Waking up the next morning with a ring on her finger and the unconscious body of Scorpius Malfoy beside her, Rose Weasley would swear on pain of death never to touch a drop of liquor again. Belatedly, she would bemoan - drink was indeed the devil's poison! - and stare despairingly at her new husband. But that is a story for the morning after.
Right now, Rose Weasley was simply stuffing her face with food, wholly unaware of the storm that was to come.
It was the wedding of her cousin Albus to Emily Longbottom. Ordinarily, a wedding between the descendants of two war heroes would have attracted as many paparazzi as fleas to a wild cat's bottom, but the two childhood sweethearts had chosen to have a private evening affair instead. In a picturesque glade a stone's throw away from the Burrow where they had met and played together as children, a wedding arch, chairs, fairy lights and a makeshift aisle had been set up. It was a simple but sweet ceremony. The happy couple had eyes for no one but each other, and couldn't have cared less if it was just the two of them and God for witness. Still, vows were exchanged, tears were shed, and now the couple was free to be as lovey-dovey as they liked in a corner, while the guests danced, ate, and mingled. The band Lily had arranged for the wedding was not bad, but Rose had to confess that all her attention was fixed on the grub. With Emily's mother, Hannah Abbott, the current proprietress of the Leaky Cauldron, in charge of the wedding menu, the feast was nothing to joke about. Laid out on a long table were scrumptious bar bites, melt-in-your-mouth mains, rich desserts, and - most importantly - free-flow alcohol. As the overworked Head of the Ministry of Magic's Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects, rare were the times where Rose could sit down to a proper meal, much less a good one. There was always one more report to look over or one more artefact to check. Rose could not remember the last time she had gone out for drinks with her friends. Needless to say, she had no time for a relationship either, and had brought no plus one with her.
This last thing was a point of much grief for her grandmother Weasley. With her children happily married and nothing to do in old age, Molly Weasley had begun reading the melodramatic romance stories serialised in the Daily Prophet to pass time, and, greatly moved, made it her personal mission to play Cupid for her grandchildren. Rose in particular was the subject of her deepest concern. A serious and ambitious child, Rose had always been happier surrounded by books than by people, and though she had made a small but solid group of friends at Hogwarts, that was also where her social circle stopped. As a Ravenclaw and one of the rare non-Gryffindors of the family, Rose was rarely involved in the rowdy hijinks of the Weasley bunch, and this self-contained cerebral life only intensified when she was scouted by the Ministry of Magic right after graduation as a promising young talent. Now, Rose Weasley basically lived and breathed work 24/7. Molly Weasley worried about her, and when Molly Weasley worried, Molly Weasley nagged.
"Rosie, darling," she said, setting a plate down beside her guzzling granddaughter.
"Hrr, grmma," replied Rose through a mouthful of roast chicken.
"How've you been, darling? Brought anyone today?" probed Molly with twinkling eyes.
"N-," Rose swallowed with much difficulty. "Nope, happily married to my work as always."
Rose grinned, and resumed her attack on the chicken. She stuck her tongue out to the side as she sawed into the chicken with her knife, a habit she had had since childhood whenever she was concentrating on something. It lent a lovable, child-like look to her, with her bushy ginger hair and round, silver glasses that were always sliding off her small, upturned nose. Molly sighed a loving sigh.
"Rosie dear, I know you love your work, but work isn't going to be there to give you a cup of warm cocoa when you return to an empty home at the end of the day. Are you sure you're taking good care of yourself?"
"I don't need someone to take care of me, grandma, I take care of myself just fine. Plus, dealing with other people just adds to the trouble. If I have to hear Undersecretary Moggins go on about what to gift his girlfriend for a hundred-and-twenty-fifth-day anniversary present one more time…"
Molly interrupted her grousing. "But, Rosie-"
"It's no use, grandma," a pair of tanned, muscular arms wrapped themselves around Molly Weasley's neck. "Our dear Rosie's never going to get attached, and she's never going to get married. You're better off spending your time and energy helping me instead."
"Hugo…" Molly turned to look at her grandson. If Rose's problem was that she had too little interest in romance, her brother's problem was that he had too much. Today as well, his well-gelled hair was already mussed, and there was a trace of lipstick on the collar of his white dress shirt. Molly had long lost track of which new witch it was her grandson was currently dating.
"Grandma, could you tell Mr Ollivander over there that I'm really serious about Ada and to stop banning her from coming out to meet me? Merlin's beard - she's already 23! Grandma, surely if you're helping Rosie you'd help me as well right? Right?"
