Moon River

by turnaroundeverynowandthen

During the last leg of an international tour, Rose finds herself at odds with the burgeoning music act she's been put in charge of. Can she manage an out-of-control lead-singer, a familial clash, a rabid fan-base, a demanding record label, and most of all, the ever-increasing hammerings of her heart whenever a certain blonde bandmate appears? Post-Hogwarts. Slow-Burn.

12. I'm Crossing You

I've dreamed about this chapter for so long. I really, really hope you like it.

Xoxo

—-

May 19th, 2030

The Daily Prophet honors the life of Molly Eleanor Weasley nee Prewett. Esteemed war veteran and patron of Muggle-Wizard relations, Molly Weasley passed away peacefully in her sleep last night; May 18th 2030. Molly leaves behind her husband, Arthur Septimus Weasley, four sons; William Arthur Weasley, Charles Henry Weasley, Percival Ignatius Weasley, George Fabian Weasley, one daughter; Ginevra Molly Weasley, thirteen grandchildren, and one great-grandchild. She joins two sons; Fred Gideon Weasley and Ronald Billius Weasley. We ask that you give her family peace and condolences in this trying time. Service is to be announced.

-The Daily Prophet.

What did Rose Weasley know of grief? It was a question she often asked herself.

In a sense, it was all she knew. Her most fragile memories existed in grey worlds where mothers cried and laments often punctuated the silence brought by cruel, unforeseen absences. However, the grief was not fully hers. She was not grieving the loss of a husband or a son. She was grieving a father. And in the grand scheme of her lifetime, her father, any father, was a concept that was becoming farther away and harder to grasp.

She found it difficult to grieve someone she did not really know. And although his doings were as legend as folklore, and his accomplishments read like prose, she could not remember the feel of his arms, or the sound of his voice.

Your father was a great man, she was often told.

He was one of the kindest people I knew…

No one made me laugh harder.

He was braver than most.

It was almost like scripture. In her angriest moments, she found it woefully unfair that so many people, insignificant people, held pieces of her father in their minds while her vague notions of him were fading memories. Like a watercolor painting left in the sun for too long.

It was often assumed that she was the resident expert in terms of death, and its sudden and relentless departing. She was looked upon as someone to seek in a moment of sadness; either the passing of a grandparent, or a beloved pet.

I just miss them so much, a beleaguered classmate would cry, looking to her for the empathetic solace they would find in her mutual loss.

What she couldn't bear to tell them was that she didn't understand what it meant to miss someone like that; to feel their absence so tangibly. She was too young, and she had not allowed herself to sense, for a moment, what her life might have been like with Ron Weasley there to guide her.

She felt it every so often; sometimes suddenly and embarrassingly. Like, once; watching Lily run into the arms of her own father after a nasty fall on the pavement outside, or while at a friends graduation party, where the outfit she had worn was weather inappropriate, and a father there had unassumingly offered her his coat, just to stay warm. The first had caused an ache inside Rose so fierce, she ran and threw herself into the lake adjacent to the Potter family home. The latter had caused brash response that shocked the father in question. She had to leave the celebration, her shame was overwhelming.

She assumed it was just an unavoidable aspect of who she was; a plight of circumstance that she would have to deal with till she too left this earth, in the same way her father had. She was just broken, forever missing an important piece in a jigsaw puzzle that made-up Rose Weasley.

If she did not dwell on it, then the idea of the loss would mean less; hurt less.

If she did not get close to those who could so easily leave her in the same way, she would never feel the ache of separation that would inevitably come.

If she did not let anyone see beneath her veil of indifference and careful discretion, they would never uncover how deeply fractured and imploringly empty her interiors actually were.

And she was doing a damn good job at keeping it all together…until.

Last night.

She had kissed Scorpius Malfoy. He had kissed her. And not delicate, chaste kisses. They had all but devoured one another on that lonely beach. He had whispered her name. She had told him she loved him. And then she had left him. She had cut herself open, bleeding out years of feeling for one radical moment of passion. And in all of it, instead of just hurting herself, she had hurt him. She could not despise herself more.

