Folie à Deux

by ItsLeviOsa-NotLevioSA

"In truth, if the last six years had been any indication, sharing the Head position with Malfoy was going to be awful; living with him insufferable. Then again, although he was as caustic as ever, nothing outrageous had happened between the two yet. True, it was only Wednesday, but for them, it was almost a record." My best attempts to write a believable high school fic. Enjoy!

19. Let Your Body Get A Tolerance

Chapter 19: Is It Legal To Do This? I Surely Don't Know or, Let Your Body Get A Tolerance

Rating: M mainly for language, and I can't discount any funny business later on

Disclaimer: I work with only what J.K. Rowling has given me.

---

Spring had finally arrived at Hogwarts, and just outside of the Entrance Hall, a line of carriages pulled to a stop, and from the third, a boy with dishwater blonde hair leapt out, his feet barely hitting the ground before he took off into the castle.

"See you in a bit!" Toby yelled over his shoulder, disappearing inside in seconds.

Scorpius followed much more collectedly, holding the jacket that Toby had left behind as he exited, and he joined the second wave of students all making their way into the castle.

As tempted as he was to look around him, he didn't; his gaze remained forward as he began to ascend the staircase, keeping pace with the rest of the students. He didn't want to see her like this anyway. Not with all of these people around.

It was only when he had passed the sixth floor, when the people and the noise had left him alone, that he realised how tight his chest had grown, that with it was the urge to go faster, to get there sooner, which was...not entirely new. But he kept his pace steady, watching his shoes as they passed each slab of stone, and suddenly, he could hear the familiar twang of an old guitar, a soft, humming melody drifting over and under it.

He wasn't nervous. Scorpius didn't get nervous.

"Good afternoon, John," he greeted, coming to a stop at the portrait.

"Afternoon to you too," John Wyatt replied pleasantly, bracing his guitar against his knee and tipping his hat. "Glad to be back?"

"Always am," Scorpius said.

As John plucked at a conversation about his holiday, Scorpius felt his mind begin to turn, his eyes straying past the portrait and towards the door behind it, and he felt his ears strain as they tried to pick up any sounds from within.

"You'll be wantin' to go in, then, huh?"

Scorpius blinked, bringing his attention back to John. "Sorry?"

John grinned, and there was a knowing look in his eyes that made Scorpius feel slightly unnerved. "The password, tenderfoot. Then you can get on in." He cleared his throat, his smile still wide. "She's already in there, by the way."

The reason behind John's look suddenly became crystal clear, and Scorpius' mind flared, instinct pushing the words I wasn't going to ask to the tip of his tongue before something else pulled them back, and he paused.

After a moment of consideration, he nodded. "Thanks," he said quietly, and then gave the password.

The portrait hole swung open, and, with only the briefest flicker in his stomach, Scorpius entered.

She was shrugging off her coat as he walked in, her back to him, and — whatever Scorpius had attributed the tightness in his chest to, however diminutive he'd told himself that the quiver in his stomach had been — just the sight of her there was...

God, it was something.

Her head had raised at the sound of his footsteps as they had entered and then abruptly stopped, and now she had stopped too, her coat still halfway down her back. The sofa was between them, obstructing her from him, and he stared at it as he stood there with Toby's jacket in his hand, suddenly unsure of what to do, suddenly completely unprepared for any of this, and, fuck, what was wrong with him—

She turned towards him, gathering her coat into her arms, and the smile that was already on her face could've sent him to his knees. It was a small, bashful smile, and it shot straight through him and twisted up into his stomach, sending any thoughts he'd been capable of making in that moment flying out of his brain.

A tiny flash of pink curled as her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and then—

"Hi," she said softly.

His throat constricted, and he swallowed. "Hey."

Suddenly, his mind flickered back to life; it changed course and plucked out a memory that he hadn't given a second thought to until now, and he remembered the last time he'd come back from break, what he'd been planning on asking her — just the smallest, most innocuous of questions, but he hadn't been able to then.

His heart felt like it was scuttling up into his throat. He tried to swallow it back down, and then he asked, "Good holiday?", three months too late.

But she smiled.

"Yeah, it was really nice. Good to get a bit of a rest."

"Did you do anything special?"

Rose shook her head. "Just spent time with my family, really. It was my uncle's birthday on April Fools' so we celebrated that, and then, you know, we did a lunch for Easter. You?"

"Same." He nodded, and then quickly shook his head. "Oh, apart from the uh…uncle thing. No birthdays to celebrate."

"Oh, right," she said, giving a little laugh.

Neither of them had made any moves to get closer, and though he was itching to, another part of him felt safer over here.

"Get any studying done?" she ventured, and ugh, bringing up school was like raising the white flag on a conversation. They had to be able to do better than this.

He coughed. "Yeah. I figured it was as good a time as any. Besides, there wasn't that much to do." He paused. "You?"

"Yeah, I was the same. No time like the present, right?"

"That's what they say," he agreed, and he felt the tension of the muscles that surrounded his attempted grin.

She smiled back at him, and then drew her coat across her arm, straightening it a little. Scorpius shifted his weight, his fingers unconsciously rubbing against the jacket that he was still holding in his own hand.

The silence persisted for another moment, and then Rose gave a little, uneasy laugh. "This is weird, right?" she said. "Like, really, uncomfortably weird."

Scorpius exhaled. "Yeah. Very."

Rose laughed again, clearly relieved. "Okay, um…" She inclined her head thoughtfully, and then laid her coat across the back of the sofa. As she stared at it, the thoughtfulness in her eyes seemed to retreat, and then she looked at him, and the determination that had pushed its way forward sent another little tremor through his chest.

"Do you think we should kiss again?"

Scorpius paused, and then said, "That's a very sound idea."

A tiny smile, and Rose nodded, pressing her lips together, and he wasn't sure which of them was supposed to move first, he didn't even know if he'd be able to get his feet to work, but then, as always, Rose Weasley proved that she was far braver than he could ever hope to be when she crossed past the sofa and was stood there in front of him just as fast as the first time she had done it.

He could smell her perfume – as sweet and as flowery as it always was – as it diffused in the air between them, and suddenly it was as if no time had passed at all, as if whether they were about to do this for the first time or for the hundredth, it didn't matter; it would always feel like this.

It became stronger as the back of her hand skimmed across his cheek, and he inhaled before she raised herself up onto her toes and cut his breath short by kissing him.

It was soft and shy and perfect, the moment where time seemed to freeze as the movement stilled, and then she opened her mouth, parting his lips with hers, and he felt Toby's jacket slip from his fingers as he brought his hands up into her hair, suddenly remembering exactly how this would go.

They kissed until Scorpius' head was reeling; he finally pulled back, and the world that she had eclipsed slowly opened up again.

"A very sound idea, Weasley," he said, a little breathlessly. "Excellent."

She laughed, looking at him with eyes that held an endless depth, bright and so blindingly happy that Scorpius didn't dare hope to believe he had anything to do with their light, and then she ducked her head, her cheeks pink.

"Oh, um...you dropped this," she said, stooping down and picking up Toby's jacket, offering it to him sheepishly.

"Thanks," he said, not looking at it.

"I never took you for a denim person," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

His own twitched. "It's Toby's."

"Oh." She paused. "Will he be coming to get it?"

"I hope not."

She bit her lip, and now the tiniest bit of guilt coloured her expression. "Al will be though. He left his Charms textbook in here over the holidays. We had to fight over mine for two weeks, and let me tell you, if I thought he was a bad study partner before…" She shook her head in exasperation and then sighed. "It'll be nice to get things back to normal in that department."

"Did you miss me, Weasley?" Scorpius teased before he'd had time to think about it.

And then he didn't know how to feel or what to say when she said, "I did."

---

"Remind me again why there were so many Americans at this party?" Scorpius asked hours later as he, Toby and Liv stretched out over the sofas in the Slytherin Common Room.

"Liv's grandad is from Boston, so a bunch of her dad's American cousins flew over for the occasion," Toby explained, and then he sighed in contentment, bringing up an arm behind his head. "God, I love Americans. They're just so like...amused by everything. Not to mention forward. Seriously, I had only talked to one of them for about eight seconds before she told me I was cute and that we should get dinner. I almost flatlined."

Scorpius smirked. "I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that you were probably one of the only people at the venue who she was not in some way related to. I too would be thrilled to know that I was at least one step above Creepy Uncle."

Toby's jaw slowly dropped in realisation at Scorpius' words, and he chucked a cushion haphazardly at his friend before he thumped back down on the sofa. "Fuck's sake, Scorp. Let a guy have some dignity, will you." But then he brightened, and he propped himself up onto his elbows, grinning. "Not that it mattered. Liv shut that down very quickly, didn't you, Liv?"

There was a pronounced beat of silence, and when she realised that the attention had shifted on her, Liv blinked, pulling her eyes away from the beaded pattern on the cushion she was staring so intently at. "What? Oh, um…yes." And then she went back to staring at it.

Scorpius looked at Toby. Toby stared at Liv for a few more seconds as she stared at her lap, and though his eyebrows scrunched together, he shook his head a little and turned back to Scorpius.

"Anyways," he continued, injecting the brightness back into his voice. "I swear, the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life, my absolute proudest moment — so John and Grace got a magician to perform at the party — I mean, Muggles, right? — one of those ones that pull things out of a hat and from underneath their sleeves and stuff, and you know, I'd had a few drinks at this point so I kinda decided to fuck with him a little." Toby laughed wildly again at the memory. "You would not believe the face on him when he pulled not one, but five rabbits out of that hat. Think he just about wet himself. I heard him on the phone later, think he was trying to get onto a talent show or something." He paused, and then, "Right, Liv?"

Liv looked up and summoned a thin, unconvincing smile to her face. "It was hilarious," she agreed, but then even that quickly dissolved, and she turned to watch her fingers as they continued to knot up the cushion's threads.

Scorpius blinked as the air that blanketed the room grew heavier, and as his gaze flickered between Toby's probing eyes and Liv's boring holes into her cushion, it seemed to him that she was determined not to look up.

After a moment, he forced out a laugh. "You're setting that man up for lifelong disappointment, you prat."

His attempt at comedy had been telling enough, and when he and Toby exchanged a look, Scorpius couldn't help but notice that although he himself was completely perplexed by the whole thing, Toby's eyes seem to hold more tenseness than anything.

"Nah," Toby muttered quietly a moment later, all traces of humour gone from his voice. "He'll just think it was some crazy fever dream or something. He was chugging gin before he went on anyways."

"So was he any good without your help?" Scorpius asked, to keep the conversation going.

"I dunno, I guess so, everyone seemed to en—"

The armchair suddenly rustled, and two heads turned to look as Liv abruptly got to her feet. She immediately made a show of straightening and plumping up her cushion, not meeting either of their eyes as she said, "I um…haven't seen Horatio yet, and he's probably wondering where I am so um…I'm gonna go and find him but I'll...um, I'll see you guys at dinner."

She was halfway to the portrait hole before Toby had even gotten the "Okay," out, and the moment she disappeared from view, Scorpius turned to his friend, his brow furrowed.

"Is everything okay between you two?" he asked. "That was…odd."

Toby's eyes were still on the dormitory's exit, and he hitched his shoulders helplessly. "You tell me. I don't—" He stopped and sighed, and he turned away from the portrait hole and back to Scorpius. "It's like it came out of nowhere. She was totally normal for most of the party — happy, even — and when I arrived the night before and everything, and we were having such a good time with everyone, and then—" He shrugged unhappily again, his eyes fixing on the cushion she had left. "Then near the end of the night we went up for a dance, and, I dunno, halfway through she just got all quiet and like she was…thinking about something, and then she said that her feet hurt from her shoes and that she didn't wanna dance anymore, and she…well, she was acting a lot like that." He lifted his chin at the very recently vacated armchair.

Scorpius frowned in thought. "Did you say anything weird to her while you guys were dancing?"

"Not that I can think of," Toby said, shaking his head. "I just thanked her for inviting me and stuff, said how happy I was to be there."

