Saturday 25th February

He didn't know why she was still here.

Scorpius' father had always insisted their family secret remain just that—a secret. Draco spent most of his adult life attempting to convince the wizarding world the Malfoy's weren't bigoted—anymore, and having the secret outed just proved his critics right.

They were almost right, however. It wasn't as though the hatred his family faced was unjustified. His grandfather had played a significant role in helping a tyrannical racist nearly rise to power, and it was still debatable whether or not he regretted his actions. Scorpius guessed he was remorseful that he was almost punished, and that he was largely inconvenienced, but he chose not to talk about it.

Scorpius was in the curious position of loving his grandparents, but being aware that they—Lucius in particular—weren't 'good' people. He was reminded of as much whenever the topic would stray to politics, or blood purity, at family dinners.

While his grandparents would do anything for him, they'd always spoiled him, he didn't think that would extend to bringing a non-pureblood girl home.

That was the reason he'd been mostly raised at Greengrass Manor, leaving his grandparents to Malfoy Manor. It had been the cause of, yet another, fight between his father and grandfather, but Draco refused to budge. Greengrass Manor was significantly smaller than Malfoy Manor, but Scorpius preferred how warm it always was, and how he didn't have to spend his days traipsing empty hallways in search of something to do.

He much preferred his mother's parents, anyway. He'd even told Nana about Rose, keeping her updated with how Rose was doing, and how Scorpius felt about her—which hadn't changed over six years. His Nana had even insisted he bring Rose over for a visit, despite the curse, even though Scorpius could've listed a thousand reasons why that would never happen.

But still, he didn't know why Rose was here.

When he'd told her about the curse, it had been his attempt at a goodbye. He knew she'd never reciprocate his feelings, because it was what he'd intended. But he thought he owed her the truth, because seeing her so furious over him was like a kick to the chest. So, he'd sat on that rock, his whole body locked up that the knowledge that 'this was it'.

For so long he'd been unable to let go of Rose, despite all the reasons they were impossible, and used the façade of rivalry to keep her close. But the line of keeping himself in her life, and remaining despised by her, was a thin and awful thing.

But with the truth, he'd finally decided that was it. He couldn't keep clinging onto her, it wasn't fair, she needed to recognise that none of it was her—it was all on him.

Rose had taken time to process what he'd told her—and she'd told him as much. She'd been largely absent for the week, only slipping in and out of classes and never saying a word to him. The muscles in his neck were sore from how hard he'd clenched his jaw, stopping himself from saying something every time she skirted around him, not meeting his eye.

But now she was standing in the doorframe of his Slytherin dorm, looking over Albus' shoulder and directly at him.

"You're not busy, are you?"

Albus looked back at Scorpius in shock—he'd assumed Rose's visit was concerning him, naturally. All Albus knew was that Rose had disappeared briefly during his pre-birthday drinks and returned with a gift from Scorpius and no explanation for where she'd been. For all Albus knew, Rose hated Scorpius with an unbridled passion and wanted to push him off the Gryffindor Tower.

Scorpius couldn't blame him though, he was pretty surprised himself, "Ah, no. No, I'm not busy."

She angled his head, and if Scorpius wasn't mistaken, a smile threatened the corners of her mouth—probably because Albus looked like the world as he knew it was crumbling before him,

"I don't suppose you'd want to join me in the library, then?"

Albus' mouth had now dropped open, and it was almost as satisfying as having Rose speak to him again,

"Just let me grab my bag."

The walk to the library was awkward in ways their interactions never had been before. It was funny, he'd taken for granted how easy it was to talk to Rose—even she was punching him, or he was tearing her to pieces, it came with an ease their current silence lacked.

"I assume you know what you're doing." They were traipsing up the main staircases, and Rose had a determined set to her jaw that always meant trouble.

"I was thinking we'd start in the general section first, but if necessary I could probably get permission for the restricted section—and judging by the nature of the curse that'll be where we find the most material. I was thinking of writing to my uncle as well, he's a curse breaker so he'd probably—"

Scorpius slowed, "That wasn't what I meant."

