. Or was it hers? Hell, she didn't know.
"We—we should stop," Scorpius suggested in a voice barely above a whisper; mouth hovering over her skin. He sounded like he absolutely did not want to do any of that, but put as much distance as he could between their bodies with her legs still around him. "If we keep this up, we'll have to explain to your grandmother why we had to burn her favourite blanket."
Oh right.
Fucking hell.
They were outside the bloody Burrow.
Snogging and grinding on each other like two lunatics.
Completely in full view of anyone who decided to come their way.
Shit.
Rose let out a rather strangled and hysterical laugh.
How else was she supposed to respond everything that had happened since she'd asked that stupid question? "I'd rather go flying with my dad than have that conversation."
Scorpius groaned. "Don't mention your dad. Not now."
Okay, shit. Shit. Shit.
She unhooked her ankles and they both got up, sitting right back in the position they started in: in front of each other, legs folded, knees touching. It was then that Rose noticed that while the lights were still on, still flooding the space around them in an odd hue, there was no more laughter coming from The Burrow.
How long had they been out there?
They got to their feet; their movements a little disoriented and slow. She found his glasses before he could step on them and put them on for him in a move that brought her right back into his space.
"Thanks," he murmured, staring at her intensely.
The air between them was still charged, still intense and potent.
Electric, the feeling supplied not-so helpfully.
The little shit.
Rose nodded, feeling almost as if she were still in a trance, torn between screaming and sobbing. Her vision blurred all at once as everything caught up to her and slammed into her from behind. Breathing raggedly, her head was pounding. She felt crushingly awkward, panicked and manic enough to start laughing again; fucking terrified and overwhelmed in a completely different sense. She was still dazed by what had just happened and her psyche overall was still fucked up from the last month and…shit.
She was about to lose it. Again.
The only reason she didn't because he draped her jacket over her shoulders. Numbly, she put her hands in the sleeves and let him carefully fasten each of the three buttons and fix the collar in an unnecessary move.
"Are we going to talk about this?" Rose blurted out in a voice so unlike her own that she hated it. Then she hated it more that she couldn't stop herself from worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and looking at him with wide eyes. "Everything is changing and I can't—"
"Rose." Scorpius said nothing else after that, just her name, but he was watching her closely with a look he often wore when he played—and lost to—her dad in wizard's chess. He was trying to figure her out—or maybe himself?
She wasn't sure because she couldn't spare a single thought to investigate him.
And yet, he cupped her face with his hands and spoke to her in a voice that cut through the fog and the craziness of her swelling emotions. "It's late…and it's been a long two days. You aren't in the mental space to discuss this, and honestly, neither am I." She put her hands on his wrists to steady herself. "I meant what I said about discussing all this when you're ready—"
"It may be a while," she told him truthfully. If ever.
"It can wait." He was so earnest that it calmed the storm in her mind. "I can wait. As long as you need."
She exhaled. "Thank you."
He only nodded and his next movement was small, but she saw his eyes flicker to her mouth, then back up to hers. And before she knew what she was doing, she raised up on her toes, pausing just a hint of a second before kissing him.
Oh, it was most definitely thoughtless and she wasn't wholly sure why she had done it. As a thank you? Partly. But honestly, she'd done it because she felt her eyes watering and couldn't just stand there any longer. Not with him looking at her like that, so open and breathtakingly genuine. Not with him speaking to her like that, so steadfast and direct. Not with her feeling both out of control and at some sort of strange peace. Not with everything churning noisily inside her head and her heart beating wildly in her chest.
Rose half-expected something far less intimate since they weren't lying down under the open sky or in a position equally as cheesy, but found nothing had changed. She wasn't exactly shocked at how easy it was, but focused more on how natural it felt to kiss him. How good it could be when she wasn't fighting it or threatening mutually assured destruction.
She focused on the air and the warmth between them; the way Scorpius groaned when she licked into his mouth and how the noise seemed to make the not-so cooled lava course down her spine. He held her close, with confident but shaking hands, deepening the kiss to something far more intimate—and a lot more terrifying. If it were anyone, she would have screamed and ran for the hills.