And then the news of her grandmother. She felt the phrase "kick her while she's down" was apropos.

As the three invariably grief-stricken young adults waited for their London bound port-key confirmation, Rose felt the deadening arch of unfamiliar emotion. Her Gran was gone. She felt so numb she could barely stand it.

Granted, she had not been as close to her grandmother as some of her other cousins, but there was something treacherously symbolic about the sudden departure of the Weasley matriarch. She could not recall much of her family's function before the absence of Ron Weasley, but she knew her grandmother had an intrinsic hand in making sure the Weasley's and Potters didn't fall apart completely.

Her uncle Harry had not been the same since. She knew that from the workings of him as a father. The ripping loss of a best friend, with a bond so impossibly deep; she could only imagine the maniacal anger that might inspire. Albus and Lily felt it. James felt it especially. But Molly Weasley had an important role in making sure her beloved son-in-law did not go off-the-rails completely.

She feared, in more ways than one, how her family would manage to hold themselves together now the heart of the body of kin was so suddenly gone.

She looked over at Albus, his face was ashen and absent. While in the early hours of his grief he had looked upon her with rage; incapable of understanding why she had refrained from telling him about their gran's fall, earlier that day. He now looked upon the world with vacant sorrow. She imagined he was still waiting for the reality of what had happened to fully sink in.

The old tea-kettle -acting as portkey- they had sat in front of them, the one currently awaiting travel clearance, began to glow with a sort-of greenish hue.

"Looks like we're cleared…", she said softly, to no-one in particular.

She glanced up at Scorpius. His expression was worn. When he had followed her up from the beach and found both her and Albus wrapped in the sudden impact of the tragic news, he had immediately shifted. While Rose made the necessary phone calls; notifying Tom of their need to depart, updating Mina on the halting of their shows…a heartbreaking phone call to her mother that consisted of a confirmation of the dreaded tidings and a promise to arrive home as soon as possible, Scorpius began packing their suitcases. She did not need to ask.

His own grief was not comparable to Rose or Albus's, but she knew there was a part of him that felt sorrow for the loss of Molly Weasley. As a youth, she had welcomed him with open arms; showing him a love she was endlessly able to give to those who seemed to be lacking. Rose knew Scorpius was hurting, and in a way that was so wildly out of character she could barely understand it, she wanted her arms around him; somehow soothing the anguish they were both feeling.

She knew she had given up the right to ever do that, however. Her sorrow must be her own. She could not lean on him. She did not deserve it. Not after last night.

The green glow grew brighter; signaling their need for a sudden departure.

"Albus?", she said, turning to him again. He said nothing, but wordlessly grabbed his suitcase and walked over to the tea-kettle. Scorpius followed suit.

Mart came out from the kitchen; looking at the three of them with a sad smile. He was staying in Los Angeles.

"We'll see you in a few days.", sighed Rose, giving him a nod.

She scanned the house one last time; bracing herself for the journey across the Atlantic, and the mournful chaos that awaited them once they arrived.

The three of them placed a hand on the kettle, and with a definitive pop, her vision was slowly submerged into darkness.

—

The first thing Rose noticed was the smell. An oaky, woodsy scent drifted in through the darkness. It hit her in a sweeping sort of nostalgia she felt all the way in the back of her throat. A light wind blew against her face, signaling the end of their travel. The outline of the house came into vision.

The sun was beginning to set; the lights inside the home were peaking through the early darkness; vague shadows moved past the glow from inside. Rose gulped.

She had not seen her mother's home in almost half a year.

They hit the ground with a soft thud; noises slowly began creeping in. The slight chirp of crickets, a small breeze rustling the leaves of the trees surrounding. They stood, their shallow breaths populating the noise of the outdoors. No one made a move forward.

Rose turned to Albus, her gaze uncertain.