"You didn't say anything about her family, did you?"

Toby made a face. "What, and bring down the mood immediately? Like I would've said anything with them all around us anyway." His gaze dropped, and he brought up his knees against his chest, still looking incredibly sad.

Scorpius continued to look at him, and then he leaned over and patted Toby's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Tobe. It probably doesn't even have anything to do with you. She'll come round soon."

"How soon?" Toby asked colourlessly, his voice muffled by his knees. "I was gonna ask her about coming to Hogsmeade with me this weekend." His head snapped up, his eyes wide with realisation. "Not like that! Just like…friends or whatever. Like normal. Since you know, you're gonna be—Scorp?"

Toby's defensiveness hadn't been necessary; Scorpius hadn't heard a thing he'd said since the word "Hogsmeade" had left his lips, and God, how had he managed to forget about Hogsmeade?

"Scorp?" Toby asked again, his dim voice heavy with concern. "You okay?"

"What?" Scorpius blinked, jogging himself from his thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine. Hogsmeade, you were saying?"

Toby crooked an eyebrow at him. "I said that I was gonna ask Liv to come as friends. Since I'm guessing you're gonna be going with…you know…?" He looked at his friend meaningfully.

Scorpius could feel his eyes growing unfocused with thought as his mind continued to swim, but something warm was growing in his chest as the conviction slowly set in, and he nodded.

"Yeah," he said.

---

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

They had been working in silence for over an hour now, and Scorpius' voice cut quickly through the stillness of the room. It was only after he said it that he raised his eyes from his textbook and looked at her, sitting on the floor with her back to him as she worked. He saw her freeze over her parchment, heard her quill as it stopped scratching mid-word, and then she turned to look at him, her face bewildered.

"A what?"

A grin pulled at his lips, and he smirked at her, even as his heart thudded heavily against his ribcage.

"A date, Weasley. I believe you're familiar with the term."

Rose blinked a few times, still looking half-shocked, and Scorpius continued, "It's Hogsmeade weekend, and I thought that if you didn't have plans, you and I could go together."

Maybe it was a good thing that the light in the dormitory was so dim and that the darkness was so black outside, because Scorpius couldn't see how hard Rose was blushing when she swallowed and finally replied, "Sure." She paused, and then added, "That would be nice."

Scorpius didn't really know how to reply to that, though it was mainly because the relief he felt seemed to obscure everything else, so he settled for another smile and then a, "Great. Saturday, then."

"Saturday," Rose confirmed, nodding, a small, shy smile on her lips, and then she ducked back down, but not before the little amount of light in the room had caught on her pink cheeks, and something in Scorpius' chest squeezed at the sight.

He had just regained the sense to tear his eyes away from her when she cleared her throat and asked, "So the textbook's slightly outdated on its detailing of the limitations of partial Transfiguration, right?"

"Huh? Oh, uh…yeah, that's what I was thinking too."

"Okay, good. Just checking."

"Okay."

She peeked back at him, and Scorpius swore he could glimpse a small smile escaping through her pressed lips as their eyes met. In any case, they were both smiling by the time they went back to work.

---

The Gryffindor Common Room was clearing out for the night, and Gen was curled up in her favourite armchair, oblivious to the rest of the world as she indulged herself in smutty fiction, so she didn't notice Al until he spoke.

"Hey, Gen, do you have a minute?"

She jumped and made a little noise of surprise, though the most startling part about it was that her heart still did that flutter thing in her chest at the sound of his voice, though she wondered if maybe it was from the nerves now.

She pressed a hand to her heart and let out a long exhale, finally raising her gaze to meet his. "Jeez, Al, you scared me half to death. But sure."

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish, apologetic smile, and lowered himself down onto the sofa next to her, resting his arm on the side as he turned his entire body towards her. She had always loved that about him; he made her feel like she was the only important thing to him in that moment, and later, she had found out that it was because she was.

And now she felt impossibly wretched all over again.

"Okay, this might sound a little weird and maybe not the best idea, but I was gonna ask if you had any plans for Hogsmeade?"

Gen's eyes widened as panic rapidly rose to her chest, but before her sense of dread could really set in, Al quickly continued, "Because I don't see why we shouldn't be able to go as friends. We've been doing it for five years, and we still like spending time with each other, right?"

It was almost imperceptible, but Gen could hear the tiny, real question hidden in what was meant to be a rhetorical one. His eyes glimmered with hope, echoing his words. Right? he was asking.

She melted. "Of course we do, Al, don't be silly." Filled with relief, she took in a breath before she said carefully, "I would…really like to go to Hogsmeade with you."

At her words, the anxiousness dissipated from Al's face, and he smiled at her, a smile that took her heart out of her chest and reminded her that she had one in the first place, and, encouraged, she continued, bravely, "Have you done McGonagall's essay yet?"

Al immediately groaned and thumped his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes wearily. "Fuck, no. I've been putting it off for hours. I can't believe I had the entire holiday to do it and still waited until the night before. Why couldn't she have made it due for Monday?"

He couldn't see her, so Gen didn't have to hide her stupidly big smile. "It's Hogsmeade weekend," she pointed out. "You're not gonna get it done then, either, plus it would just be hanging over you the entire time." She sighed, reminded of her own predicament. "I'm only halfway through mine and I'm reading this smutty romance novel."

Al cracked one eye open, the corners of his lips tilting up into a wry smile. "Ohhhh. You only save the smut for when you're really procrastinating."

"Exactly." Her gaze passed over the cover in her hands, and she was suddenly no longer in the mood to read. She slapped on a wincing grin, and, before she could think too much about it, suggested, "Hey, wanna suffer together?"

Al blinked in surprise, and when his eyes met hers, something seemed to pass through them, but before she could be sure, whatever it was had gone, and the smile that replaced it was as bright as ever. "Always."

---

Rose looked at herself in the mirror.

She paused, narrowing her eyes critically, and then she cocked her head one way, and then the other.

After a moment, she sighed, stripping off her shirt and standing there with it clenched in her hands, staring resignedly at it in the mirror's reflection.

She knew it was silly of her to have even taken it out in the first place — there had to be some sort of taboo on wearing the same shirt for a first date with someone who'd turned into a long-term relationship and then attempting to wear it again with someone who might—

She stopped before the thought could complete itself, but even so, her heart gave a fevered thump in her chest, and she could feel the colour rise to her cheeks. God, that was another thing: she had blushed more over the past few weeks than she had ever done in her entire life.

She fidgeted with the shirt in her hands for a few more seconds before she let it join its brethren on the pile on the floor, her mind elsewhere.

A date. With Scorpius Malfoy.

After saying it so many times in her head, Rose thought that its effect should've worn off by now, but still the bashful, bewildered smile tugged at her lips and the butterflies flapped back to life in her stomach, and she half-dazedly stepped over the mountain of clothes on her floor and back towards the wardrobe.

She ruffled through her hanging clothes again, though with her mind still fluttering, she was paying very little attention to the actual clothes she was sifting through.

A dress? No, that was silly. It was still too cold for dresses. And besides, he had never seen her in a dress before, at least one that wasn't during a formal occasion where it was mandated, and she didn't want to freak him out. This wasn't a big deal anyway. This was just a casual thing.

Just a casual, no-big-deal Saturday, she thought to herself as she continued to smile and her heart continued to sing.

"Casual," she murmured again, and, after a long moment, grabbed a pair of grey wash jeans from the bottom rack. She couldn't go wrong with jeans (and she happened to know that her butt looked rather fantastic in these particular jeans) so she shimmied down the skirt she was wearing and pulled those on instead before she could think about it too much.

Her shirt was much easier to choose now that she had her bottoms picked out, and she soon settled on a light, relatively-thin turtleneck that she tucked into her jeans. Satisfied, she reached back into her wardrobe to pick out a light grey peacoat that she saved for nice occasions — this was a date after all — and shrugged it on as she walked back towards her mirror, happy with her choice that she looked nice (but casual) enough, but as soon as she saw her reflection she stopped because oh fuck, oh God, it was exactly the kind of coat she had seen Liv wear around Hogsmeade countless times before so she immediately stripped it off and hurried back towards the wardrobe, feeling immediately unsettled.

She didn't know why she felt so weird about her and Liv sharing a similar fashion sense for a date. They were just clothes. Except that those clothes and those dates were both with Scorpius Malfoy, and they had both wanted to wear a stupidly nice light grey peacoat and jeans and now it wasn't Scorpius and Liv but Scorpius and Rose on a Hogsmeade date and here she was blushing to the heavens every time she so much as thought his name and now she was overthinking a coat of all things which she would just be taking off anyway—

STOP, she thought forcefully to herself, commanding her brain to stop its panicking, and deliberately pushed her attention onto the sensation of the clothes she was rifling along her fingers. A particularly nice, soft fabric stopped her, and she pulled the green suede bomber jacket outwards so that she could see it properly, and, after a moment, took it off its hanger and put it on.

She dug her hands deep into its pockets, feeling something hard graze the back of her left hand, and she pulled out a coupon that one of the waitresses had handed her after a family meal at a Greek restaurant a couple of months ago.

As she smoothed it out, a beguiling voice whispered in her brain, a memory that still sent a shiver of thrill up her spine. Have you ever been to Greece, Weasley?

Her fingers clenched, crumpling up the coupon again as she allowed the memory to play on — she welcomed it, even — and although her head was swirling and her stomach felt like it was dropping to the floor, she was filled with a sort of warmth, a familiarity that should have confused her but didn't, and it was then that she came to some strange realisation: it was just Scorpius Malfoy after all.

It was Scorpius Malfoy who she lived with, Scorpius Malfoy who she had spent more time with than anybody else over these past few months, Scorpius Malfoy who she had known since she was eleven years old.

As she placed the coupon back on her nightstand (it had expired, but she kept it still), she realised that she hadn't even thought what he might have planned for their date. Her mind shifted to wondering what restaurant he might take her to as she trailed back to her mirror. One of the romantic ones? Or one that served exotic cuisines? Well, as exotic as Hogsmeade could get. Maybe he liked fancy restaurants. She knew she didn't have a hope of paying where Scorpius was concerned, so price wouldn't be an issue; they could go anywhere.

She took in her reflection, feeling so much more like her with her worn, cosy jacket on, and she felt some of her nerves subside. There.

She turned away, instinctively reaching over to her vanity to grab a hairbrush and hairtie, but she paused when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again, and, after a protracted moment, put them back onto her vanity, a soft smile playing at her lips.

She glanced down at her watch. It was only ten thirty-five — that hadn't taken as long as she'd thought — and now she was stuck with nothing to do for the next fifteen minutes. She lowered herself down into her chair and checked her make-up again. The problem with setting it with magic though, was that it looked just as perfect as it had when she'd finished applying it half an hour ago, and fussing with it would only ruin it. She briefly entertained the thought of some jewellery as her eyes swept over the scant few pieces she owned, but she decided against it, and then that was done too.

She wandered over to her bed, half-heartedly nudging her foot against her ankle boots and smoothing out the duvet before she sat, her eyes on the clock on her nightstand.

After the minute hand had completed its round and began another, her gaze drifted towards the door.

---

Scorpius looked at himself in the mirror.

He was already dressed; he had settled on some dark chinos and a V-neck jumper, something dressy enough that said today was special, but not too dressy that it made today out to be a bigger deal than it was. His hands ran through his hair again before they drifted to his neckline, looking for something to straighten that wasn't there, and he was forced into the realisation that he was fidgeting.

He dropped his hands, sucking air in through his teeth as he stood looking at himself in front of the mirror with nothing to do.

"Stop," he said aloud, suddenly, and the sound of his voice as it broke through the air centred him a little, drew him out of his head. He darted a glance down at his watch — ten forty-three, two minutes since he had last looked — on his way over to his nightstand to retrieve his wallet. It occurred to him as he flipped through its contents that he hadn't even thought where he should take her for lunch. The Three Broomsticks was a safe bet and a popular date spot, but as he thought back to the lunch they'd shared there on Valentine's Day, their lunch that hadn't been a date even though it had looked like a date and had almost felt like one, he realised he didn't want to take her back there for fear of feeling like today wasn't a date either.