"I know." The almost-smile was back again, so he knew she was finding some amusement in his surprise, just as she had in the dormitory.

"What changed your mind?"

She stopped too, a step above him on the staircase, meaning they were practically eye to eye. Scorpius was too aware of the fragility of their positions—that Rose could just lean forward, closing the gap between them, and stop her own heart. To think such an innocent gesture could end such a horrific outcome was enough to quash any arousal stirring in Scorpius at their close proximity.

"Who said it changed?" there was a tentative invite in her voice, a little mischievousness, like she was testing their boundaries on not just a physical level.

"I assumed the threat of constant near death was enough to put you off me." Scorpius' pulse picked up a little as her eyes darted down to his mouth, looking less wary than he would've liked.

"I think you're oversimplifying it."

"And I think you're underestimating the severity of the situation."

She was still watching his lips, and as he spoke, she lifted a finger as though she threatened to trace them. He instinctively jerked away, his stomach clenching in horror and she watched carefully, the silence between them stretching to an uncomfortable length.

"I know there are only two options, really. Solve it, or live with it. And I'm trying the former before I settle for the latter." She was meeting his eyes with such careful concentration that he knew she was asking him to read between the lines, find the confession in her cryptic phrasing.

Scorpius was utterly horrified—it was an unspoken of everything he'd ever wanted to hear from Rose, but he knew the danger this would put her in. He'd spent six years trying to ensure this never happened, but it seemed like he'd utterly fucked it up somewhere along the line,

"You're an idiot."

"Am I?"

He shook his head, "This isn't a game, Rose. You're the one who'll end up dead if we go too far, and you're not recognizing how serious that is."

"Let's fix it then."

He wasn't sure if he admired her determination or was exasperated by her stubbornness, "You think my father hasn't undertaken his own research? You think we've just enjoyed a debilitating curse for hundreds of years because we like it?"

She frowned, "So you've already given up?"

It was an attempt to make him rise to the challenge, they'd always been deeply competitive when it came to each other, and she knew better than anyone how to bring that out in him,

"It's not like that, Rose, I just know when I'm on the losing side." He sighed, "All of this was meant to drive you away—any sane person would have run far, far away from this entire situation—"

She lifted her hand carefully, as not to spook him, but he flinched anyway, still terrified of how close they were. Putting space between them was a reflex, having the consequences hammered down in his mind by his father, using the distance as a safeguard.

But she didn't try to touch his mouth again, instead she carded her fingers through the hair by his temple, and Scorpius forgot how grounding she was, and how easy it was to miss intimacy with someone who meant something.

"Why won't you let yourself have this?"

Maybe it was the way she was playing with his hair, but it seemed Rose was becoming an outlet for his truth, and he was slipping into a terrible familiarity with it,

"Because I know I can hurt you, and I'm terrified."

She sighed, "And you think the other option wouldn't?"

Her hand dropped, and he would've felt a pang of guilt if it wasn't a constant presence in his gut.

There were footsteps up the staircase, they both went quiet as a group of rambunctious second-years stampeded by—their obvious, scurried excitement completely at odds with the sombre tone of Rose and Scorpius' conversation.

Finally, after another minute of silence, Rose broke it, "I know you're worried, but at this point, I don't think it's your decision to make. I took a week, I considered the dangers, and this is where I arrived. I think you just need to give up the reins and have faith that the responsibility of your curse can be halved. I'm a big girl, Scorpius. We can do this together, if you let me."

It was a habit to let the name slip, and before he could stop himself, he sighed,

"Roza…"

Her face lit, and she knew that she'd won, and before he could move away, she was pulling him into a tight hug. He knew hugs were safe, her face was nestled into the crook of his neck, he could feel her smile against his skin, just above his collar. It was overwhelming, all the same, her scent, her hair, the softness of her pressed firm against him and knew she was right—there had be a solution, or a good attempt at one, because keeping her at a distance wasn't something he could do.

Tuesday 28th February

It wasn't really a choice.

It was either to be hurt by his presence, or by his absence. Rose would rather hold him at a carefully considered distance than not have him at all.