"I…", he said, his eyes fixed on the shadows moving behind the panes of glass. "I'm going to drop my things off back at Grimauld…" His voice was far away.

"Al-", Rose started, moving to grasp his arm. His forlorn gaze

refused to meet hers.

"-I'll see you later, okay?"

And with another pop, he disapparated away; leaving Rose and Scorpius as solitary wards outside the large home.

Rose sighed shakily; giving Scorpius a look that she hoped conveyed the overbearing potion of emotion she was currently experiencing. Fear, grief, anger...guilt.

He looked back, his expression neutral. If their eyes had locked just a moment longer, she would have seen his face break; a wash of tenderness even he couldn't keep at bay for the girl he felt so deeply for.

"Shall we?"

Her eyes were fixed on the large, amber doorknob separating them from entering completely and making their presence known to the grieving family, whose muffled voices could be heard over the din of the evening.

"We shall…", she heard him whisper.

The entryway was dark when they walked in. For the first few moments, their presence went relatively unnoticed. It seemed most were gathered in the large dining room, down the hall. The swarming of familiar voices began to invade her senses; hitting her with a wave of unfamiliar emotion.

"I'm just… I'm just so mad, you know?"

"I know, Nin. But he's our brother, he-"

"He should BE here. I need him… His family needs him..."

That would be Ginny and... Bill? Maybe Charlie… As the two grew older, Rose found it harder and harder to distinguish between her elder uncles.

"-Mum, here's your tea."

"Tea?"

"Auntie's just brewed it…"

Lily's clear voice was recognizable down the hall. Rose could sense a swatch of weariness behind the witches offer. She heard the creak of footsteps.

"Did you ask your grandfather if he wanted any?"

"I think-"

"Arthur's sleeping in the den, Gin-"

"-Oh, look at this one!"

Two new voices. As Rose and Scorpius walked down the picture-lined entryway, Rose could see an ambling chorus of red and brown heads, crowded around her old dinner table; swarms of drifting photos piled in front of them.

"Their hair! Oh, they looked so young. How were they ever this young?"

"Everyone's young once, Nin…"

"You know what I mean-"

"-How old do you reckon they were?"

Rose found herself halting at the corner, allowing the moment to play out in front of her. She was surprised by the sudden warmth she felt. She didn't exactly expect to walk into a somber funeral home, but there was a subtle shock in seeing smiles, tinkles of laughter, friendly ribbing…

"They must have been...twenty or so…", signed Ginny, holding the picture up to the light. From the outline, she could see two cheery faces beaming for the camera. "This was definitely before the wedding. Mum's hair was long…"

Her Uncle George peered over, nabbing the photo from his sister.

"Gran and Gramps got married when they were twenty?" A younger voice called from the kitchen.

Her cousin Freddy stumbled out from her peripherals, leaning to look as well. "That's how old I am…"

"Can you imagine..?", sighed Lily, a teacup balanced in her pale, slender hands.

"-Oh, the family photos…", a soft, honeyed voice called out. Rose gulped again. Hearing her mother's cadence overwhelmed her. She could feel tiny pinpricks of emotion creeping their way up her throat.

"This is the year Ronald refused to wear his jumper…" Ginny sighed again, tracing the outline of each member with her fingers.

George chuckled, "If you look closely, you can see Fred and I have actually switched jumpers in this photo… I don't think mum ever knew."

Ginny's laugh tinkled through the dining room; her fingers dancing between the two young boys in the photo, F & G emblazoned on their sweaters. Then her eyes shifted, her mouth twisting, "I think she knew. She always knew…"

Tears were pooling in the wells of her aunts large eyes before Rose knew what was happening. Her heart jumped into her throat; unprepared for the rapid unleashing of feeling.

"Oh, Mum…", cried Lily, her teacup coming down on the table with a clash. Her arms wrapped around her mother; trapping her in affectionate prison. George followed suit.

"Nin…" Bill sighed from the end of the table; his arm stretched, placing a hand on her elbow.

