Before he could get out a single taunt, she jumped to her toes and planted a peck on his cheek. His eyebrows lifted at the warmth. She immediately attempted to flee, so enthusiastically in fact that the magic keeping them in place nearly knocked her on her arse. Malfoy caught her blinking form and smirked down at her, grateful he had the opportunity to gloat. When she tilted her head at him rather than vocally questioning the situation, glee flittered through his stomach, past his heart, and right out of his mouth. "You won't be getting away that easily, Red." He chuckled, eyes raking across her flushed cheeks. "No more loopholes, not since year before last. Cheeks, foreheads, noses, hands... The mistletoe isn't so lenient on anyone over the age of ten anymore. You have to mean it."

"What?!" she screeched. He cackled. The way his chest shook against her back reminded her that she was practically enveloped in his arms. Rose straightened in a hurry, spinning to face him head on. "That's... disgusting, what-"

"Don't worry, love, it also hasn't trapped any blood relatives since... around the same time. I've got ten galleons on James as the culprit, by the way." His eyes were twinkling.

She could hit him.

"Absolutely not."

"Scared, Weasley?"

"Never," she snapped, though he didn't appear convinced. It was her turn to laugh. "What on Merlin's green earth do I have to be afraid of?" Her eyes smoldered, blush slowly fading. "I merely have no interest in locking lips with you, of all people."

For a moment, she thought she may have actually hurt his feelings. It didn't last long, though, as the twinge of insult in his pinched face was quickly replaced by a suspicious smirk. "Oh, I don't know, Weasley," he spoke in slow, hushed tones. He glanced away, crossed his arms, and angled himself so his knees neared hers but his back centered against the doorframe. When his gaze slide back to hers, she was certain she'd never seen him quite so cocky. "Perhaps you're afraid of my reputation."

"Your reputation?" she asked flatly.

"Yes, my reputation. You've complained of it before, actually. Rumor has it," he dipped his chin, "one good kiss from me is enough to make anyone fall in love."

There was a beat of silence. Then, "You think I'm afraid I might fall in love with you?"

The incredulity in her voice would have been enough to knock him down more than one peg, if she'd been dealing with Hogwarts-era Malfoy. "Stranger things have happened, Red." His smirk was going nowhere. She was disappointed to find the debilitating the effect she'd once had on him seemed to have worn off. "Don't worry. As you were lucky enough to experience tonight," his voiced lowered with his eyelids, words spoken evenly as could be, "I'm excellent at catching the women who fall all over me." Had he gotten more arrogant? Or was she going soft?

The moment she began to question herself was the moment she decided that whatever this game they were playing was, she was going to win it. Her spine straightened, and she tipped her head back as her fingers found his chin. "Oh, little scorpion," she sighed as her fingertips slid along his jaw, her other hand finding its way up his abdomen to press against his chest. She watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat, and it brought a smirk to her lips, which she wet for effect. She let her eyes pause at his lips before meeting his. Just to mess with him, really. "It's not me I'm worried about. No, I'm quite sure that where hearts are involved..." Her voice was nearing a whisper, her fingers firm where they splayed around the back of his neck. One tickled at his hairline, her thumb pressing against his throat. Her eyes flashed, and something in him snapped at the sight. Unsure if he was still breathing, she ran her thumbnail across the underside of his chin until she was cupping his cheek, and brushed her thumb over his bottom lip. She saw his eyes darken, the shake in his exhale bringing satisfaction to her smirk. "I'd be the end of you, Malfoy."

The words were practically purred, so matter of fact; and when he attempted to chase her lips with his, she stopped him by leaning back and moving her hand back to his throat. A storm filled his eyes. She quirked a brow at him with a smug hum. Her fingers hooked in his tie. His fingers twitched.

"You're a very poor interrogator."

She was taunting him.

This was the opposite of what he'd wanted.

Scorpius scowled down at how absurdly proud of herself Weasley looked. He expected her to give him an evil laugh any moment, maybe hex him for good measure. She looked taller, somehow. When had she turned the tables on him? Because she'd been unfortunately correct: he was one poor interrogator. He couldn't even remember what he'd been trying to interrogate her about.

Snarling, he gripped her hip, pulling the lower half of her body closer to his. The fire had died out from her eyes, which merely twinkled up at him with obvious amusement - and then the thought occurred to him that Elspeth was inside, and if she happened to walk out at that moment, the hungry way he tugged Weasley against him probably wouldn't look very ingratiating. He slammed her back against the other side of the doorway, elbow braced just above her head, if only to give himself some illusion of control. That brought a flicker to her eyes, and when that brought the smirk back to his face... she blazed. He felt his sanity return to him with a swell of satisfaction.

"Where have you been?" he found himself asking, with perhaps a pinch too much wonder.

"Hmm. Most recently would be Hokkaido, I suppose."

"You suppose?" Scorpius wasn't sure how she managed to keep her tone so casual while looking at him like that, as if her fingers weren't tugging at his tie and hooking into his belt loops.

"I was only there for a night, you see. Before that was Sri Lanka, and before that was Kigali, Bali, Kabul..."

"You really get around." He thought she might have taken that the wrong way - hoped she might, really - but she looked like she not only understood the double entendre, but approved of it.

"Quite," she said simply, tugging at his belt. He swallowed.

"And what were you doing in these places?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Quite." They quirked eyebrows at each other. Weasley laughed. He thought she seemed far too comfortable. He bent his head as if to kiss her, expecting her to push him away - but she instead raised her jaw and tossed him a defiant look. At least that was something, he supposed. "You seem oddly at ease for a witch trapped with someone you supposedly can't stand the thought of - how did you put it? - 'locking lips' with."