That was Scorpius' first problem—he thought it was a decision Rose was qualified to make. And maybe if she wasn't in love with him, she would've made the right one.

But, it was the most grounded she'd felt in a long time. Finally having something to tie Scorpius' erratic and irrational behaviour to was satisfying, as was the idea of having a goal to work towards and a problem to fix. Solving a kissing curse was reasonably clear cut, and more favourable than attempting to sort out a relationship between them, and maybe realizing that they wouldn't work together.

Instead Rose could pretend a kissing curse was the only thing that would keep them from being perfect, ignoring the years of mutual cruelty they'd inevitably have to work through in an attempt to build a functioning relationship, after lust and the initial excitement had died.

But Rose didn't have to think about that, she had a kissing curse to solve.

The worst thing, however, was that she couldn't tell her friends. Scorpius was adamant the truth stay between them, he was still ashamed and in the habit of keeping it secret, so remained firmly between them. Her friends were confused as to why she wasn't slamming doors in Scorpius' face—why she was skipping off to the library at every spare moment to spend time with him.

She wanted to explain that she hadn't caved, that Scorpius' remerging role in her life and her resulting happiness was understanding, not surrender. But Scorpius' curse was his truth, not hers, so she kept it under wraps and away from her prying friends.

Rose liked it when they were alone, anyway. She liked skim reading books at his side, resting her legs in his lap, and having him nurse her paper cuts. Intimacy was nice, for once, but died pretty quickly when she crossed one of his invisible barriers, and watched him freeze in dead fear. He was so restrained, and so very careful with her.

Rose had previously assumed his body language was disgust, but now she recognised frenzied restraint that was well-practiced, and she marvelled and how he held himself back, and wondered why he'd finally cracked on the Potions desk.

"We haven't really considered the boundaries of the curse."

Scorpius looked up from the tome he'd been hunched over. She could tell he didn't believe in the research, but was entertaining it to placate her, a feeling she wasn't fond of. But another set of eyes was useful, and the undertaking would be twice as arduous without his help.

"Huh?"

"I mean," she shifted, and she didn't notice her skirt had slipped until his eyes dropped and then nervously darted away, and she tugged it down, "you can't kiss me on the mouth, we assume. Does that mean I can kiss you, say, on the neck? If I initiate it, will it still trigger the curse?"

"I don't…"

"It wouldn't make sense, I guess, if you were asleep and I kissed you somewhere, and then I were to die. That's hardly your fault, wouldn't the curse account for that?"

He scoffed, "I don't think my ancestors would imagine their offspring looking twice at filthy blood, let alone falling asleep around—" he paused, realizing he'd slipped, "I'm not saying you have filthy blood, I—Merlin, you know I don't think like that, I—"

"I know." She cut him off quickly, chewing her nails in thought, "I licked you, didn't I?"

He blushed, and she could almost see what he was imagining "You—"

"Don't be crude, I mean at our Quidditch game. I licked you on the cheek, and I'm not dead, am I?"

He frowned, "No, but I don't know why licking would count as kissing. And what, are you going to lick me on the cheek every time we want to kiss?"

She laughed, "No, but I'm just saying, there must be some things the curse allows for. Shouldn't you know?"

He scowled, "Probably, but I hardly went around testing the 'parameters', did I? On account of having a deadly curse, and all—"

Rose's frustration matched his, like always, "That's not what I'm saying, you idiot, I'm just trying to look at this from a scientific perspective, rather than a fatalistic one—"

"Well, I'm sorry that being fatal since birth has given me a fatalistic outlook, and I'm not all bloody cheery about the fact that I can't bloody kiss you, and—"

She sighed, "Scorpius."

He dragged his eyes from where they'd been glaring at the floor, and met hers with resignation, "Rose."

She tried her best at a smile, "You're killing me here, Scorp."

He glowered, "That is not funny."

A/N: We're nearing the end, partly because you can't really drag this plot out for too long, and I'm started to lose a little bit of inspiration for this fic, if I am honest. I know this twist seemed out of the blue, but there are clues here and there - I just didn't want them to be too obvious because that would've spoiled the twist. Again, thanks for lovely reviews!