He put on his puppy dog eyes and tugged her towards where the esteemed wandmaker was standing with his elegant family. Molly shook her head, but agreed to be led towards them. As they left, Hugo looked over his shoulder and sent Rose a conspiratorial wink.
Rose chuckled and reached for a goblet of firewhiskey distractedly. She had long gotten used to questions about when she was going to get a boyfriend, whether she'd thought about ever getting married, would she like to be introduced to a friend of a friend? The topic would inevitably crop up at every large-scale gathering of family and friends, and while Rose knew it came with good intentions, it was getting rather frustrating. Weren't there more meaningful topics to discuss between relatives?
As her fingers touched the stem of the goblet, she felt a man's long, slim fingers close around hers, and whipped back her hand with a start. Startled, the man did the same, and in a split second the goblet of golden liquor had tipped its contents onto her dress and fallen to the floor with a solid thump.
Rose looked down at her dripping, sage-coloured dress in despair. The light-coloured fabric was absolutely ruined now. How was she going to return it to Lily?
As Rose stood frozen in shock, the man bent down on one knee and began wiping at the stain with his pocket square. He looked up in apology, and Rose took notice of his identity for the first time.
He had a fine, angular face that was slightly on the thin side. A few strands of white-blond hair had come loose from his slicked back hairstyle and cast wispy shadows over his eyes under the dim fairy light. These eyes, a light grey, held at the moment a slightly troubled expression.
Rose recognised him the moment she looked at him - Scorpius Malfoy, former captain of the Slytherin quidditch team.
She had often heard Albus complaining about him and swearing to beat him at quidditch during family gatherings. Since he had been invited to the wedding, however, she guessed they must have been closer than she had thought. While she had been aware of his existence as a high-profile individual in school, their paths had never crossed, and she had naturally never spoken to him before.
"Let me," she said, moving to take the handkerchief from his hands.
He handed her the handkerchief and stood beside her as she rubbed at the stain. As expected, it would not wash out without water. Rose looked towards the porta-loos set up in a corner of the glade. There was a long queue, and besides, it would be inconvenient to wash out her dress with everyone watching.
She searched her memory and recalled a small stream not too far away.
"Don't worry too much about it, er, Scorpius. I'm sure it'll wash out fine with some water. I'll just go and get it settled. You have a good time!" Picking up the hem of her dress with one hand and holding onto her plate of food with the other, Rose smiled awkwardly at him and turned away.
The woods near the Burrow were tame, but it was still inconvenient to navigate them in a formal dress with both hands occupied. Still, Rose had nowhere to put her remaining food, and it was such a waste to throw them away… She pouted a little inside, but persisted in pushing her way through the trees. Suddenly, she felt her hand lighten. Scorpius had followed her and was now holding onto her plate. He remained silent, but seemed bemused at her insistence on keeping her dinner. Rose tried to dissuade him from following her, to no avail, and the two of them continued their trek forwards.
Soon they came upon the stream. It was about 15 inches wide, and quite shallow. Rose squatted next to the stream and began washing her dress.
After watching for a moment, Scorpius spoke up.
"Why don't you use scourgify?"
Rose blushed. His voice was deep but clear, and cut through the quiet night like crystal. It was an attractive voice that matched an attractive man. But she blushed mostly because… she had completely forgotten that she could have used magic.
What with the dress being the usual women's type with no pockets and her lack of a purse, Rose had kept her wand in a rather unusual place. She reached into the bust of her dress and pulled out her wand. She did not want to look at Scorpius' face as she did this, but if she had, she would have seen a very slight, red flush flash across it.
Rose's dress was of a strapless, flared out design, an empire silhouette with a beaded sweetheart neckline. It was a flattering, classic look, but, being a borrowed dress, did hug her curves a little tightly. Rose's figure was voluptuous, a fact that had embarrassed her ever since she hit puberty, and she usually hid it under layers of baggy clothing. Today morning, however, when she had gone to Lily's to borrow a dress as planned, she was horrified to find that Lily had only picked dresses which emphasised the bust. With an impish smile playing about her lips, Lily had blocked the doors to her closet and said in a sing-song manner that it was time for Rose to own her figure. She had refused to even provided Rose with a matching shawl to cover up, arguing that an outdoor wedding in midsummer couldn't possibly be cold.
Conscious of Scorpius' presence, Rose kept her head down as she cast the scouring charm followed by a drying charm upon her dress. Her exposed, freckled shoulders, pale in the moonlight, were now flushed a thorough red. Even the nighttime breeze that blew across the stream and lifted the sweaty curls around her neck could not make her crimson bloom retreat.