He snapped his wallet closed and sat down on his made bed. Rose wasn't the kind of girl to be directed where to go anyway. In fact, she would probably prefer it if he asked her where she would like to go, and then they would just go there; he would go anywhere she wanted.

The truthfulness of that statement sunk in, and it hit him like a freight train. He could feel himself sagging under its weight, this invisible force that felt like it was gently squeezing the life out of him, and had been for days, weeks, he couldn't remember what it had been like before this, before her—

He turned his gaze towards his door, and he wondered if she was ready yet.

He answered his own question a second later. Of course she was, he was sure of it; sure that she was sitting in her room like him, her shoes already on, waiting for him to come and knock on her door. His hand drew across his mouth before it rubbed against the back of his neck, and when it stayed there his other hand began to smack the wallet it was holding against the fabric at his thighs, a steady rhythm that fought against the silence pressing against his ears.

Fuck. It was so unlike him to worry. Worrying was useless and energy-expending and reflected a lack of confidence in oneself, and if Scorpius lacked anything, it wasn't confidence. Exams never made him worry — he saw them as an opportunity to showcase what he knew and to be rewarded for it. Quidditch never made him worry because he knew he was the best one on the pitch, the best player commanding the best team (though he had to admit, with the stunt Al had pulled at the Quidditch final, the thought had briefly stumbled in his brain).

But Rose Weasley made him worry until his hands were numb with cold and his chest was twisted up and clenched so tight that sometimes he felt like he couldn't get enough air. She made him worry that he was overdressed or underdressed or just plain wearing the wrong thing, or that he would take her to a perfectly good date spot that would turn out to be a perfectly terrible date spot, or that he would say the wrong thing or worse, have nothing to say to her at all — or the simple fact that he had thought to worry about any of these stupid things in the first place.

"Ugh," he said, and then he shook his head in frustration. He was overthinking this. When the time came, he would get up from his bed, put his wallet away, grab his coat and his wand and then he would leave this godforsaken room and knock on her door, and when she opened it, he would tell her how nice she looked, because she always did, and she would thank him and they would go, and then he would realise that he had been worrying for no reason.

He checked his watch. Shit. Ten fifty-one. One minute late. He stood, slipping his wallet into his back pocket and grabbing a jacket off the back of his door, stowing his wand in the pocket sewn inside and wrapping it up to keep it safe. He reached the door and tugged down on its handle, and when it creaked open, the living area was suddenly a vast, empty expanse between his room and hers.

He took a breath, and then crossed towards her room, his footsteps plodding softly on the carpet, and as he stared at her door it occurred to him that he still hadn't been on the other side of it. She'd been inside his room, of course, since they'd, well, that night and then the other time—

His mind was suddenly flooded with memories, the kind that made you want to burrow down into your bed in the dark by yourself because that was the only time you should be thinking about things like that, not when you're supposed to be calm and collected moments before you have to knock on the object of those memories' door for a respectable first lunch date, when you should really be thinking about her with her clothes on—

For fuck's sake, if there was a less opportune time to be thinking about shit like this, I'd like to know about it, Scorpius thought irately as he weaved through the sofas. After a pause, he thought that a funeral would be worse. A children's party would be worse than that.

He held back the noise of frustration that was fighting to escape his throat, and now he really could use another minute, but sound travelled in these dorms, and if she was sitting on her bed doing nothing she would've heard his footsteps approaching, so he couldn't linger outside her doorway and do that stupid fidgeting and worrying and remembering thing again.

He took one long, last, second, and then he knocked.

After a moment, he heard rustling sounds from inside and footfalls approaching, and a breath later, the door opened and she was standing in front of him.

For a protracted second they stared at each other, neither knowing exactly what to say, but then Rose bit her lip and smiled that shy little smile at him — her, it was always her first — and for a brief moment he thought his legs were going to give out from under him.

"Hi," she breathed, and it was a wonder that he stayed upright at all.

"Hi," he said back, and then, "You look really nice."

And Rose blushed. She couldn't help it.

---

It was perfect date weather.

The sun was glorious above them, the crisp air moved only by the faintest of breezes, and Rose found herself having to make the conscious effort to stop staring at Scorpius as they walked down Hogsmeade's bustling main street.

She had never seen him wear an outfit like he was wearing now, and somehow it made him look more casual and more dressed up all at once. Her gaze passed over his jumper again, stealing another look at the way it accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and brought attention to the divots in his neck, and as she followed the line of his arm down, her eyes were drawn to where the fabric clung to his form in all manner of terrible, brain-swirling ways, and she felt a familiar shiver of thrill when she realised that she knew exactly what he looked like without all of that fabric on.

Scorpius noticed her staring, and he narrowed his eyes a little, an arching, knowing smile pricking at his lips, and Rose coloured, feeling caught. She cleared her throat, abruptly turning away and shifting her attention to the shop windows they passed by. "So, what's Toby going to do without you?"

In her periphery, Scorpius adjusted his sleeve, and his forearm flashed before she angled her head further away. "Oh, he's going with a bit of a motley crew, some of our other housemates." He paused, and then shook his head. "He'll be fine, he's a people-person."

"Al seems to like him," Rose remarked as her eyes tracked past a display of ornate watches. "He told me you guys all hung out after the match. I mean, before you came back to the dorm and...um..."

She saw him raise his head towards her and she trailed off, a furious blush rising to her face, and although she didn't know it, Scorpius' heart gave another thump at the memory.

He cleared his throat. "I can't think of a person alive who could have a reason not to like Toby." He paused, bringing up a hand to rub at the nape of his neck. "Merlin knows why he chose me of all people to be his friend."

Rose's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Scorpius sighed, as if he hadn't actually banked on her asking for an elaboration, and he drew in the side of his mouth as he deliberated his answer. "With Toby…it's like he feeds off the energy and happiness of other people and bounces it back tenfold; he's like a bloody solar panel. But I've seen the way he is with people who aren't…like him, and it's as if being around negativity exhausts him because he overcompensates by being happy enough for everyone."

It hadn't taken long for Rose to recognise that few things truly affected Scorpius, but from the way his posture had stiffened a little, his lips tight as he stared into the middle distance, this was one of them. He was opening up to her, she suddenly realised, and she wondered if he even knew he was doing it.

"I've never seen Toby look anything less than happy when he's with you," she said after a stretch of silence.

"That's because he's used to it," Scorpius replied immediately.

"Well," Rose conceded lightly, "I guess opposites really do attract, then."

Scorpius shot her a significant look, but she could already see that some of the tension had evaporated from his expression. "Do they."

Rose only shrugged, and Scorpius shook his head at her, smirking wryly in a way that used to set her teeth on edge but now twisted itself deep into her heart. "We're cut from the same cloth, Rose, whether you plan on admitting it or not."

"Okay, to be fair, when I said we had nothing in common it was when I still hated you, so you can't exactly blame me for wanting to distance my—wait." She stopped in her tracks, and then, slowly, she turned her head to face him. "…did you just call me 'Rose'?"

Scorpius took his time meeting her gaze, and shrugged. "Yes."

He looked casual, but Rose could see that he was carefully eyeing her reaction.

She couldn't lie; there was something in her that thrilled at hearing him say her name, and she immediately wanted to hear it again, so she nodded, matching his casual nature. "Okay. I could get used to that." She paused before adding, "Scorpius."

His lips twitched, and they resumed walking, and suddenly the air between them was filled with something that hadn't been there before. Scorpius tilted his head at her, an eyebrow raising just a fraction as that same self-satisfied look returned to his face. "Don't think I don't know how much you're enjoying this, Weasley."

Whether his perceptiveness or his decision to voice it surprised her more, she didn't know, but she hid it well, all the same. "Maybe I'm not quite as used to switching to first-name bases as you." She smirked, glancing at him. "We can't all have an ex-arch nemesis who turns into our best friend."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Albus and I weren't two rivals in a comic book; we were competitors."

"So were we."

Scorpius grinned impishly at her. "You and I were comic book gold, Weasley."

Rose feigned a surprised look. "Back to last names already? Old habits die hard, I suppose."

"They do, but I was underscoring a point."

She considered him for a moment, and then gave him an acquiescing look that said she was going to let him have that one, and they walked in silence for a few shop displays before Scorpius laughed quietly.

"What?" Rose asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him.

He gave her a smug look. "You enjoyed that far too much. Who knew Rose Weasley had a name kink."

Rose's jaw dropped, though her indignation was undercut by the warmth she felt rise to her cheeks. "I do not!"

"Maybe not in this particular context," Scorpius teased, his eyes glinting as they bore right through her, and that same silly part of her thrilled in that too. "In other ones, however, it remains to be seen."

She blushed for real as her mind flew to the sort of context he was referring to, and suddenly his comment dredged up something from its abyss, and she remembered that she had something she needed to say to him. Her expression had unintentionally brooded in her introspection, the indignant smile dropping from her face, and, catching the shift, Scorpius' face took on a shade of alarm.

"Rose, it was only a joke," he said hastily and seriously, and then his eyes widened as something occurred to him. "Maybe, granted, it was in poor taste, you know, considering-"

"No, no, it's not that," she waved him off quickly. "Well, it kinda is that. It's um…" She hesitated, feeling suddenly shy about the whole thing, and Scorpius immediately looked very interested.

"It's...?" he prompted.

She let out a breath, unable to look at him and staring instead at the pavement stones as they crossed each one. "I never um…thanked you for being so, you know, understanding that night. After the match." She chanced a look up then; he was already staring at her.

He raised a curious eyebrow. "Shouldn't I have been?"

Rose bit her lip, playing with the zipper of her open jacket, tugging it up in a slow climb before pulling it back down. "I just mean with me sort of…well, instigating the whole thing and then letting things get really…heavy really quick, and then…changing my mind just before and not wanting to…" She trailed off before she said, in a small voice, "…go there."

When he didn't reply, she looked up, and she was surprised to see that he looked, well, bothered by what she'd said. He sighed wearily, running a hand through his hair. "Please don't thank me for that, Weasley. It's really not enough to get me Man of the Year."

"I know, I know, but…" She looked at him then, really looked at him, and the next part was easy. "I just wanted you to know that it meant something to me. It was nice."

You're nice, her brain thought, even though he wasn't. Not really. Though it didn't seem like such a strange thought, not when they were out here like this, on the edge of this beautiful spring morning, the air crisp and clean and full of promise.

Scorpius was silent for a long time before he nodded slowly, and then he said, quietly, "You're welcome."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to be thanking you," Rose said, turning her head to look at him.

The tiniest of somethings pricked at Scorpius' lips. "Then you're not welcome."

Rose could've kept it going, made another wisecrack at him to lighten the atmosphere, but the expression on his face was too much for her, and so she repeated it. "Thank you."

He paused, and though his eyes still held the tiniest bit of conflict, they were soft. "You're welcome."

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Rose laughed a little uneasily, tucking a strand of hair that had started to get ideas behind her ear. "Try to make an easy transition from that."

"How about lunch?" Scorpius suggested, his gaze ahead of them and on the queue building outside a newer, popular restaurant a little ways down the street. "Anywhere in particular you wanna go?"

Rose had forgotten about lunch, and with that, her previous contemplation of where he had planned to take her, and she immediately felt ridiculous about the whole thing because of course he was just going to ask her where she wanted to go.

She honestly didn't know or mind, but she didn't want them to end up in an endless circle of I don't mind's so she pursed her lips in thought. "Three Broomsticks might be a little crowded, so we should probably steer clear of that."

Scorpius instantly nodded. "Agreed."

"We could go a little further out, see if we stumble upon anything?" Rose hadn't really noticed until now, but they were already pretty deep inside Hogsmeade; she supposed they had been walking for a good while, even though it hadn't felt like it.