To anyone else, it was a touching scene. The family spent a silent spell, allowing Ginny to quietly cry as the moment of grief washed over her. It made Rose's palms sweat; her heart nervously hammering in the midst of her aunts sorrow.

Ginny sniffed, shaking her head after a time, "Agh, I'm s-s-sorry… I hate to keep doing this."

"Shh…", silenced her mother, grabbing the picture gently. "I love this photo. Ronald's scowl makes me laugh so hard. He looks just like Rosie in this. That little crinkle near his eye…They could be twins."

Rose heard the tiniest of chuckles from the boy behind her. She was surprised at the relief it inspired in her; allowing a momentary reprieve from the anxious workings inside. She almost reached back; wanting to give him a playful nudge. But she stopped at the last moment; reminding herself again of the bridge she had so decidedly burned between the two of them.

"Speaking of Rose…", Bill swooped in, allowing Ginny a moment to collect herself. "When's she arriving?"

Her mother looked up, her stoic expression masking the anticipation held in her tone, "Any minute now… I believe her and Albus are waiting on portkey permissions."

Rose cleared her throat; feeling her time hiding in the shadows was coming to an appropriate end.

Six pairs of eyes flew to her.

"Ta-da…", she said with a weak smile.

Her mother practically flew out of her seat, crossing the expanse of the table and wrapping her in a fierce, rib-cracking hug that threatened to immediately upturn any unearthed emotions she had hiding deep within her. Something only a mother's hug can do.

They held each other silently for a moment.

"Oh, Rose.", Hermione sniffed; resting a soft hand on the back of her daughter's head and kissing her cheeks.

Rose breathed deeply. Her mother smelled of apricot and parchment. She smelled like home. She felt the same creeping pinpricks of emotion crawl behind her eyes, igniting the workings of tears that threatened to fall.

"Mum…", she sighed, breathing again. She did not know whether it was more to keep the treacherous tears at bay, or to continue inhaling her mother's safe and nostalgia-laced perfume.

When they pulled away, her mother's cheeks were wet and her eyes were misty.

"Oh, Mum…", Rose gave, lamely. She used the sleeves of her shirt to wipe away the lamentations. "Don't- Don't cry… I'm here. I'm-"

Hermione shook her head, placing a hand on Rose's face and giving her a sad smile, "I know. I'm sorry. You hate it when I show feeling of any sort-"

Rose winced, returning the melancholic grin. "Mum, I-"

Hermione's gaze turned to the presence behind Rose.

"Scorpius! Dear, I didn't realize you'd be traveling as well…"

She abandoned Rose, throwing her arms around the tall blonde with genuine affection. Scorpius's cheeks glowed a rosy red.

"My condolences, Mrs. Granger…", he lamented in between bissou, bissou's.

Rose watched the momentary interaction with a strange sort of ache. Watching her mother and Scorpius talk, she was acutely aware of how her tender heart began to swell in their enjoyment of one another.

Her feelings were halted by the fierce grip of a hand on her arm.

"Where's Al?"

Lily's piercing eyes held lofty bags beneath them; her now pale skin aiding in the effect. Her attire was almost alarmingly toned down. Rose could not recall ever seeing her cousin err on the side of such averageness. It was slightly off-putting.

Rose could only look at Lily; fearing any brought attention to Al's absence would only upset the already grieving family present. Aunt Ginny especially.

Lily's tired eyes sparked with understanding, followed quickly by burning anger.

"I can't fuck-", she paused; checking her surroundings and lowering her voice till only Rose could hear it. "I can't fucking believe he's not here…"

Rose could feel her anxious heartbeat begin to return.

"He went to Grimauld…", she said in a low-tone, trying to dissuade Lily's mounting rage. "He said he'd be back."

Her eyes narrowed. "And you believe him?"

Rose floundered, fearing an outburst "I-"

Lily scoffed "I hope Kreacher pisses in his suitcase-"

"-Rose, oh sweetheart-", Ginny moved between the two fiercly whispering girls, giving Rose a warm, watery embrace.