The silk lining of a man's formal blazer settled about her shoulders. Rose looked up in surprise, but Scorpius only smiled in a shallow, gentlemanly way as he bent his head towards her and adjusted his jacket.
He stepped back, and a silence settled between them that felt almost tangible. Unaware of the man and woman standing silent on its bank, the stream behind them bubbled away without a care as they looked each other over in the moonlight. The pale wash of blue made Scorpius look more ethereal than ever, and it accentuated in contrast the liveliness of Rose's red cheeks, red ears, red hair…
"Shall we return?"
Scorpius asked.
Rose hesitated. She did not know what to do with his jacket. It would be rude to return it to him immediately, but neither did she want to face her relatives' probing questions…
All of a sudden, she remembered her food.
She looked down at Scorpius' hands.
They were empty.
A chuckle escaped from Scorpius' lips as he picked up the plate from a nearby rock and passed it to her.
"I did not know Rose Weasley to be such a glutton."
"I'm not! It's just really good food, okay?" She waved a chicken drumstick at her accuser. "Try one."
He hesitated for a moment, then took the meat from her hands and bit warily into it.
A giggle escaped Rose's lips. It was just a piece of chicken.
Having lost her cutlery somewhere along the way, Rose picked up a slice of roast chicken from her plate and slurped it into her mouth. Mm. Even when cold, Mistress Abbott's cooking was superb. Next, she bit into a piece of English chocolate pudding, and closed her eyes in gastronomical bliss as its melted core oozed into her mouth and stained her lips. 10/10. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for having the foresight to pack dessert.
Scorpius reached towards her plate to pick up a mini chicken-and-mushroom pie. He finished it in one bite and reached for another. Rose glared at him. He left the last mini pie alone and changed targets to the chunky chips in the corner.
The two of them soon polished off what was left of Rose's dinner. It had dispelled the awkward silence between them, but left them hungry for more.
"I think the wedding's about to wrap up. Shall we go into town instead?" Rose proposed. "I know a pretty good pub down in the village."
"Sure," Scorpius smiled.
Rose grabbed his arm and apparated the two of them away.
The village drinking hole was an old and traditional one. It did not have a name, but was instead identified by a swinging sign painted with a unicorn's head and two crossed roses. Still holding onto Scorpius' arm, Rose pushed open the door of the pub and shouted to the landlady, "SEATS FOR TWO PLEASE!"
The place was small, but packed to the brim. There weren't many places to go on a Sunday night in a quiet village like Ottery St. Catchpole. "WHY, IF IT ISN'T ROSE! BROUGHT YER BOYFRIEND EH? YOU TWO DARLINGS HEAD TO THE CORNER SEATS THERE!"
The landlady, a plump, cheery looking matron with ruddy cheeks and a dirty apron, pointed towards a small table with two seats half-hidden in the corner of the bar. Rose shouted back, "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!", but the landlady had already turned to another customer.
"Sorry," She said once they were seated, "Mrs Cranpole's just very friendly. I've been coming to this bar ever since I was of drinking age, you see."
"I didn't know you were an alcoholic on top of being a glutton," He smirked.
"Oh stop it you. A Weasley's gotta catch a breather from the Burrow from time to time. What'll you have to drink?"
"I'll have a Firewhiskey"
"Ah, I forgot to tell you." Rose lowered her voice. "This is a muggle establishment. How about a Jack Daniels?"
"Who's Jack Daniels?"
"It's a brand of whiskey."
"Ah… " He nodded. "I'll have that then."
Rose shouted to the matron, "ONE JACK DANIELS, ONE GNT, AND SOME PORK SCRATCHINGS PLEASE!"
"Phew."
Scorpius was looking at her again with an amused grin. "Didn't expect that loud voice to come out of you."
"What?"
He bent closer to her and whispered into her ear, "I said, I didn't expect such a large voice to come out of such a small body".
His warm breath tickled at her cheeks, and Rose blushed. It seemed like all she was doing in his presence today was to blush.
"It's a noisy bar. I'm not usually this loud."
"So what are you usually like?" He continued to speak into her ear, but Rose scooted away, self-conscious. Too close.
"I, er, I work in the Ministry? In the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects, yes." She managed to answer.
"What a mouthful."
"It's basically just dealing with cursed or malfunctioning objects out there in the market. I'm sure you've seen your fill of those in Malfoy Manor."
"The reputation of my house precedes itself again, it seems." He smiled wryly.
"Oh no, it's quite interesting really. The objects in themselves. I've always thought of Malfoy Manor as a treasure trove."
"You could come to check them out sometime," He said casually.
"Oh, thank you, Scorpius! That'd be wonderful!"