"Sure," Scorpius said, and they picked their way past the crowded side of the street. As they passed the restaurant, Rose caught a glimpse of a girl sitting in a booth inside, surreptitiously checking her reflection in her spoon and drawing an itchy-looking shirt away from her neck that she'd worn anyway, and the sight of her there, visible from the entrance, pulled at something in Rose's chest. A question sparked inside her, one that she thought she might know the answer to, but she asked it anyway.

"That day — on Valentine's Day — when you saw me sitting in The Three Broomsticks…why did you come in?"

Scorpius looked at her, and then replied simply, as if it were obvious, "Because I saw you."

---

After the waitress had collected their menus, Rose sat back and shifted her gaze up to the chandelier above them, resplendent as it dripped orange-golden light down through the air. A faint smile ghosted across her lips, lips that looked exceptionally full and inviting in the warmth of the chandelier's glow, and Scorpius swallowed. The effect of it all was—

"Pretty," she said. "I haven't been here for ages. They've really vamped up the place."

Yeah, Scorpius thought dimly to himself as shards of light cast in perfect, soft slats across her cheekbones; he tore his eyes from her face and followed her gaze upwards, and suddenly his reflection was staring at him a hundred times over, pooling in the tear-shaped pendants.

"I don't remember it being so modern," he said after a moment, still looking into those steel eyes and noticing with a start how...soft they looked. Abruptly, he flicked a finger up, the image rolling over all of his faces like a wave, and those eyes disappeared.

"That's because it wasn't." Her voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked at her.

"According to Gen, the guy who used to run this place retired last summer and passed it down to his son. Its new owner must've done some work on it." Her eyes passed over the drinks menu still left on the table, and she ran a finger along the golden symbol that was embossed on its bottom right corner. "He kept his father's initials though, looks like."

Scorpius leaned forward to get a closer look; he could see an R, L and a J all written in a long, elegant hand, overlapping so intimately that at a glance they hadn't looked like letters at all.

"Impressive," he said commendably.

"The signature?" Rose asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Your knowledge, as ever, Weasley," he clarified, a light smirk alighting on his face at her expression, and then the waitress came back with a pot of tea to refill both of their cups.

By the time she'd left, a thoughtful expression had appeared on Rose's face, and she paused for a moment, drumming her fingers lightly against her steaming cup. "Out of curiosity," she said, inclining her head slightly at him, "I saw the initials S.H.M on your suitcase, and I realised that I don't actually know your middle name." She suddenly grinned, a familiar sparkle appearing in her eyes. "Do you think I could use my incredible skills of deduction to figure it out?"

Scorpius exhaled with a dry laugh and shook his head. "Nope."

"Is it Henry?"

"How was that deductive in the least?"

"Harold?"

"Try again."

She thought for a second before venturing, "Herbert?"

"Wro—what the fuck kind of name is Herbert?"

She cocked her head, pursing her lips against a smile. "Yeah, you don't really look like a Herbert."

"Thank you."

"Halcyon?" she suggested.

Scorpius blinked, surprised. "No," he said. "But I can't imagine you'll get any closer than that."

Rose tented her fingers, propping her chin up and looking at him intently. "So what is it?"

Scorpius sighed reluctantly. "It's Hyperion."

Rose blinked. "It's…what?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes, having already expected this reaction from the moment she'd brought the topic up. "My middle name is Hyperion. Go on, have at it. Though why you'd expect anything less from two people who named their child 'Scorpius' I don't know."

Despite this, he noticed that she hadn't laughed or anything; she actually had a strangely focused look in her eyes.

"You're not taking actual offence at it, are you?" he asked when she still hadn't spoken.

"What? Oh, no, it's just that…" She shrugged. "My powers of deduction thing wasn't actually that far off."

"Meaning?"

The whites of her teeth glimpsed at her lip, and when an embarrassed smile threatened at its corners, Scorpius sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.

"Well…okay, when I was younger, I really wanted to know my wizarding history, so one of the things I did was look at my mum's old book of pureblood family trees, you know, pre-war."

At Scorpius' crooked eyebrow, colour rose to her cheeks, but she continued on. "And from looking at um…yours, I noticed that a lot of the names in your family have astronomical origins." She cleared her throat. "Draco, Andromeda, Bellatrix. Scorpius," she added pointedly.

She still said his name as if she were testing it on her tongue, and honestly, Scorpius couldn't remember the last time he'd felt a strange surge of pleasure by the sound of his own name.

She flushed, her face pinching a little. "Sorry, is that super weird? Especially as first date material?"

He looked at her pink cheeks, the earnestness in her eyes, and he could feel it now — that weight pressing down on him again, that invisible force that felt like it was gently squeezing the life out of him, and he never wanted it to stop.

"I think it would've been weirder if I'd've confirmed my middle name was Herbert," he said, and before the thoughts that usually accompanied a kind of revelation like that — thoughts that would tug and pull and pick him apart — could begin creeping up on him, he added, "How were you going to figure out 'Hyperion', though?"

Rose shrugged. "Hyperion is one of Saturn's moons. We learned about it last year in Astronomy, remember?"

Mind-altering, potentially cataclysmic thoughts. "Oh, right. I guess we did."

"Do you want to know what mine is?"

Despite the turbulence (or was it clarity?) whirring in his head, he took his turn to shrug. "It's Christine."

She gaped at him. "How do you know that?"

He lifted an amused eyebrow. "It's on your suitcase, Property of Rose Christine Weasley."

Just then, a new waitress arrived, laden down with a tray of bamboo steamers, and Scorpius realised that he had entirely forgotten that they were here for lunch. She made it too easy to do that.

They thanked her, and she refilled their teacups again.

"After you," Scorpius said automatically, inclining his head at his date, and she laughed gently.

"There's plenty for both of us."

But still he waited until she had picked up her chopsticks, and when she held them expertly in her fingers, he was grateful that he wouldn't look foolish in comparison as he rolled his own into his palm.

She picked up a dumpling and set it into the well of her spoon before blowing lightly onto it; her mouth puckered in his periphery, her cheeks hollowing slightly, and he hastily busied himself with selecting a dumpling from the same steamer.

"I can't remember the last time I had Chinese food," she sighed, inhaling deeply before she popped her food into her mouth. She chewed for a moment and then suddenly paused, recognition dawning in her eyes, and it looked like she was fighting a smile as she swallowed.

"I'm guessing you just did," Scorpius said, half-amused and half-curious.

Her eyes flickered back to his, and she pressed her lips together. "Well, um...actually, it was a couple months back with my…er…boyfriend at the time. Um…Christian?"

Scorpius' dumpling paused on its way to his mouth. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Oh, stop," Rose chastised, though she was smiling. "You can't still dislike him that much."

"I'm sorry, I still don't know who we're talking about."

Rose shot him a semi-exasperated look, and he chewed and swallowed before answering, evenly, "I never cared about him enough to dislike him."

"Sure you didn't," Rose said dryly. "Because starting an argument about him every chance you got is indicative of not caring enough."

"We used to argue about everything, Weasley."

She paused, and then her smile softened into one that was rueful, almost fond, and Scorpius felt his mouth go dry.

She tented her fingers, resting her chin on them again. "How did we have the energy for that? What did we even find to fight about?" She laughed a little in disbelief, shaking her head. "You know, I really can't think of a single thing."

Scorpius couldn't either, but maybe that was because he was having trouble thinking about anything other than the sight of her, opposite him, smiling at him in a way that made him feel like this was all some sort of elaborate out-of-body experience, because what had he ever done in his life to have her smiling at him like she was smiling at him now?

But, as Scorpius watched, that smile slowly faded, a pensive look drawing across her face, and she played with the corner of her otherwise untouched napkin, folding and unfolding it. Scorpius saw her take in a breath before she asked, "Do you think we could've been…", and then she hesitated, stopped, folded and then unfolded as the word friends echoed in Scorpius' head. She looked at him. "That we could've stopped fighting earlier than this? I mean, seven years is a long time."

Scorpius paused, letting her words sink in, and it was a while before he finally said, slowly, "No, I don't...I don't think that that would've been possible before now." He could feel himself frowning, and he made a point to relax himself. "We didn't know each other before, not really, not actually — not enough for us to have stopped."

Rose attempted a weak grin. "I don't know, you can learn a lot about a person by fighting with them."

Scorpius' eyes traced against the circular patterns on the tabletop. "All you learn from that is how to fight with them more." He blinked a few times, the entire table coming sharply back into focus, and he looked back at her. "That's probably why we did it so much."

Rose brought up her hand and rested her cheek against it, tilting her head at him with a sigh. "Maybe we just got tired."

The mood had shifted now, a sort of melancholy that was almost nostalgic in its wistfulness, and Scorpius let the feeling simmer for a moment before he said, "Maybe we were forced to spend so much time in the same space that eventually we couldn't avoid getting to know each other a little bit."

"A little bit" was right, in a way. He didn't know things like her favourite colour, her favourite music, the foods she liked and didn't like, where she had grown up, where she even lived. But he knew that she always left her Potions essays to do last, that when she was stuck on a problem she would reach into the ends of her ponytail and twirl her hair around her finger, realise she was doing it, stop, and then do it again, that sometimes midway through reading her eyes would get lost in the fireplace for minutes on end before she blinked them back into focus. His eyes passed over her face, studying it, memorising it. He knew what her lips tasted like, that when he let his teeth graze against her collarbone, she stopped breathing and trembled against him, that she was almost always the first to pull away, even though when she did, she always looked like she wished she hadn't.

She let out a long sigh, bringing her hand back down and straightening as she contemplated his words, and when she looked at him again, a strange, faraway look had entered her eyes. "If you could choose—" she began softly, and then didn't continue, but Scorpius knew what she was going to say anyway, because the thought had finished itself in his mind too. If you could choose for things to have been different, would you?

It was the kind of question that Scorpius didn't want to think about; partly because shoulda-woulda-coulda's were a rabbit hole that he didn't want to go down, mostly because there was a part of him that thought that if they had been, maybe this whole thing would be easier, maybe this weight wouldn't be pressing down on him so hard.

"Blue," she suddenly said, breaking him from his reverie.

Scorpius blinked. "Blue?"

"You didn't want me to style our dorm room blue because you didn't like blue," Rose said. "That's something we argued about."

Maybe it wouldn't press so hard. Maybe. His lips twitched. "I still don't."

"I still do."

Scorpius stared at her, and her blue eyes stared back. After a pause, he settled back in his chair and said, "When it comes to defence against a Banshee, a Laughing Potion is the best option."

Those eyes went warm, like the sun setting over the sea, and she bit her lip, fighting a smile. "You wouldn't have it on your person."

"That wasn't the question."

The smile broke out then, and for a moment, it seemed to Scorpius that the world had stopped turning.

An eternity might've passed before Rose brought her cold teacup to her lips, their lunch long forgotten. His eyes were pulled to the movement of her lips as they pressed against the rim of the cup as she drank, and though his fingers curled against the base of his own, he made no move to take it.

Their conversation had brought back the memory of their fight in the boys' bathroom that first day back after the Christmas holidays, how it had come to a head days later outside of the Hospital Wing, and he tried to remember if that was the last proper fight they'd had.

"See, we still argue all the time," Rose said wryly.

"We also don't argue all the time." He was certain now that it was, because after that had been the Bludger, and then their lunch at Hogsmeade, and then...everything else—

Rose pondered that, her eyes drawing into themselves in thought. "It's funny, I never noticed," she said after a while. "You'd think you would, right? When something that's been so characteristic of a relationship goes away but neither of you really notice."

A line from a book suddenly struck Scorpius, and he recited it out loud, thoughtfully, and only half-aware that he was doing it. "I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

It was only after he'd said it that he remembered the context in which it was spoken, and dull panic immediately gripped his chest, his throat going tight as it tried to swallow the words back down, and he prayed that she wouldn't know. Most of him did.

The astonishment was clear in her eyes for the short second that it was present, and Scorpius waited, his heart thudding in his chest.