"Aunt Gin…", she sighed; hugging back. Her eyes fell momentarily to the scene happening beside her. Scorpius was in full conversation with her Uncle Bill and cousin; shaking hands, discussing travel. Their eyes met. She quickly retracted hers, feeling a heavy hand of guilt in her desired connection with him.

Ginny pulled back, looking down the hall. "Where's-?"

"-Left, of course.", Lily burst, her frustration flooding over. "Probably didn't want to run into dad."

Ginny's face fell; her mouth twisting again horribly. Rose glared at Lily.

"He's just gone to Grimauld-", Rose prompted, placing a hand on her aunts shoulder. She felt another presence behind her; her young cousin coming in for a hug as well. "Freddy, hey…"

Rose tried to turn back to Ginny in time; hoping to convey a modicum of apology on her cousins behalf. But she was already shaking her head; another pooling of tears beginning.

"It's for the best.", she sighed, shaking her head. "It's-"

"Where's Albus?", Freddy questioned, innocently. His gaze registered on Scorpius; unaware of the wave of emotion he had understandably inspired.

Ginny backed down into a chair, her body shaking again with cries. Lily was next to her in a moment.

"Mum, please.", she sighed, rubbing her arm gently. "Don't think of him."

"F-f-first Percy, now him…"

Hermione came as well; placing a firm, but gentle hand on her sister-in-law's shoulder.

"Perc will be here.", she said with a tender nudge. " Albus will be here. This is all a lot to deal with."

Ginny shook her head with vigor. "-If they cared…"

"Percy says he isn't going to be able to make it…", Lily had gotten up from the table, leaving her aunt to comfort her distraught mother and moved to whisper into Rose's ear. "To his own mother's funeral."

Rose whipped her head wildly to face Lily; her face painted in shock. Things had always been fraught with that particular uncle, but she would have hardly ever fathomed a stance so decided would be taken in light of his mother's passing. "What-"

"-Rosie Posie!", a booming voice came over, giving her a hug as well.

"George.", she said, feeling slightly out of breath. The cavalcade of voice and emotions was proving to be a bit overwhelming for her. "Love the coat."

He was sporting an orange and yellow brocade number that clashed wildly with his slightly greying hair. He was the most boldly fashionable of the Weasley's, something she always admired.

She turned again, alarmed by another cry coming from Ginny.

"James is coming in with Adelaide and Gretel tonight.", Lily cut in, hell-bent on updating Rose with information she didn't exactly feel was pertinent… "They're staying at Godric's-"

"-I haven't seen my own son in months-", Ginny continued to wail. Rose could feel her palms sweat; the anxious heartbeat returning.

"Ginny, love, let's take a walk-", her mother soothed, trying to get the woman to stand.

"-Louis will be in tomorrow morning.", Lily's voice drifted in. "I think he's bringing Dom with him..."

Rose was caught between half-heartedly listening to Lily prattle on, watching her aunt have a slight meltdown she felt potentially responsible for, and trying not to search for the comforting eyes of a certain blonde somewhere behind her; making nice with her family.

"There's so much to do.", Ginny continued to cry. "We have to sort through pictures-"

"Vicky will be in with the kids soon-", Lily went on, her voice suddenly holding a slight edge.

"-Pictures can wait.", Hermione reasoned; looking up at George for support.

"Do you want me to drag him back here?", George boomed, the edges of his wild coat upturning as he faced the door to the outside. "I'll do it-"

Her mother's eyes narrowed, obviously not content with that particular level of assistance. "George, I don't think that would be very helpful-"

"Everyone else is coming in just for the service-", Lily continued; her arms folding in final concession of information.

Suddenly, Rose was aware of a missing party.

"-Where's Jane?", she asked; her voice cracking slightly. If Rose was home, her young sister was usually the first to greet her; a wild story and affectionate hug being barreled her way.