But Scorpius had never just been anyone, right?
Everything, every action and move, was making Rose's mind stutter and stall. And a stalled mind was a mind that wasn't processing or deflecting; one that wasn't busy burying everything under layers of soil and concrete; sarcasm and defence. Honesty escaped from a crack in her foundation and whispered to her that—whether she knew it or not—she hadn't been entirely truthful with herself.
What was that supposed to mean?
Scorpius broke the kiss and took a full step back, releasing her abruptly. "Pick up that end and I'll get this one."
Numbly, Rose helped him fold the blanket. Then he grabbed his jacket, not putting it on, but holding it close. They didn't speak as they walked; the floating lights on the path turning on and off as they passed under them. They walked by the simmering fire pit and benches, the flower garden, and the bird bath. He held open the side door for him and she deposited the folded blanket in the bin for washing.
Now came the hard part: manoeuvring through The Burrow without detection.
An excellent plan considering they both looked positively dishevelled.
Rose automatically knew her hair was hopeless and she felt clammy; not to mention her heart was still pounding out the rhythm of her edgy energy. Scorpius was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears, eyes distracted, mouth red, and hair wrecked.
Silently, they walked through the kitchen. There were dishes washing themselves in the sink, but everything else was clean and as tidy as Nan's kitchen was allowed to be. Rose peered up at the expanded clock that told her that her parents and everyone was at their respective homes, except for a few exceptions.
Well, shit.
James, Uncle Bill, and Uncle Charlie were enjoying a nightcap together in the dining room and she tried to pass by quietly, but the floorboard squeaked and they all looked over at them. Her cousin acknowledged their presence by offering them a drink with a big grin, while her uncles looked at both of them curiously. Then, they exchanged looks. Uncle Bill's brow went up and Uncle Charlie finished his drink in response.
They spoke their own language sometimes and Rose never understood it.
"Come on then," James pushed. "We've got plenty."
Scorpius still sounded a bit throaty when he said, "I've got an early shift at the hospital."
Five points to him for the smooth lie.
Rose knew for a fact that he didn't have to be there until ten.
"Fair," James shrugged then looked at her hopefully. "Rose?"
"Um," she patted down her hair and faked a yawn. "I'm tired. It's been a long few days."
Desperate times called for desperate measures and playing the sympathy card that soon worked.
"Oh," her cousin sat up straighter, eyes filled with concern that went completely against his personality. "If you want, I'll see you home."
"No, that's okay. I just need sleep." Rose spoke up quickly. "Scorpius will take me home," And he added a casual shrug of her shoulders. "It's perfectly fine."
"I'm sure it is," Uncle Charlie muttered. Uncle Bill almost choked, but coughed several times while hitting his younger brother in the arm repeatedly. Scorpius took a step back and Rose just looked at him as if he were nutters.
No need to act any weirder than they looked.
"What?" James looked at their uncles strangely.
"Oh, nothing," Uncle Charlie poured himself another drink, laughing. "Let's finish up here and let them get their…" He looked directly at Scorpius, who went stiff as a board. "Rest."
Uncle Bill smirked, and it was one she hadn't seen from him ever. "Scorpius, you've got something right there." And gestured to his neck. Where Rose had bitten him. While they were—shit. She hadn't noticed it before. How exactly she'd missed it, she didn't know.
It was massive.
Rose held her breath, but Scorpius kept his answer short and to the point. "Bug bite."
Bless him.
James seemed to finally notice it. "It looks like a—"
"We fell asleep in the grass." Scorpius reasoned, sounding very much like himself. Thank Christ because she was scared for a moment that he'd been abducted and replaced by a pod person. "All sorts of creatures are out this time of year."
"True." Uncle Charlie replied, "All sorts of…" And looked directly Rose. "Creatures."
Bloody hell, they knew.
James, however, didn't suspect a thing or else he would have been a lot more annoying.
So that was one small favour.