Her fingers tapped against the base of her cup, the glass making a quiet plinking noise. One for every heartbeat.

"Austen," she finally acknowledged. "Why am I not surprised?"

If she knew, she wasn't going to comment on it, and Scorpius let himself feel relieved.

A gentle smirk curled across his lips. "Except you are. Not that I blame you. I haven't actually read it, but my mum reads it every Christmas, often aloud. It's her favourite book." And then, instinctively, "She thinks Darcy's the most romantic character in literature."

I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.

Rose raised a curious eyebrow, her eyes suddenly taking on a different light. "In literature, maybe," she said nonchalantly. "I'm not convinced that Darcy's appeal stretches beyond the reaches of fiction. There's not that much that's so attractive about him, if you were to take him outside the context of the novel, or if you weren't reading it from the perspective of a heroine who was as well-matched to him as Elizabeth."

Scorpius blinked in surprise, and a sudden spark of defensiveness seeded up inside of him. "What exactly is so unattractive about him?" he asked, voice forcedly neutral.

Rose shrugged. "I mean, as a basic start, he's exceedingly proud and arrogant, unreasonably dismissive of almost everybody he meets-"

"He's limited by his own social experiences," Scorpius argued before he could think about why he was even arguing this. "Of which he has very little outside of his own circles. He feels uncomfortable talking to strangers so he overcompensates by appearing cold or aloof — social awkwardness is a very legitimate hindrance and why have you got such a smile on your face, Weasley?"

"No reason," she said instantly, clearly still fighting to contain it, and then she bit her lip, her smile threatening to become a fully-fledged grin. "Fine, I was just playing devil's advocate. I was…I wanted to see what you made of him."

Scorpius squinted at her, a little suspiciously. "So you like him?" he asked after a moment.

Rose laughed fondly. "A man who accepts a woman's rejection of him and still re-evaluates his behaviour while expecting nothing from her? Sounds too good to be true."

"It probably is."

Rose opened her mouth, looking like she was about to argue, but then she closed it again, clearly deciding that it would be a moot point. They considered each other for a little longer, until—

"Were you…testing me, Weasley?"

She raised her eyebrows, unfazed. "Of course not, I was arguing with you." She paused and took a sip of her tea. "And you're supposed to call me 'Rose', remember?"

He watched as she put her cup back down. "Force of habit…Rose," he replied, letting the slightest bit of remorse enter his tone, and though the jab he'd made at her earlier was only that, he wondered if she shared even the smallest iota of the thrill that he felt when her lips formed his name as when his said hers.

Something inside of him whispered Yes as her eyes caught on his; the corners of her lips tugged as she looked at him, and he waited for the world to stop.

---

"Where to next?" Liv asked Horatio as she slid her arms back into her jacket, peering around the bustling streets for inspiration.

Horatio shrugged, unconcerned. "I'm easy." But then his brow furrowed a little, and he pointed ahead of them. "Though we should probably avoid that area; there's a bunch of people over there, looks crowded."

Liv followed to where his finger was pointing, and as soon as her gaze landed on the group of people he was referring to, her chest went tight. The bundle of seventh years was composed of mainly Slytherins, with some Ravenclaws thrown in, and a familiar boy on the edge of the group, chatting to another.

Toby seemed to sense eyes on him and he lifted his head, looking straight at her. He stilled as their eyes met, and then he raised a cautious hand in greeting, his lips turning up into a timid smile.

"It's Toby," Liv found herself saying to Horatio, and as she watched, Toby turned back to his group and clapped a hand on the shoulder of the boy he had been talking to, murmuring something before extracting himself, and then he was walking towards her, hands in his pockets.

"Hey," he said, inclining his head politely as he reached them. "What're you guys up to?"

"Not much," Liv replied, shooting down the slight tremor she felt when the sound of his voice plucked at something inside her chest. "I was thinking Honeydukes, maybe, get something sweet for a flavour change." Her voice raised at the end, questioning, looking up at Horatio for confirmation, and he grinned.

"Sure, like I said, I'm easy. Oh, cool, now that Toby's here, let me just run to the bathroom, gimme a minute—"

Liv's eyes widened, her chest sparking in panic. "Wait, uh-" she began to protest, but he'd already disappeared back inside the packed restaurant, leaving the two of them alone at its entrance.

She could feel Toby's eyes on her, now heavy with uncomprehending hurt as they searched her face. She bit her lip, wrapping her arms around herself, though there was barely a chill in the air today. She should've made up an excuse; she shouldn't've stayed here with him.

After a long, uncomfortable stretch where nothing was said, Toby finally broke the silence. "Hey, Liv, did I, um…did I do something wrong?"

She glanced at him for a second, her eyes passing over his sad, confused expression before they settled on the display in the shop window opposite them. "No, of course not, Toby, I-"

"Because you won't even look at me, I don't-"

He broke off mid-sentence, a sudden constricted noise escaping his throat, and Liv instinctively turned to look at him, her brow furrowing. His eyes were wide and panicked, and before she had the chance to ask what he had seen, he was pushing them both into the trinket shop that she had been looking into.

"What—what are you-" Liv sputtered, trying to get a look behind them as Toby pulled them over to a random display of necklaces. "Toby," she argued again, indignation displacing her discomfort as she fought out of his grasp.

"Remember that girl I met last year when I was on holiday in France?" Toby hissed, ducking his head so that it brushed against hers.

She suppressed a shiver at the contact. "The one who kept sending you those crazy Owls?"

Toby nodded. "She's outside. And I think she's coming in."

He darted a glance behind them just as the door tinkled open. He cursed, and then fixed Liv with a desperate, pleading look. "I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."

Her jaw dropped, and she shook her head firmly. "There is no way that I'm-"

"Please," he begged, gripping her hands in his. "Do this for me."

She made another incredulous face at him, but it wasn't a No, so he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against his side.

"It's just for a minute-"

"Toby?" came a girl's voice from behind them.

Toby audibly swallowed in response, his eyes sliding back over to Liv, and he nodded at her infinitesimally, the silent plea clear before he manoeuvred his right hand into her left. They turned around together, plastering twin, falsely bright smiles at the girl gazing curiously at them.

"Camille," Toby greeted her, his voice strained and his hand so warm against Liv's that she could feel her own begin to grow clammy. "What brings you here?"

She was very pretty, Liv immediately noticed despite her discomfort; Toby hadn't done her justice. Just by looking at her, it was obvious that she could've had most guys she wanted, easily, but for some reason she had clung tightly to Toby and refused to let go. Seeking comfort, Toby squeezed her hand tighter, his thumb unconsciously running along the length of hers as he fidgeted, and when she shifted her gaze back to look at him, his cheeks reddened, and suddenly the reason wasn't so strange after all.

"Our term dates are different from yours," Camille replied, drawing Liv from her thoughts. She had no trace of a French accent, and Liv didn't miss the line that appeared in her brow after her eyes had dropped down to their entwined hands. Instinctively, she squeezed back. "Beauxbatons does not begin for another week. We are here for a holiday."

"We?" Toby asked, slightly fearfully.

Camille smiled, and pointed outside. "My family are just finishing up in Honeydukes. The candy isn't as good in France. They will be happy to see you." After a pause, her eyes moved to Liv, and she offered her hand, her smile polite. "I'm sorry, my name is Camille."

"Um...Liv," Liv replied, shaking it with the hand that wasn't clasped in Toby's. "Nice to meet you."

Camille gestured between the two of them. "Are you his, uh…?"

Liv opened her mouth to confirm it, but her throat closed up over the words, fake girlfriend or not. She turned to Toby for support, but his eyes were still slightly glazed; he clearly hadn't been listening to their conversation. She tugged at his arm, muttering his name in an undertone.

He blinked, his eyes suddenly coming back into focus and widening. "Sorry! Um…what was the, um-"

"Girlfriend," Liv finally managed, and with that, something inside of her drooped into a sigh. She summoned another smile to her face as she raised their entwined hands slightly for emphasis.

Toby nodded earnestly in agreement, and Camille's expression seemed to take on the slightest shade of resignation. She arched a delicate eyebrow. "That's nice. For how long have you been together?"

"Two years," Toby blurted out in a panic. Liv bit back a groan when she saw Camille's eyes narrowing as she immediately did the mental math.

She subtly sucked in a breath, steeling herself. "She means how long we've been together, not how long we've known each other, silly," she purred, pulling out of his grasp and wrapping herself around his arm. Toby stared at her in shock. "We've only been dating seven months," she assured the other girl, rolling her eyes for good measure.

"I thought perhaps you were not receiving my Owls, but I can see now that that is not the case," Camille continued, her eyes on Liv. "Despite the time we spent together," she added ruefully, and Toby shifted uncomfortably.

Liv shot down the bile rising in her throat, and pushed closer. "It was my fault," she said smoothly. "We had only just started seeing each other properly, and I didn't think it was a good idea for Toby to be exchanging messages with another girl when we were finally getting serious."

When she met his eyes, she could see the silent gratitude swelling behind them, and the hand that she hadn't even realised was on her back began to rub in small, comforting circles. She felt her lips turn up into a smile before her gaze pulled away. This was nice, this was so disarmingly nice, just like it had been at the party—

"I understand." Camille's expression was thoughtful as she continued to appraise them. "I don't think Toby ever looked at me like that. Clearly he made the right decision."

Unable to help herself, Liv looked at him again, and when their eyes found each other, she saw the corner of his lips twitch — it was a tiny, hopeful smile, and it burrowed straight into her heart. It was the same feeling that had slowly — almost imperceptibly — crept over her as the anniversary party had surged on, after the dances and speeches and jokes and champagne, after all the times that he had made her feel beautiful and important and wanted — not because he did anything out of the ordinary but because that was the kind of person that Toby was. It was the same feeling, but now it shocked through her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her almost immobilised in its wake—

Her eyes flicked down to his lips—

"I should go. I didn't tell my family I was coming in here."

Liv blinked, and the moment ended. She turned back to face Camille, her smile coming easy with the practice. "Of course, they must be wondering where you are."

"Yeah." Toby's voice quivered, only slightly. "It was really nice to see you again, Camille. Hopefully we'll um…run into each other again."

The charmed smile Camille gave him said that she saw right through him, and she inclined her head modestly. "Hopefully. I wish you all the best, Toby." She turned her eyes on Liv. "It was nice to meet you too." She paused, deliberating carefully on something before she opened her mouth again. "I can see that you make him very happy. He deserves that." She raised a hand in farewell, and after a final smile at them both, she exited the shop, the bell tinkling again as the door pulled shut behind her.

They didn't move for a few more seconds, their gazes still on the cheerfully decorated door, as bright and as colourful as the wares in the shop. The sun was shining through the window, lighting up the glass merchandise around them something beautiful.

"She's not even French," Liv finally said.

Toby let out a long, deep breath, his shoulders giving way, and when he replied, Liv could hear the smile in his voice. "Her mum is French."

"Oh."

He chuckled, then, after a pause, said, "Thanks for doing that. You were um…very convincing."

"You're welcome," she replied softly.

Her skin tingled, and she looked down to see that Toby had begun to unconsciously trace against her thumb with his again, but there was no one to fool anymore, no show to put on, so why were they still holding hands? Suddenly her stomach tightened, and his hand was burning in hers, his body suffocatingly close, and she couldn't do this anymore, this was torture—

She jerked her hand away, curling it up protectively against her chest, and Toby, startled, immediately looked at her in confusion, the hurt quickly replacing the puzzlement in his eyes. His brow furrowed, all traces of happiness wiped away. "Liv, seriously, you're freaking me out. Ever since we went to your-"

"There you guys are!"

Their heads snapped as one at the sound of Horatio's voice as he strode over to them, the door rebounding against the wall from the force of his entry. "I had no idea where to look for you, luckily I caught a glimpse of Toby in the window, what are you guys even looking at—"

Relief had coursed through Liv's bones at the sight of him, though somewhere beneath it lay a dullness that felt a little like disappointment. As soon as he reached them, she slipped her hand into his, her fingers finding his familiar calluses, and her wretched heart clenched as she dutifully ignored the weight of Toby's watching eyes and tried not to think about how his hand had felt in hers.

