Scorpius Malfoy had not lied to Rose that day. He had stayed up most of the night, deeply engaged in the book she had lent him. He never thought a book could be so entertaining. And he was a quick reader, that's how he was able to keep good grades and still focus on Quidditch while in school. His pre-season practice schedule consisted of early morning workouts and meetings, and afternoon break, and then evening drills and scrimmages. He hadn't expected to ask for another recommendation when he went to return the book but something inside of him didn't want their conversation to end so soon.

He spent the next few days thinking about her. Thinking about the way the dress had hugged her body and her deep blue eyes that never hesitated to meet his. He didn't understand why he hadn't noticed her much while they were at school. But then he remembered why he hadn't. It made him uneasy, thinking about what the other boys at school had said about her. There was no denying that she was, bigger, than many girls at Hogwarts and he recalled her being the subject of many jokes among students. He cared about that sort of thing while in school, but that seemed like forever ago. Now, just weeks out of the Castle, women of all ages were throwing themselves at him, especially after the bloody Witch Weekly article announced he was single. But not Rose. When he walked into the shop two nights before and found her, those eyes enthralled by what she was reading, curls falling out of pins she had pulled it back with, she seemed bothered by his presence. She was confident and witty, and damn it was sexy, sexier than any figure he had ever seen.

The following days Scorpius was made to travel all of Britain, doing promotional appearances for the team. But he couldn't shake her from his mind. He finished the book while he was gone, slower than before, but he wanted to be sure that he could go back as soon as possible when he was in London. When he apparated to his flat and dropped his bag off he noted it was 8 o'clock. He knew she would probably be bothered, if it was anything like the other night, but he decided to go anyway.

Rose half expected him to waltz in the next day, the other half expected to never see him again. She went about her normal routine, making recommendations, ordering new books, trading with shops around the world, and, thankfully, closing right on time. Four days later she had completely pushed any thought of her strange encounters with the Malfoy boy out of her mind. Until that evening, while she was sweeping the floor and he walked in, half an hour before the doors were supposed to lock.

"You're doing it the muggle way," he remarked instead of greeting her, bewildered that the brightest witch of their class was not using magic to clean the floor. But she merely shrugged, not even bothering to look up because she recognized the voice and knew of no other who would disturb her so late and not even say hello.

"I only just turned 17 a few months ago. Plus, I spent summers at my muggle grandparents house and it just stuck, I prefer it in a way."

"The other night you were using magic."

"I was feeling rather lazy. What are you here for now?"

"A book of course," he said slyly. She stop sweeping and looked up at him at last. He ignored the tug at his heart when he saw her eyes again.

"Which?"

"I was hoping you could recommend another?"

"By the amount of recommendations you require I would not be surprised if you have never picked up a book in your life!" she cried incredulously & set down her broom, disappearing into the many aisles. He scurried to catch up with her.

"Here." she thrust a book into his chest. "This one's only 5 sickles. If you don't mind, I'll finish cleaning up now." She picked up the broom and resumed sweeping. He almost left, when he blurted out something into the silence.

"Err, maybe I could stay and keep you company?" he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Rose resisted the urge to burst out in laughter and the sight of him. She had observed him in many states over the years; confident, angry, drunk, and proud, but never nervous and it was quite the sight.

"I do this every night without company, I don't see what makes you think I need it this night."

He laughed lightly. "Surely you don't need it, but I thought it might be nice for both of us."

"Surely Scorpius Malfoy, the Quidditch hero of our time, has better ways to occupy his time on a friday night."

"So you're a fan," he smirked crossing his arms. This time she really did laugh.

"Hardly. I wouldn't call reading the paper from time to time and having a little brother who can only manage to talk about Quidditch or the witches of his class being a fan." He had no response and she was moments away from asking him to leave when something stopped her. Something about him made her want him to stay.

"I'll let you stay, but I'm going to continue with this," she lifted the broom slightly. "And don't go behind the counter."

"Of course." She turned on her heels and began to sweep up another aisle. He walked parallel to her in the neighboring row. The silence was deafening for a while, as Scorpius began to curse himself for even suggesting he stay. He had not a clue what to talk to her about. He almost made up an excuse to leave when she broke the silence.

"Did you enjoy seeing the country for a few days?" she said causally.

"Are you sure you aren't a fan?" he joked.

"I told you I read the paper. It isn't my fault they waste precious space covering your journey."

"It was nice. Didn't have much time to see anything for too long."

"I suppose they would keep your schedule pretty tight."

"They make more of my choices than I do sometimes. Have you traveled much?"

"A few times. We go to the french shore often with the rest of the family, although I wouldn't consider that a vacation."

"Ah, yes, Al mentioned that to me a few times. It always seemed like a good time." Of course, she thought. They were housemates and teammates during their time at Hogwarts, it would make sense that they were mates too.

"It was when I was younger, but after a while I grew tired of quidditch matches and chess games and dinners where it was too loud to hold any real conversation. I'd like to travel more, on my own one day. Do you travel much?"

"Every Christmas my dad surprises my mom with some trip somewhere around the world. But then it's just the three of us, which is a different kind of unpleasant."

"Ever been to Romania?" she put the broom away and began to dust the shelves.

"It's not exactly my mum's ideal destination." he chuckled. "Why do you ask?"

"It's the location of this year's World Cup. I reckon she'll be glad to go to see her son play."

"The more you talk Rose, the more I don't believe you aren't a fan," he grinned.

"The Prophet won't shut up about the hope for England."

"They haven't selected the team yet, but I doubt I'll be selected this year."

"Humble too. Do you have any flaws?" she teased.

"None that I can admit to you."

"I can think of one. You can be a right pain in the arse when I try to close down my- I mean the shop. Which I need to do now, if you don't mind."

"RIght then, I'll be off. I've gotten in your way enough." He headed towards the door and she followed in order to lock it behind him.

"Enjoy the book," she smiled sweetly before swiftly shutting the door and locking it in one movement. She sighed and she saw him disappear with one flick of the wand, apparating off to wherever it was young Quidditch players go on their friday nights.