"If Percy can't come to his own mother's funeral, who's to say Albus won't show up to mine?", Rose heard Ginny cry again, her voice bordering on hysterics. "How could a son be so cruel?"

"Upstairs. She's having a fit.", Lily dismissed, in regards to Jane's whereabouts. She turned then, looking towards her mother in haughty affect. "Mum, I'll be at your funeral. Isn't that enough for you?"

Rose shook her head; craning her neck towards the stairs leading to the second story. "Jane's having a fit?"

"Some of us aren't built to charge into sadness in the way that you are.", Hermione reasoned, kindly. " I'm sure Albus is terrified right now-"

"-Wait, why is Jane having a fit?", Rose cried; turning to her mother for answer. "Is she upset about Gran?"

Hermione sighed; looking at her eldest daughter with a recently unseen weariness in her eyes.

"She has a recital tonight, and we can't go.", she said, plainly. Her tone was neutral, but Rose could hear in her voice; this was a battle she'd been raging all day.

"Dance.", she continued, sitting to face Rose. "Ed's, of course, out of the region on business..."

Rose hadn't realized Ed was gone; thinking he was merely away at the office. She felt a pang of guilt at her negligence. She heard the slight tremor of sadness come through her mother's explanation.

"-She's been crying about it for hours, poor thing.", Ginny sniffed; unaware of the ironically mirrored state she was currently exhibiting.

"-He'll only just be getting back in time for the...service tomorrow.", Hermione continued. Rose wondered if anyone else caught the clip in her voice at the mention of the proceedings taking place the next day. "Or he'd take her..."

At that moment, a cry was heard from the floor above. It was the unmistakable lamentations of a small child; exhausted from the cruel offerings life often gave. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, her teeth clicking together with a slight set of her jaw.

"It breaks my heart, but there's honestly so much going on-", she continued, "I'll go up and let her know you're here-"

"-Does she understand why?", Rose cut in. There was something particularly cutting about the sound of Jane's crying. It twisted her in a way she knew wasn't approximate to the current situation. Her mother, true to her nature, subtly pin-pointed the source of the upset.

"There's only so much a six-year-old can understand…", she said softly; her gentle eyes falling on Rose. They were talking about Jane, but also; they weren't just talking about Jane. Her anxious heart began to increase. The walls of the home suddenly felt too small, the air around began to feel too hot.

"Rosie, look at this one.", Ginny sniffed again; she had turned back to the pictures, over her spell of melancholy for the present moment. "It's you and Al in the garden."

Rose snapped her vision to where her aunt was peering over the mess of moving images. A young version of Albus and Rose sat huddled together under a large rooted tree, their faces streaked with dirt, their mouths breaking out into large grins. They were cackling with delight.

The image seemed strange to her; their smiles feeling out of place. She recalled the moment- realizing why the happiness felt so forgein. This picture must have been taken when they were five, or so. Before-

Suddenly, all of it felt much too much. Al was a ruddy genius; ditching the family proceedings when he could. Her eyes grazed over the piles of pictures. Too many people smiling up at her; unaware of the turn their world would take as life's cruel hand did what it pleased with them. Too many pictures of her gran, holding babies who would unfairly leave earth before she did; too many images of children delighting over birthday cakes that would only bring them one year closer to inevitable tragedy; too many images of Ron Weasley, holding a wife and children he loved deeply…

"-Where are you staying, Scorpius?" Lily's voice cut in, thankfully, through Rose's clouding thoughts. She wondered if anyone could see the obvious panic her interiors were encroaching on. It seemed everyone was in their own small world.

Lily was looking directly behind Rose. She realized Scorpius had come, his presence standing silently just behind her. She wondered, selfishly, if he could sense her current emotional standing. She hated the relief it inspired in her.

"I'm going to sleep at the Manor…", he said, slightly jolted at being addressed so directly. The whole of the dining room turned to look at him. "It's not too far. I just came to drop off Rose…"

I'm going to the Manor...

She felt her stomach bottom out with his words. She, obviously, had not assumed he would stay with her, but where he would actually sleep for the evening was a thought that hadn't crossed her mind for even a moment.