---

"So, Al said he was going to ask Chang to go to Hogsmeade with him. Did he?"

"Yep," Rose nodded, and then her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip as she drew her hand around her opposite elbow. "I hope things aren't too weird between them today."

They turned back onto Hogsmeade's main street, merging with the people who were contentedly milling around in the afternoon sun.

"Maybe weird is good," Scorpius countered. "They can figure out what they mean to each other now that they're not, you know...doing it."

Rose's jaw fell open. "They were never doing it!"

"Oh, please," Scorpius immediately scoffed, half-laughing. "There's no way that a guy like Al holds out for that lo—" He broke off at the sight of Rose's expression and blinked at her. "Seriously? Never?"

When her face didn't change, Scorpius continued to tilt his head at her until he eventually nodded in some kind of impressed silence, and then something seemed to occur to her, and she frowned. "What do you mean, "A guy like Al"? What's the difference between a guy like Al and say, a guy like you in that scenario?"

Scorpius pursed his lips as he considered, weighing his options and trying to keep things as vague as possible, and ended up saying, somewhat lamely, "Albus is a…physical kind of guy. I mean—okay, when was the last time you saw him derive meaning or pleasure from something like reading a book, or, I don't know, having a debate with someone?"

Rose's brow stayed scrunched as she pondered his question, and then she raised a curious eyebrow. "So what you're saying, is that if a guy like you would want to…gain pleasure or meaning, you'd open up a book instead of doing…that?"

For the second time that day, Scorpius' mind instantly snapped to Liv, Liv and the relationship he'd had with her, and exactly the sort of pleasure that he had gained from it, and just like when Rose had done that whole…thanking him thing for what, allowing them to have stopped things that night, agitation spiked through his spine.

It had been a long time since then — it certainly felt like a lifetime ago — but the memories readily rippled through his brain even now, and Scorpius understood that when it came to Liv, at the most basic of explanations, he had used her. She had used him too, but that didn't make it right, and all that did was remind him how much of a shitty person he was capable of being, and he fucking hated it.

There was a part of him that hated the fact that Rose didn't know just how little he had truly cared about Liv, at least as a girlfriend, and another, depraved part that wanted to ensure that it stayed that way, because not even in his wildest thinkings would he ever believe for a second that Rose Weasley would deign to have a relationship like that. And here they were on this date, this date that felt like it might be leading to a kind of something where relationships were concerned—

It had been easy to forget about it as he had stared at her and she had smiled at him and blushed in a way that had made his stomach twist up inside, but the thought had crept back in now, and it would keep doing that, over and over again, because other things would remind him of it — something always would.

He suddenly remembered that she had asked him a question and was still waiting for an answer. She was still smiling at him, her lips lifted in amusement; no doubt she thought he was trying to find a way to say that, yes, fucking someone was pleasurable to him, and he wished that that were the case.

"Depends on my mood," he finally answered, succinctly.

The street opened up into a little square, and they moved nearer to its edge, avoiding the large crowd gathering in the middle, and as they did so, they brushed past a stroller, and its inhabitant immediately began to make gurgling noises, laughing and making grabby motions towards Scorpius.

Scorpius halted, instinctively turning to face the source of the noise, and his brow furrowed with distaste. The baby had paused, its head cocked and its eyes fixed on him, and Scorpius moved a little to the left, warily, and its face morphed into another squeal; he moved to the right, and it screamed with joy, clapping its grubby hands together.

Scorpius looked at the traces of toffee (was it toffee? It could be any sticky substance that this baby had gotten its fingers on, who knew, babies were just naturally sticky) coagulating all over its fingers, and he couldn't help but grimace.

From next to him, Rose grinned, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Not a kids person, huh?"

Scorpius' grimace turned itself on her, and she laughed before waggling her fingers playfully at the child, eliciting another round of high-pitched giggling.

Suddenly, they both heard a little gasp, and a young woman came tearing towards them, a smudge of toffee on her cheek and dark rings under her eyes, her purse zipped mid-way. "I'm so sorry," she apologised breathlessly as soon as she reached them, "I just left him for a minute to pay — he didn't grab at you, did he?" she asked anxiously.

"Well, yes," Scorpius said bluntly, while Rose immediately waved her off with an, "Oh no, of course not."

She smiled at Rose's well-meaning comment before looking apologetically at Scorpius. "Sorry, Flynn's uh…going through a bit of a unicorn phase right now, and your um…I think your hair is getting him a bit excited." She reached into the stroller and pulled out a toy unicorn for emphasis, shrugging at Scorpius weakly as it swayed back and forth by its platinum tail. "I'm so sorry to be interrupting your date."

Her words sent a buzz through him, and he felt Rose shift slightly against his arm before she smiled at the woman again.

"Not an interruption at all." She gestured to the boy. "How old is he — Flynn, right?"

His mother looked at him fondly, and stroked a hand down his cheek. "He'll be one next month." She sighed. "I was hoping he'd say his first word by then, but…"

Rose laughed. "He still might."

The woman smiled at her thankfully, and her gaze flicked to Scorpius for a moment, smiling at him too. "Flynn's my first, so I uh…haven't really got a frame of reference or anything, but…"

As Rose and the woman continued to talk and Scorpius stood there in silence, switching between staring at the mum and staring at the baby when he felt like he had been staring at the mum for too long, he was reminded instantly of the conversation that he and Rose had had during lunch, and he felt his gaze slip into the middle distance as it replayed in his head.

He feels uncomfortable talking to strangers so he overcompensates by appearing cold or aloof, he'd said. Social awkwardness is a very legitimate hindrance.

But Darcy was cold and aloof because he was socially awkward; Scorpius didn't suffer from social awkwardness because he had no desire to be social. That was probably why he was finding it so difficult to figure out what to say to this woman — because he legitimately had zero interest in engaging her in conversation. His gaze sharpened as he watched Rose do it so effortlessly, so willingly, and he thought that racking his brains over talking to a stranger had only occurred to him because Rose was here. And then he just felt weird about the fact that he could name on slightly more than one hand the amount of people that he enjoyed socialising with.

He focused back into the conversation as the woman was saying, "So sorry again, I don't want to keep you two any longer with a mother's ramblings." She looked at them both, her eyes creasing with her smile, and Scorpius felt his lips turn up into some semblance of a smile in reply.

His eyes dropped to the baby, who was still gazing at him, and for a moment, he considered twitching his lips at him too, but then the woman gave them a wave and began to push the stroller away.

The baby instantly began to wail again, pointing at Scorpius and shoving one of his toffee-covered hands fully into his mouth and sucking on it as tears tracked down his cheeks, and, in his outburst, he catapulted his unicorn toy off the side of his stroller and onto the cobblestone pavement below.

His mother looked half-mortified — too exhausted to commit to the expression fully — and Scorpius, who was closer to it than Rose, automatically reached for the toy and held it back out for the baby to take, but the baby, still crying, refused it and made more grabby motions towards him instead.

From next to him, Scorpius saw Rose look consolingly at the woman before she furtively glanced around them and pulled her wand out of her back pocket, murmuring a spell too quietly for Scorpius to hear. Suddenly, a stallion burst forth from her wand, silver and perfect, cantering around in the air as silver wisps curled to life around them.

Flynn stopped crying instantly, his huge, glassy eyes bulging, and he reached out and grasped at it, his giggles reaching near-supersonic levels as his fingers passed through the empty air. Some people around them stopped and turned to watch the stallion do its rounds until, after a final arc, it dissipated into the blue sky.

The baby frowned in confusion, blinking as it looked for the silver horse that was no longer there, the crease in his brow already a telling sign of the wailing that was bound to follow, and Scorpius, in a stroke of inspiration, took out his own wand and muttered a spell under his breath, holding his hand out to catch the spool of glowing silk as it ribboned out from its tip.

Hesitatingly, he held it out to the baby, and with one last squeal, the baby grabbed it, commemorating his new ownership of it with a toffee stain right down the middle, and then settled back into his pram contentedly. Scorpius suddenly remembered that Flynn's toy was still under his arm, and he hurriedly placed it back into the stroller.

Flynn's mother exhaled gratefully, mouthing a final "Thank you," at them both before she wrapped her hands around the pram's handles and strolled off, the sound of Flynn's laugh fading into the crowd.

They stood there in silence until the pram had disappeared, and then Scorpius inclined his head at Rose. "Your Patronus is a horse."

She nodded. "A stallion. Same as my aunt."

He half-expected her to ask what his was, but she paused, and then didn't. He supposed it would've been presumptuous of her to ask, but then he wondered why that would be the case. It was a tricky bit of magic, sure, but nothing out of his capabilities — and he had mastered more difficult spells that she was aware of. So then he thought that it must be that other thing, that other thing that was so specific to the Patronus Charm — that whole happiness thing.

It made him feel strange to think that Rose wasn't sure if he had ever been truly happy; enough to pull that sort of memory out for a charm like that. And here Rose was, the kind of person who exuded kindness and heart, who had just struck up a conversation with a complete stranger because she had actually wanted to.

"So where should we go now?" she asked, her voice breaking into his thoughts.

He blinked. "Oh, um…what do you usually like to do?"

As he looked at her, his attention was caught by a tiny white petal that had, at some point, fallen into her hair. He instinctively reached out for it, and she froze, staring at him as his hand brushed by the shell of her ear. His fingers had closed around the piece of flower when he paused instead of drawing back, something inside of him stilling as her eyes remained fixed on his. Scorpius wasn't usually given to public displays of affection, but still, he could feel himself moving closer, closer as his eyes darted down to her lips, and though the shadows didn't play along them now, they still looked just as inviting as they had in the restaurant—

Rose's eyes had begun to drift closed, but now they suddenly widened, losing the softness they had taken on as her gaze caught on something, and Scorpius instantly frowned and turned to see what she was looking at.

A group of sixth year girls was staring at them, dumbstruck, their jaws agape; one girl had frozen with her ice-cream clenched in her hand, and as they watched, it slid off its cone and splatted onto the floor. No one responded to it, not one of the girls had the sense to rip their eyes away, and Scorpius, having grown bored of their stares, turned to Rose and gripped her lightly by the arm.

She turned to him in surprise, her eyes still visibly flustered, and Scorpius mentally cursed those stupid girls one more time before he inclined his head at her. "Fancy some ice-cream?"

She blinked, relaxing, and then she smiled at him. "Sounds perfect."

As they walked away, he lessened the grip on her arm, but he didn't want to let go, so after a pause, he let his hand slide down and around hers, hoping she couldn't feel the way his pulse had quickened the moment his bare skin had touched hers.

---

"I'm gonna take a guess and say that you're a vanilla person?"

Rose looked up from where she had been staring at their entwined fingers. "Huh?"

Scorpius nodded at the labels visible at the top of the ice-cream cart. "Vanilla flavour."

"Oh," she laughed sheepishly. "Um…yeah, I suppose you could say that. More than chocolate, anyway."

Scorpius clicked his tongue. "Nothing, Rose, is better than chocolate."

That delicious little bolt of pleasure still shot through her as her name rolled out in his smoothly aristocratic voice, though she tried her hardest not to let it show. Instead, she made a face at him, ticking off her fingers one by one as she listed, "Strawberry, caramel, cookies and cream-"

"None of those are better than chocolate."

She pursed her lips. "Let me guess, you're one of those highbrow chocolate eaters who only eats dark chocolate, and not the normal dark chocolate, but the ninety-nine percent kind that tastes like roasted charcoal and makes you feel like you're being punished-"

"What is a "highbrow chocolate eater"-"

"By the way, I'm paying."

Scorpius halted, and Rose could almost see the click of his brain as it instantly rewired. A line appeared on his brow, and he opened his mouth—

"Nope, you paid for lunch, I can at least get this."