Rose's eyes lit up and she beamed at him. All previous tension gone, her mind was already racing ahead thinking of all the famous - and infamous - cursed objects she'd long wanted to study that were rumoured to be kept in Malfoy Manor.
"Do you think I could bring my team along? I'm sure Officer Edwards and Undersecretary Moggins would learn a lot too."
"Moggins… and Edwards..?"
"They're my colleagues! They're older than us, so you might not have seen them at Hogwarts, but they're good guys, I swear, all of them." Her megawatt smile shone even brighter as she talked about her team. "Officer Jonathan Edwards, certified cursebreaker in ancient objects, and Undersecretary Bernard Moggins… well, he's just Undersecretary Moggins. He gets a bit annoying when he goes on about his girlfriend, but he's really good with record management. Last week, we got a rather finicky bag of who-knows-what confiscated off Knockturn Alley. Oh, not Borgin and Burkes, we've rather cleaned that place up. One of the backstreets off -"
She caught herself, and sank sheepishly back into her seat, stealing a glance at Scorpius' expression.
"Sorry, I tend to go on about work… it's one of my bad habits. How, er, how have you been?"
Scorpius tilted his head at her, bemused.
"I mean, err, since Hogwarts! Yes, since Hogwarts. It's been a long time - and, um, quidditch? Do you still play quidditch?"
He laughed. "I see you haven't been reading the Daily Prophet, Miss Weasley."
"You were in the papers?"
His laugh deepened. "Scorpius Malfoy Shuts Down Holyhead Harpies with Minute-Quick Snitch Snatch. Wednesday's headlines."
Rose's mouth rounded into an 'o'. She had not expected him to go into quidditch professionally. Even Albus hadn't, and he was crazy about quidditch.
"I'm surprised you still showed up at the wedding then. We're basically a Harpies family, you know, because of Aunt Ginny."
Scorpius shrugged insouciantly. "What better wedding present could I give Albus Potter than a reminder of my quidditch prowess? If he hadn't landed himself in the Hospital Wing chasing me on a Wronski Feint, I'm not sure he'd have gotten together with Longbottom." He grinned.
Their drinks arrived at this moment, and he raised a toast to her.
"To Potter and Longbottom."
"To Albus and Emily."
The bar would not close till the following morning, and Rose and Scorpius kept the drinks coming. Cocktail after cocktail, glass after glass, from GnT to Vodka, the duo who had not met since Hogwarts days reminisced and shared stories over liquor till they were plastered and slumped upon the table.
"Scorpiusss," Rose slurred, raising a finger to poke at his nose. "You mushn't be so bad to your fansss. They," She hiccuped. "They like you as much ash I like my curshed rings and bracelets." She hiccuped again. "WHY CAN'T A GIRL LAIKE WHAT SHE WAHNNNTSSSS. I JUST-" She hiccuped and seemed about to cry. "I just want to spend all day with my pretty babiesss…. don't disturb me…." Her head fell back onto the table, and Scorpius subconsciously lifted a hand to cushion it.
He grabbed her poking finger with his other hand. "You!" He said, glowering at the finger. "You don't know how hard it is being chased by crazy fangirls! It's easy for you to say! Cooped up in your office! With Edwards or Mundungus or whatever!"
"Ish Mogginnssss.." Murmured Rose.
"Moogins, Moggins, who cares! Moggins is attached!"
"I knowwwww…. He won't stop going on about it… Gramma won't stop going on about it…. The whole family won't stop going on about it… Albus is attached and Hugo is attached and Lily is attached and Roxanne is attached and they won't stop going on about it….." Tears started dribbling down her face, and she wiped at them clumsily with her free hand. Scorpius released the finger he was holding and brushed away her tears with his palms.
"Don't cry, Rosie, don't cry…" He coaxed.
"I'm nottttttttt….." She sniffed and looked up at him with large watery eyes. "Why are you calling me Rosie? Who are you? I don't know you…"
"I'm Scorpius Malfoy."
"Malfoy." She interrupted, and sat up in her chair all of a sudden.
"MALFOY IS ATTACHED TOOOOOO!" Wailed Rose.
Scorpius hastened to cover her mouth with his hand, but she bit down hard on it instead.
Sucking in a pained breath, he looked sternly at her, grey eyes piercing her brown ones.
"I don't have a girlfriend, Rosie."
"Don't call me Rosie! You.. you philanderer! You have tonss of girlfriends.. you.. you cheater! SCORPIUS MALFOY IS A CHEATER!" Rose stood up and yelled, her chair falling to the ground with a crash.
The entire pub's eyes were on them as Scorpius, not to be bested, stood up as well, and mushed her lips to his in a kiss.