Rose cleared her throat and grabbed Scorpius by the hand, turning it over so she could glimpse at his watch. "Oh, look at the time. We'll leave you three to it. Don't get too pissed then."
"Only if you don't do anything I would do."
She hated her Uncle Charlie so much.
So damn much.
Rose gave him a two-fingered salute that made both her uncles laugh hard and all but dragged Scorpius from the doorway and down the hall in the direction of the drawing room; her uncles' amusement and James' confused 'what's so funny?' chasing them all the way.
The worst.
And because her life was hard, her Nan was knitting Dominique's Christmas jumper with two others magical knitting needles going on either side of her. She had to start early if everyone was going to get one. One had a H and the other had a R. Hugo and Rose. Or her parents. Uncle Harry was still in the running, but not Roxanne. Neither were yellow. That was her favourite colour.
Her grandmother seemed a little surprised to see them, but grinned all the same. "Got cold enough out there, I see."
Rose's eyes widened and Scorpius went stiff as a board. "Huh?"
"I told Lily to go get you ages ago, but she must've gotten distracted talking about her fashion line and gossiping about other celebrities to Victoire, Dom, and Fleur and simply forgot." She chuckled whimsically, "Oh, that girl," and smiled fondly before she continued knitting. "Are you staying the night then? Bill and Fleur are staying, Louis and James, too. We have plenty of room."
"Ah, no," she answered quickly. "Scorpius is going to see me back to my flat."
Her Nan smiled warmly at him, "Such a good boy."
"We just came in to say goodnight," was his contribution to the conversation.
Still smiling, her grandmother bid them both a warm farewell. She told Rose to let her know if she needed anything, and she nodded quickly before backing out of the room and pulling him with her. They went down the hall to the sitting room, peeking in to be sure that it was empty before moving towards the Floo.
They stopped by her flat first.
Rose packed a bag, then decided to take a shower to clear her mind.
Did it work?
Not one damn bit.
Still more than a little restless with an unfamiliar energy, Rose reminded herself that there was no rush and changed into warm sleeping trousers and a long-sleeved Slytherin shirt. When she went into the living room, Scorpius wasn't there and she figured he'd gone ahead to his flat to shower and prepare for bed.
After checking her wards, Rose left, stepping out the Floo at Scorpius and Al's flat moments later. Al was snoring away in his room, sounding like a bloody foghorn because he'd forgotten the damn silencing charm. Rolling her eyes, Rose fished out her wand and put up a charm so they all would sleep.
Scorpius was already showered and sitting on his bed in night clothes. His hair was still wet and the mark on his neck was as red as ever, but he looked far more like himself than he had when they were outside or inside when he seemed almost in a daze until they started asking about his neck. Rose breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't broken him—or herself—and knocked on his open door, alerting him to her presence.
"Hey." Rose dropped her overnight bag next to the door.
He echoed her greeting then gestured to her arm. "Do you want me to look at them?"
It couldn't hurt. "Okay."
Scorpius helped her roll up her sleeves so he could examine them as he had that morning. They looked no better than before, but she hadn't expected them to be healed. Not that soon. After applying the salve where it was needed, Scorpius sat the tin down and went to roll down her sleeves, but Rose stopped him because of her own restlessness.
She glanced over his shoulder at her dinosaur painting he'd hung up, then at the bowl she'd made that sat next to the moving picture of them, Al and Henrietta, taken on their last day at Hogwarts. There was another photo of them when they were younger sitting on his bookshelf front and centre. She had been asleep in front of a bonfire and Scorpius was curiously running his fingers through her hair and looking at her. In fact, the look he was currently giving her was similar; mostly mystified, but there was curiosity and something else…
Hmm?
Scorpius said her name carefully. "Rose?"
Without thinking, she reached out and touched his face with the tips of her fingers, watching him intensely like she had outside. The determination flared in her; to figure out the little things about him that she'd only recently begun to realise she didn't know or understand. Where to start?