The couple in front of them suddenly left with their order, and Rose jumped at the chance and confirmed, "So chocolate, then?" before turning back to the man with the scooper in his hand. "One scoop of chocolate, and a separate scoop of strawberry, please."

"Sure. Cup or cone?"

Rose blinked and said, "Um, cup, please." Cups were safer. She looked at Scorpius. "That okay?"

He nodded immediately.

"Two cups, then. Alright, folks, just to let you know that we're out of the strawberry at the minute," the man said. "You mind waiting a bit?"

"No problem," they replied in unison, and stepped out of the queue.

"See?" Rose said smugly. "The strawberry's too popular."

"Or no one's ordered it yet so they're having to make it fresh," Scorpius smirked back.

"Ha-" Rose began dryly, but the woman in front of them abruptly moved away, and she suddenly recognised a shock of dark blue hair and gasped as the back of its owner came fully into view from within the crowd. "Teddy?!"

Her cousin turned at the sound of her voice, and a smile broke out across his face as he raised an arm. "Rose!"

She instantly dashed towards him — even though she'd seen him two weekends ago at Easter Sunday — and squeezed him in a hug. As she pulled back, her face became delightedly curious. "What are you doing here?"

Teddy shrugged casually, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, McGonagall asked if I would come and help her with some sixth year Human Transfiguration stuff. You know, make it a little more interesting, and hey, what's a quick Apparation and a carriage ride?" His brow furrowed. "Didn't Al tell you?"

Rose shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, well, you know Al: in one ear and out the other."

"Are you here alone?" Rose asked.

"Funny, I was just about to ask you that," Teddy said pointedly, his eyes shifting past her, and with a start, Rose suddenly remembered.

Flushing, she met her cousin's eyes again for a moment before she turned around to see Scorpius still standing where she had left him, his face visibly taken aback, and, after quickly summoning a smile to her lips, she beckoned him forward.

As he neared, she instinctively reached out a hand, wanting to take his again. "Teddy, I'd like to introduce you to-"

"Rose!"

A flash of silvery-blonde shot through her vision before something plowed into her and wrapped her in a tight, earnest hug.

"—Scorpius Malfoy," Rose finished weakly, and Victoire Weasley instantly pulled back to look at her, her inhumanely beautiful face twisting in shock. Even so, it only took her a second to recover her expression, the 'O' shape of her mouth morphing into a dazzling smile, and she turned its full effect on Scorpius.

"Victoire Weasley. Rose's cousin," she said charmingly, slipping her shopping bag onto her other arm and offering out an elegant hand.

Scorpius blinked, and it took a moment before he looked down and registered the hand that was extending out towards him. He cleared his throat and then shook it, a polite, restrained smile following quickly enough.

It was amusing, Rose had to admit, that even Scorpius Malfoy wasn't immune to her cousin's wiles, though a sudden, unexpected spark of possessiveness moved through her, catching her momentarily off guard.

"Soon to be Lupin," Teddy added wryly from beside her, and Victoire beamed. He turned to Scorpius, and extended a hand. "Teddy," he said, not really needing to now. "Not technically Rose's cousin, but…"

"You will be," Rose reminded him with a smile as Scorpius shook his hand. "They're getting married in June," she elaborated.

"Congratulations," Scorpius said graciously, and then the man at the ice-cream stand called over that their order was ready, and he immediately excused himself.

Rose watched him leave, her eyes following him as he weaved back towards the front of the queue.

"Rose."

She sighed, having expected as much. "Teddy," she responded in kind, turning back to face him.

"Rose." His eyes were hard.

Victoire waved a dismissive hand, sparing her fiancé only the slightest of glances. "Ignore him, Rose," she advised sagely. "He spends far too much time with your uncles and father. You Englishmen are so narrow-minded. Besides—" She edged closer and lowered her voice as she peeked at Scorpius' back. "He is delectable."

Rose squinted suspiciously at her, but the side of her mouth quirked up into a grin as Teddy grunted in disapproval.

"Looks aren't important," he said gruffly.

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Easy for you to say."

Scorpius came back and handed her her ice-cream cup, holding his own in his other hand, and Rose smiled at him. His lips raised back, though his eyes still held that uneasiness.

"Were you two going to walk around Hogsmeade?" he asked politely, turning his gaze back towards the others.

"We were just leaving, actually," Teddy said, his eyes flicking down to consult the watch on his wrist. "We'd planned to stop by for lunch, but this one wanted to get some last minute shopping done and McGonagall will be expecting me in an hour, so we'd better get something to go."

Rose and Scorpius both nodded in understanding, after which followed an uncomfortable silence where the two couples looked awkwardly at one another until Victoire elbowed her fiancé in the side.

Teddy coughed, automatically holding out a hand again. "It was nice meeting you, Scorpius."

"You too," Scorpius replied without missing a beat, and Rose stepped forward to hug Victoire goodbye.

"Don't let him tell," Rose beseeched her quietly. "Promise?"

Victoire winked at her, rearranging her shopping on her arm and giving one to Teddy to hold. "We'll see you soon, Rose. Great meeting you, Scorpius."

After a final wave, they turned away, and Rose and Scorpius watched as the two of them were swallowed into the crowd, Teddy's blue hair eventually disappearing from view. They stood in silence for a few more moments, still holding their untouched ice-creams, before—

"You can say it," Rose said, wincing. "That was weird."

Scorpius looked at her and shrugged, a little too casually. "Nothing too strange." He paused. "They seem nice."

"They are."

His lips puckered a little. "Your cousin, is she…uh…"

"Part Veela, yes."

"And her fiancé…" He gestured to his own, non-blue, hair. "Helping out with Human Transfiguration. He's a Metamorphmagus, isn't he? From his mother."

"Hides it well, doesn't he," Rose said wryly.

Scorpius nodded thoughtfully. "That's interesting."

"The fact that he's a Metamorphmagus?"

"The fact that he's my cousin."

Rose's jaw fell open, her eyes going wide with realisation. "Teddy's grandmother—"

"—Is my great aunt," Scorpius finished. He drew in the side of his mouth, his gaze dropping past his ice-cream and then, as Rose watched, past the cobblestone pavement. "Not that I know her at all. I've only met her a few times." He blinked, and then his eyes raised a little, into the crowd. "It turns out that it's much easier to burn bridges than it is to mend them."

Rose felt something pull deep in the pit of her stomach as she looked at him, and she realised that she'd seen that sort of sadness before.

"I don't know," she said lightly. "You'd be surprised at how stubborn families can be when it comes to mending bridges." She smiled. "Come on, this ice-cream isn't going to eat itself."

She waited until Scorpius had spooned himself a mouthful before she took one for herself.

"So," Scorpius said, after he'd swallowed, "being a Metamorphmagus must've made sixth year Transfiguration a whole lot easier, huh?"

Rose considered as she rested her spoon back into her cup. "You know, it's funny, Teddy was never really that given to Transfiguration." She caught Scorpius' eye. "He was always more into Potions." At Scorpius' surprised look, she grinned and shrugged. "Oh, he was never as good as you are, obviously. Never made any alterations to any of his potions, or you know, brewed at a professor's level as a way to pass the time."

"You make it sound far more of a common occurrence than it was."

"Can I ask you something?"

Scorpius squinted at her. "When have you ever asked me permission to do anything?"

Rose shrugged, and partook of her dessert before she said, "Remember when we had that argument about the Alihotsy Draught last year? Before Xavier partnered us up for that assignment?"

"I remember."

"And you said that adding an extra half-root of Asphodel would make for the more potent potion…because of Severus Snape's findings?"

Scorpius' spoon paused, and he fixed her with a knowing look. "I never worked from Snape's book," he said. "That lone page — the one pertaining to the Alihotsy Draught — had been ripped out of it. I found it in the medicine cabinet in the Hospital Wing at the beginning of sixth year." He tapped the side of his head, that familiar smirk glancing off his lips. "Everything else came from up here." But then he paused, his eyes clouding over a little in thought. "I would've liked to have seen that book though. Just to get inside his head. Whatever you can say about him, the guy really knew his potions." There was a tinge of wistfulness in his voice, one that made the gears in Rose's head carefully turn a little, but as she dug in her spoon for another bite, she was distracted by a sudden realisation.

"Hey, I was supposed to pay for these!"

Scorpius made an amused noise. "You were busy."

Rose shot him an unamused look. "Well, I'm paying for the next thing."

"Sure," he laughed, and the sound still felt like an orchestra swelling in Rose's ears. It was a noise she knew that she would never be able to get enough of, and she looked down at her ice-cream to hide her ridiculous smile.

They reached the end of the street and turned into the next one, and, upon seeing the familiar shop that lay at its end, stopped and looked at each other in unison.

Scorpius broke first, and the wry smile on his face sent Rose's mind into a tailspin. "I suppose all roads do lead to Rome." He inclined his head at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Shall we offer Mr. Barnett some company?"

Rose laughed. "We'll be offering him a heart attack." She took her last mouthful of ice-cream and noticed that Scorpius had finished with his too. "Are you done with-" she began to ask, but from the farthest corners of her periphery, a flash seemed to bounce off the edge of the window beside them, and her head immediately snapped towards it, her brow furrowing.

"What's the matter?" Scorpius asked, the confusion evident in his voice.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

Rose pointed to the window. "That like, flash."

Scorpius shook his head. "I didn't see anything."

Rose frowned. Maybe it had just been sunlight.

She looked at his still quizzical face and consciously tempered the suspicion that had begun to well in her stomach, summoning a smile and shrugging. "I guess it was nothing. Are you done with that?" When he nodded, she walked the empty cups to the nearest bin before they entered the bookstore, and the bell gave a familiar tinkle as they stepped inside together.

The comforting smell of books wafted in the air around them, and when they stopped at the nearest aisle, Rose's mind sparked at a memory, and she turned towards Scorpius, a smile pricking at her lips.

"Do you remember the first time we bumped into each other here?"

Scorpius grinned deviously, tracing a hand along the edge of the bookshelf. He knelt, prying out one of its contents, and held it out towards her.

"Until Magic," Rose said with a quiet laugh as she took it from him. Her eyes passed over its cover before she looked at him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Did you actually want this book, or did you just take it because you knew I wanted it?"

Scorpius' jaw dropped in offence. "Are you kidding? I went into this shop for the sole purpose of buying this bloody book, only to see that you'd already gotten your paws all over it." He shook his head, making a face at the memory. "I had to skulk around for ages pretending to be uninterested since I knew the minute you realised I wanted it, you would've taken it." He raised a brow at her. "Am I right?"

Rose paused, and then laughed guiltily. "Probably."

She held it out to him, and Scorpius knelt down again, sliding it back into place. He straightened, and suddenly the click of a door being opened echoed in the air before the sound of familiar footsteps began to draw towards them.

"Is that Scorpius Malfoy I hear—" Mr Barnett appeared from behind the bookcase, but he broke off as soon as he noticed Scorpius' companion. "…and Rose Weasley?"

Rose blushed, and Scorpius' eyes dropped to the floor before he nodded.

"We're here together," Rose explained, once she had found her voice.

"Well, I can see that," Mr Barnett said. "But what are you — oh!" His eyes widened and he pointed at them with his mouth agape. "No."

Scorpius cleared his throat, shrugging. "As Rose said, we're here together."

Mr Barnett's shocked expression suddenly turned to that of intense glee. "'Rose'? Oh, I don't believe it! Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley, on a date, in my bookshop!" He clapped his hands. "Just wait until Rosmerta hears this." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I had ten Galleons on you two, you know? Oh, I can't wait to tell her, the look on her face…" He adjusted his glasses, which, in his excitement, had slid halfway down his nose. "She said nothing would ever happen between you two, but I knew better, I said, "Rosmerta, just you wait, I-""

"You had a bet going?" Rose interrupted in disbelief.