Amidst the room of catcalls and whistling, the two people in the centre of attention seemed completely ignorant of anyone beyond themselves. Scorpius, having made his point, was about to release Rose from their kiss when she, eyes closed, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips onto his once more. Her kiss was graceless but earnest, wanting, and Scorpius felt a fire light within him. Emboldened, he pulled her into himself, one hand entangled in her curls, one hand pressing on her waist. His thin lips pried open her plump ones, and as they exchanged breaths and tongues it was as though time stood still for them to consume each other.
At long length, they parted, her body collapsed upon his, his, stumbling as he caught her. Before they could lock lips again they were chased out of the pub by a chuckling Mrs Cranpole, who shouted at them to get a room and told Rose she'd send her the bill later.
Rose did not hear her. Outside the pub the streets were deserted, the village shoppes all closed and the cobbled pathways illuminated only by dim yellow streetlamps. Rose felt as though there was no one else in the world but her and Scorpius.
She felt herself being pushed against the glass display window of the shop beside the pub and kissed again. Her slipping glasses bumped against his high, aquiline nose, and with an impatient hand he snatched them away, putting them where, she didn't know. Vision blurred, she clung even tighter to him, her fingers grasping at his back, her hands crumpling his dress shirt into bunches.
With his free hands he propped her bottom up against the window, such that she was half sitting against the glass, and moved closer till her legs parted around his waist. Her long dress was in the way, and seeing there was not much he could do about that, his lips left her lips instead to travel down her neck, her shoulder, her chest…
Rose whimpered, at which Scorpius paused and looked at her searchingly, searingly.
"I.. I can't do it without being married…" She mumbled quietly, and bowed her head in shame. He must think me such a prude, she thought. He's not going to like me anymore.
She hated her timidity, but this was all new to her, this intimacy, this wanting, that in truth she was afraid.
His lips left her body, and Rose was suddenly conscious of how cold the night was, even in the height of summer.
"I'm sorry, Scorpius." She said, and felt the urge to cry, but even in her drunken haze she willed herself not to drop a single tear. Not now, Rosie, not in front of him.
She felt the weight of Scorpius' body lift itself from hers. He straightened up, adjusted his collar, and placed his hands against the glass to steady himself.
Then he hugged her.
"Let's get married then."
And he apparated them away.
For the Malfoy estate, grand, ostentatious, home to peacocks, not to have a chapel on its grounds, even if just for show, was impossible. Was what Rose thought to herself as she landed in front of the altar in Scorpius' arms.
"Wait here," He said, and apparated away again, returning a moment later with a ring box in his hands.
"Rose Weasley," He said, kneeling on one knee. "Will you take me, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, as your lawfully wedded husband?"
His voice echoed in the empty chapel deeply and solemnly, but Rose could hear an almost imperceptible tremble. She herself felt slightly unreal. Moonlight poured through the stained glass windows of the Malfoy chapel, illuminating the bodies of the couple clad in formal clothing. The strong but gentle light casting neither a shadow nor a shade, as though to leave them with not a shred of doubt.
"I do."
He put the ring on her finger, and kissed her.
What happened next must not be said, for the newlyweds consummated their marriage right there on the chapel floor.
Rose awoke the next morning feeling like a horde of cornish pixies were screaming in her ears and banging on her brain.
"Euuugh…" She groaned, and groped for her glasses where she always put them beside her bed. Instead of the familiar feeling of her bedside table however, she felt something warm that rose and fell beneath her fingers. Opening her eyes just a chink, she found that it was the naked body of a man.
Rose shrieked, and scuttled backwards, her back banging into the wall… not. She turned, and made out what looked like a pulpit. She looked around frantically. She was in… a church?
How did I end up in a church? What time is it? Where am I? How far am I from work?!
She raised her arm to check her watch, and saw two things that made her shriek even louder than the first.
One, she was stark naked.
Two, there was a wedding band on her ring finger.
She looked back to where the naked man lay. A familiar bundle of green fabric lay beside him - her dress! She tiptoed back towards him and put it on carefully. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus, she muttered under her breath. Better not to tickle the sleeping dragon till she could figure out what in the name of Merlin's baggiest underpants was going on.
Without her glasses, she was unable to make out who the man was without moving closer. All she could see was a shock of white-blond hair, a thin, angular face, and a slim but muscular body whose chest expanded and contracted peacefully in contented sleep. Only when she moved close enough to feel his breath upon her face was she able to see closely - it was Scorpius Malfoy.
At that moment, he opened his eyes and gazed at her warmly with light grey eyes.
"Good morning, Rosie."