"Do many people you know want to kiss their sworn enemies?"

"Is that what we are, then? Sworn enemies?"

"Do you have a better word? Nemesis, perhaps?"

He shook his head slowly, their noses brushing. Her calf was rubbing against his, fingers fiddling with his buttons. His forehead leaned against hers, eyes fluttering closed as his fingers snaked into her hair. She hooked her leg behind his and jabbed him in the back of the knee, simultaneously shoving him in the chest and - mercifully - just above his groin. He absolutely did not yelp. Nope. That would be too undignified. No, he growled.

She stepped over him, one leg on each side of his, caging him in; and that was when he noticed the dress she was wearing featured two long slits that began at the front of each of her hips, and spilled away from her thighs as she knelt over him. She didn't stoop low enough to get on her knees, and she was in heels. His eyes flicked over her, pulse frantic and thundering.

He tried to shake himself out of it. "Why do you appear so determined to stay? If I'm your nemesis?" He braved a hand on her cheek, but she intercepted. Fingers entwined, she pressed his hand to the doorframe above his head. "Is this really how one treats an enemy?" he asked with gravel in his voice, hips rising to meet hers.

"What can I say, Malfoy?" She shrugged one languid shoulder, and her free hand ground into his hip. She had him pinned at every point except his legs, which he bent in a panicked rebellion that only managed to provide her with some butt support. "I have always relished watching you squirm."

He remembered with a start that he had one free hand still, and before he'd even processed that fortuitous tidbit of information, that hand was tangled in her hair.

Not that Rose had ever wondered what kissing Scorpius Malfoy might feel like, but she'd be cursing her shock for at least the rest of the night. He kissed with his entire body, like an especially hangry incubus. Not sloppy, but crashing in tides, his teeth tugging at her lips and tongue taking advantage of every opportunity to taste hers. His body rolled with every parting of his lips, propelling his mouth into hers again and again. At some point, he managed to get his other hand free when she'd been so set on keeping him from pulling away that she'd used the caging hand to get ahold of his jaw.

Sure, they hadn't exactly lain out a set of rules beforehand, but being the first to pull away felt an awful lot like winning - and the last thing she wanted to do was lose.

He fisted her curls with a vengeance, and she pulled him closer by the knot of his tie. Why he was so formally dressed for a Burrow party she'd never understand, but she was hardly complaining. She tugged at his hair in return, and he surprised her again by throwing his weight forward.

Now, that just wouldn't do. If she had to snog him, there was no way she was settling for bottom.

She moved to roll them over, but the tricky bastard used her weight to lift her bodily from the floor. The blond slammed her back against the wall, palms having made their way to the backs of her thighs before she could react. He managed the entire maneuver without breaking the kiss, too. She growled, nipping at his bottom lip. He chuckled into her mouth.

Chuckled.

The audacity!

She pressed one hand to his throat and used the other to scratch viciously down his chest, eliciting a growl that had her chuckling back in turn. His mouth moved to her neck and her head lolled to the side. It was when her eyes fluttered open a couple seconds later that she saw: the mistletoe was gone. "Malfoy," she tried to get his attention, but her voice came out so traitorously husky that his response was to nip at her collarbone and grind his hips into hers. Her eyes fell closed involuntarily, but she caught herself. "Scorpion," she hissed, yanking at his pale blond locks - which were looking thoroughly mussed, she noticed with some gratification. He smirked up at her, mouth chasing hers again. Her eyes widened as his body rolled, lips crashing into hers. Like the tide coming in. Her attempt to speak sounded an awful lot like a moan when muffled by his hungry mouth. "Mistle... toe..." she managed between kisses, "Gone."

He didn't seem to hear her.

When his fingers inched suspiciously close to her already scandalous hemline, she pried him away from her. There was an odd, almost dazed smile on his lips, which kept nodding back toward her. His eyes were liquid mercury.

Merlin, the man was on another planet.

She ran her thumb along his bottom lip, chest full of pride and the tiniest dash of... fascination.

"Malfoy," she said again, and would never admit that the salacious look he gave her at the sound brought a blush to her cheeks. "It's time to come back to reality, little scorpion," she whispered. He merely tilted his head at her, thumbs rubbing distracting circles into the crook of her thighs. "We should probably get to the party, don't you think?" When he shook his head and kissed her again, she grunted and slid her legs to the floor - which had the unfortunate side effect of leading his greedy hands right to her arse. He squeezed, and she shoved at his chest. His eyes flashed ravenously, lopsided grin taking over his face. She lifted her eyebrows, dodged his grip, and practically skipped through the kitchen, content in her victory.

Her escape from the doorway seemed to knock the sense back into him, as evidenced by the deliciously despondent "Oh, bollocks," he muttered as she sauntered out of the kitchen and into the party.

No one noticed her at first, so she took a moment to appreciate her relatives in their natural habit before announcing herself. Her triumph over Malfoy only served to amplify the warmth in her belly; she had quite the pep in her step as she moved to make her presence known with a cheeky, "Alright, which one of you wankers thought it was a good idea to tinker with the mistletoe enchantments?"

The room exploded with voices, and she was swept into a frenzied crowd of familiar faces. Hugs and kisses, shouted questions and affectionate scolding; family and friends alike enveloped her.

Merlin, Rose was glad to be home.