"Oh, yes," the bookshop owner confirmed casually. "One that I have officially won, thank you very much." He dusted his hands against his apron. "Now, I don't want to keep you two, and besides, I have a very messy storeroom to put back in order. You'll let me know if you need anything, won't you?" He smiled beatifically again at them and winked before he tottered off, humming happily.

As his footsteps waned, Scorpius scoffed softly. "Ten Galleons?" he asked, rolling his eyes incredulously.

"Ridiculous," Rose agreed, assuming the same tone. "When do you think they made that bet?"

Scorpius chuckled quietly. "I haven't got a clue."

They laughed softly together for a moment, but as their laughter faded, their eyes met for one glimmering moment of clarity, and Rose's chest went light as she instantly recognised that look; it had been in his eyes earlier that day, when he'd reached into her hair and taken the flower out, before those girls had ruined the moment...

He reached out again, hesitantly, with the hand that had held hers, his fingers brushing against her cheeks, and then they were curling softly in the hair behind her ear — hair that she'd worn down, for him — and he moved towards her, his eyes flicking between her eyes and lips, and she felt her stomach flutter in anticipation.

"I'm glad you said yes, Rose," he said softly, so quietly she almost couldn't make out the words, and Rose had never truly understood how being so happy could make you so, so scared, until now.

"I'm glad you asked." The words ghosted across her lips and onto his, rolling gently in the air between them.

"So am I."

"I like it when you say my name," Rose whispered.

"I know," Scorpius murmured before his lips closed over hers.

---

"So what did you guys get up to yesterday?"

Gen looked at Al before she shrugged and took another sip of her orange juice. "Nothing, really. Just the usual. Three Broomsticks, Zonko's, Honeydukes — oh, but Al only spent fifteen minutes in the Quidditch shop instead of the usual, I don't know, seventy-five, so actually you could say the day took an incredibly historic turn."

Al pointed an accusatory fork laden with bacon at her. "You told me you saw Skye Parkin outside!"

"I believe I said, "Is that Skye Parkin outside?"" Gen objected, raising a finger in defense. "You're the one who clambered out of the shop like a seal who'd never seen land."

"You said you saw a flash of blonde hair—"

"Isn't Skye Parkin a redhead?" Rose wondered.

"—the only discerning factor that was clarified once I had re-entered the shop after terrifying some poor redheaded girl trying to enjoy a nice date."

"Albus Potter, if you can't recognise your own cousin that is through no one's fault but your own," Gen declared, and Rose let out a burble of laughter, grinning at Al as he stuffed his food into his mouth in an effort to hide his own smile.

As their laughter died down, Rose picked up her glass of juice and held it in front of her lips, still beaming behind it as she watched Gen snag a tomato from Al's plate (he never ate tomatoes, and yet for some reason they always wound up there), and a part of her felt incredibly whole.

As she lifted her fork to dig back into her scrambled eggs, though, that feeling shifted, and Rose frowned at the sudden unsettling sensation of eyes on her. She turned her head slightly, and when the two fifth year girls immediately got identical deer-in-the-headlights looks, clamping their mouths shut and snapping their heads away, a familiar sense of suspicion bloomed in the pit of her stomach.

"So what did you and Scorpius do?"

Al's question prompted her, and she blinked her wariness away. "What? Oh, we uh…" She exchanged a quick glance with Gen (they'd had a rare-ish, very girly chat earlier that morning under the guise of sending the sweets they'd bought home where she'd filled her in on everything). "You know, nothing special, just the usual stuff."

Al raised his eyebrows. "Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley on a date is not "usual", Rose, it's a bloody miracle."

Something inside Rose still fluttered at Al's words, but she shrugged casually. "Seriously, we basically moseyed around the place, went to the bookshop-"

Al grimaced. "Okay, actually, I think I know all I need to know about this date. Can you pass the syrup?"

Gen snorted and reached for the folded up Daily Prophet from next to her, beginning to rifle through it as she asked, "Why would you want to know any details where your cousin and rival-turned-buddy-cop-bestie are concerned?"

Al tossed her a dry look as he took the jug of maple syrup from said cousin. "Ha. Ha. You know, if you're worried that Scorpius is going to outrank you, you can just say so."

Without looking up, Gen opened her mouth to retort, but she suddenly froze, her eyes growing wide as they stopped scanning the paper and simply stared.

"Gen?" Rose asked immediately, her brow creasing.

Gen's eyes darted to her friend's face and then down again; she blinked a couple of times and then abruptly folded the newspaper shut, saying breezily, "Oh, it's nothing. I thought I saw Andrew McCormack but it was someone else, never mind."

Rose's expression didn't change. "You're a God-awful liar, Genevieve Chang. Give it here."

"It's really not important—" Gen began to say again, but Rose was already leaning over, grabbing at the paper insistently, and Gen had no choice but to reluctantly surrender it to her.

Gen bit her lip anxiously, conflict etched into her face as Rose re-opened the Prophet. "Rose, it's not that—"

But Rose had found what Gen had been looking at, and she made a choked noise ("Let me see," Al demanded) before instinctively swivelling around in her seat to look at the Slytherin table behind her, but there was only the empty space where he usually sat.

"Oh my God."

---

Scorpius looked up from his book as Rose stormed into their dorm, brandishing the morning's paper at him before flinging it down onto the table. "Can you believe this?!"

He blinked a few times in confusion at her before he leant forward and cast his gaze on the page that the newspaper had landed on. His eyes immediately latched onto the picture in the middle — not that he could've missed it; it was taking up more than a quarter of the entire page — and they widened infinitesimally. "Oh."

His gaze flicked to her before he read on, and after a few seconds of feeling her eyes boring into the back of his head, he sat back and angled his head around to face her. "Does it bother you?"

She huffed and sat down next to him, crossing her arms. "Don't they have anything better to write about?"

"Clearly not. Does it bother you?" he repeated, eyeing her carefully.

She glanced at him and looked away again, chewing at her lip. "I don't know," she finally confessed. "I mean, well, I…" She sighed wearily, and turned towards him. "Doesn't it bother you?" she asked instead, which Scorpius took to mean, Yes, it does.

In truth, Scorpius felt oddly calm and unperturbed about the entire thing. He supposed a byproduct of his family being victim to a good amount of unsavoury press over the years meant that things like this didn't faze him.

"No," he said honestly, closing his book, and her brow furrowed.

Still, she remained quiet, and Scorpius watched her as she continued to mull it all over, and her eyes passed over his book before she drew in one side of her mouth. "You know the entire school is gonna know about this now."

"It's not like we were trying to keep it a secret," Scorpius pointed out.

"I know, but it's not like we were walking around holding hands or anything."

"That's because we never did that before."

There was something there that neither of them were saying, but that they were both thinking. The fact of people knowing meant that they had to acknowledge that there was something to know, and now that there was something, there was something to lose. Like previously they'd only been flicking a coin, and it had been endlessly spinning and spinning, but now it had slowed, teetering on its edge, and sooner or later it was going to land one way or the other.

"It's not necessarily about that," Rose said, her voice suddenly gentler. "I wanted…I wanted it to be on our terms, not" — she gestured in annoyance at the paper still lying on the table — "published as a spectator sport." There was a moment of silence, and then she turned back to him. "How much did you read?" she ventured cautiously.

"In ten seconds? Not much. It wasn't very gripping stuff anyway." He paused. "How much did you read?"

She didn't answer, giving him only a guilty-ish look, and Scorpius sighed. "I thought so."

He had a strange compulsion to inject some humour into the situation, maybe just to make that expression on her face go away. "Celebrity is a curse, you know."

Rose gave him a dry look, and, in doing so, her gaze caught on the paper again, and she hesitated. "I…you probably already got this from our run-in with Teddy and Victoire, but I haven't told my family about this—us, yet."

Scorpius felt a wave of panic wash over him. "Whoa, Weasley, this is all going a little fast, don't you think? I mean, we only went on the one date yesterday, we don't need to give everyone a dissertation on it-"

"Too late," Rose interrupted flatly before her dark expression dissolved and she just sighed again. "I mean…I know, you're right. Not that it matters now, I suppose, what with that." She glowered in its direction, and Scorpius finally reached for it and drew it closed, putting it on his side of the sofa and out of sight. He would've burned it if they'd still kept the fire going.

Rose bit her lip, and then she asked, "Won't your parents have something to say?"

Scorpius shook his head. "No, why would they?"

Rose opened her mouth and then closed it, clearly struggling to answer, and Scorpius rolled his eyes. "I'm from a disgraced family, Weasley, there's no need to tiptoe around the fact."

"I didn't mean it like that," she immediately objected. "I was more meaning that…well, our families aren't exactly each other's biggest fans."

"Oh. Right," Scorpius said, wondering how he could've forgotten about that. And then, lamely, "Yeah."

She met his eyes and laughed weakly, and then she didn't say anything else, and neither did he, because what were they supposed to say?

Scorpius didn't really know what came over him in the silence that followed, but he lifted a hand and rested it on her thigh — in comfort or in some sort of solidarity, he didn't know, maybe it was both — and he felt the near-imperceptible jump of her leg before it yielded to his touch and relaxed. She looked at his hand, at her leg beneath it, and after a moment, she took his hand in hers. She studied it, tracing two fingers across his knuckles, across the light veins beneath his skin in patterns that made the whole surface of his hand tingle and the length of his spine shiver, and then she gave another sigh.

"You started calling me 'Weasley' again."

Scorpius felt the upward twist of his lips. "Sorry. I'll try better next time, Rose."

She rolled her eyes at him as she maneuvered his hand around her shoulders, and snuggled into his side. "Whatever, Malfoy."

He laughed, a light rumble that he could feel vibrating against her head, and she shifted a little against him, a little closer.

"My dad is so gonna kill me," she mumbled into his chest. And then, more hopefully, "But only after he kills you."

Scorpius' eyes flicked down towards her, almost marvelling at the way she fit so perfectly against him, and then he leaned his head back until it was resting against the sofa behind him, allowing his eyes to drift closed.

"Yeah," he agreed after a moment. "That sounds about right."

---

A/N:

Hi guys! Thank you, as always, for your incredible patience as I plugged away at this chapter ❤❤ Hope everyone enjoyed this cute lil (mammoth-length) date chapter with cute lil date stuff — I know some of you were upset that the last chapter was set so far in the past after *that* kiss, so hopefully this was a nice way to get back into the present story :) This chapter was super fun to write, though fun fact, it took me a while to get back into the groove of things, and it turned out that writing Liv and Toby's Hogsmeade scene was what my brain needed in order to do that. Also, I had "Test Drive" from the HTTYD soundtrack on repeat for a lot of the scenes in this chapter as a way to fuel all of the ~emotions~ I wanted to convey and let me just say, John Powell can take everything that I have. Anyways, we're hitting the big 2-0 next chapter with 3 left to go; the end is fast approaching! Hope everyone is having a lovely Tuesday and getting into the Christmas spirit, if you're so inclined to celebrate! Chapter titles come from Motion City Soundtrack's L.G. FUAD and Fall Out Boy's I Don't Care.

P.S. To the person who PM'd me a few chapters ago about a character in fiction that Scorpius reminded me of: I hope this chapter finally answered your question ;) On a similar vein, Toby is very Bingley-esque.

Oh, and a few questions!

Q: little late to the party here, but what would u consider to be scorpius and rose's biggest character flaws?

A: Ooh, great question! For Rose, I would say that it's her fear of failure and how much her self-esteem and worth is dependent on her successes. For Scorpius, unless he likes you, finds you the least bit interesting, or wants something from you, you are essentially meaningless to him, and he will treat you as such.

Q: personally I would definitely prefer not to have the cookies at all Since there ISN'T a big red siren, I'd much rather be surprised by full new updates than disappointed by emails which aren't them.

A: Hmm fair point! However, since I know a lot of people enjoy them, how about we assume that there's gonna be one cookie between each chapter update, and then no one is surprised?

Q: dude you write like a slytherin. and is it just me or was there some serious ~slytherin appreciation~ during [chp. 18]?

A: Guilty as charged ;)