All Rose knew was that her heart was suddenly pounding in her chest. She thought back on snogging him outside, them moving against each other, the shock that wasn't electric, and everything about that bloody feeling that had been following her around since.
Fuck that feeling.
It was a massive pain in her ass anyway.
And yet.
In Muggle Studies Third Year, they had learned about Isaac Newton and how he'd discovered the existence of gravity because he'd been hit in the head by a falling apple. Not exactly a true story, but entertaining enough. Rose, having already known the story from Primary School, never understood how the hell falling apples could lead to theorising about the same force that kept the planets aligned.
But right then, it made sense, and it made her think about her own situation.
Three times, she'd felt that electric sensation when she'd kissed Scorpius—or had fallen into his face—whatever. Or was it four? Five? Rose had lost count, she'd felt it so many times tonight alone, but it didn't matter. She never found out its identity or where the hell it wanted to take her, but Rose was smart enough to know that it would be back.
When something happened once, it was an incident.
Twice was happenstance.
But three times? Four? Five?
That was a pattern.
That feeling was a pattern and the not-zaps were, too.
Rose could do the same thing over and over—kiss him at a different time, on a different day, in a different scenario—and expect the same reaction with the same not-zaps. She could drop as many apples as she could from any tree and they all would hit the ground. And like gravity, that stupid mysterious feeling was a fucking problem—an issue that she couldn't ignore, fight, or bury.
It was there to stay.
When she finally settled under the covers next to Scorpius in the darkness at his suggestion because it was nearly one in the morning, that feeling crept down the aisle and sat on the front row of her thoughts, watching her, waiting for her to address it. But she wouldn't—no, couldn't.
Not when her mouth was dry and her heart was racing.
Not when all she could think to ask was: what are you?
Scorpius shifted a little closer. "Rose?"
"Hmm?" And cringed at how strange she sounded.
"Are you cold? You're shaking."
No, she wasn't, but knowing all she knew and a lot she didn't, Rose still shifted closer to him anyway. She needed the contact; the reassurance. Of what? She wasn't sure, but she wouldn't rest without it. Soon, Scorpius was pressed against her back, their legs entwined. He was spooning her; their breathing was in sync. And finally, finally her heart slowed and the last bit of jitter in her muscles went still.
There was a lot on her mind still, and more clanging around in her chest. It was all tremendous and scary, just like everything else outside of his room with her ugly dinosaur painting hanging on the wall. But Scorpius was warm and all she could feel was his solid presence against her back.
Rose exhaled and closed her eyes.
She meant what she'd said before; that their kiss had a right to be just a damn kiss. It would only be an issue if they let it. But as she drifted to sleep with Scorpius' even breaths on the back of her neck, his arms around her and his chest pressed against her back; Rose's defences were low enough for her to acknowledge one thing:
She'd never been more wrong in her life.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of JK Rowling. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Okay now we have lift off of the romance-variety, awkwardness and insecurities and gah-I-messed-up and all. The holidays (and The Rise of Skywalker) slowed me down so I'm posting now to prep for the wait. I'm all of 6 pages into chapter 15 and trying to organize the next set of events perfectly. I get obsessive like that. Cause it's about to get a bit wild. The first kiss was just that, a kiss. Easy to write off for Rose, but this one? Rose can't write this one off and she now knows that...and she's a bit messed up over it. Scorpius, too. Oh, and Hermione gave Rose two days to recoup and she's gonna get back to business (her timing will not be great). Barracus, too. I love complicating things. Anywho. Dinner with the Weasleys in the Burrow. Absolutely favorite thing to write about, could write a whole book about their family dinners, everyone's little interactions and hilariousness. Roxanne is adorable and very much George's kid, as I imagine. Late to the party (with her being a whoopsie kid) and causing chaos in her wake; giving James a run for his money. And Scorpius' bit about his type? That conversation was not planned at all. And as you can see, Jane and Quincy's talk with her wasn't exactly a failure. Not at all. Bill and Charlie at the end? I was literally dying laughing as I wrote it. Yes, I'm the type that laughs at my own jokes. Don't judge me.