"I'll be back for the service…", she heard his voice come in over her thoughts.

The panic that was encroaching, began to slowly take over. He was leaving. He would be leaving her. The cruel reality of the sentiment curled through her at rapid speed; silently choking her. Oh, dear Merlin, she did not want him to leave. She felt her gaze begin to scan the floor; desperately trying to get ahold of her blatant and startling separation anxiety.

"Oh, that's much too far!", her mother's voice came in, ever the perfect hostess. "I can't bear the thought of you staying in that empty home, just to come back the next day. Stay with us! We'll have the couch made up for you."

Rose could have kissed her mother.

"-Oh no, Mrs. Granger, I couldn't- It's really no problem-", he stuttered, opting for politeness.

Rose felt her heart ache; her eyes squeezing shut for a moment to keep herself firmly rooted in reality. She didn't want him to go. She wanted him here, saving her from the full tidal wave of the next few days.

She felt so clearly in that moment. She couldn't face her family without him, couldn't deal with Lily's vapid anger without him, couldn't watch her resilient aunt dissolve into tears, couldn't sit and sift through visions of painful memories with a heartbroken family...without him.

She just couldn't.

Her mother persisted. "No, I absolutely insist. It's an hour's journey both ways-"

She could tell he was erring on the side of leaving; the weight of the past three days they had just experienced was still firmly situated on top of the two of them. She had no business asking him to stay, no business requesting him to be the friend she had grown to cherish, be the man she had grown to… well- She felt embarrassing pinpricks of tears begin to threaten her already fragile emotional standing. The thought of him walking out the door- and the cold void she would feel inside at his action- made her want to cry.

"-No, I really-", he continued.

She did the only thing she could think to do; the mounting trauma within aiding in the boldness of her action. She deftly reached behind her; fiercely grabbing his wrist and gripping it with as much emotion she could muster without causing too much attention.

It was a subtle move; only visible to someone who was looking directly at them, from behind. But it echoed volumes in the tiny space Rose and Scorpius occupied. It was a definitive declaration on her part. Time slowed.

Stay. Stay. Stay. Please. Her mind pleaded, hoping he could read the desperation held in her fingers gripping. I know, I don't deserve this. I know I kissed you last night, and then I ran. You have every right to walk out that door. I know. But please. Please stay. Please be my friend. Please.

If he was surprised, his body did not show it. She felt his hand move. For a terrifying moment, she assumed he was moving his hand away from her embrace; subtly letting her know this was not a request he could or would comply with.

Then, she felt his fingers wrapping around hers; squeezing them lightly and letting them fall. The sweet mix of tender electricity that coursed through her was almost too much to bear. He would stay.

"I really appreciate it, thank-you…", he sighed, acquiescing to Hermione's offer. Rose silently let out a deep breath she didn't realize she was holding. She now felt like crying for a completely different reason.

Her mother smiled warmly. "Then, it's settled."

She turned, moving towards the landing of the stairs. Rose and Scorpius stayed still for a moment, neither daring to look at one another. They both feared a single glance would either confirm or deny the unspoken agreement shared between the two.

"Why don't you go up and grab Jane yourself?", Hermione sighed, brushing a stray curl out of her face. Rose turned, careful to keep her gaze firmly on her mother and not glancing at the boy standing next to her. "Just a warning, she may be less excited than usual. She's experienced a lot the past two days that may inhibit her normal love for her big sister."

Rose nodded, moving to walk towards the staircase as well.

Suddenly, there was a commotion from the other side of the room. A strangled voice was calling out from the den.

"Molly! Molly! Molly! Where have you gone?"

Her mother's brow furrowed. Bill and George got up from their chairs immediately, rushing to the source of the upset. Ginny covered her mouth with her hands; fresh tears bubbling over.

"Oh dear…", her mother said, sadly.

Her grandfather was calling out, crying his late-wife's name in agony. Rose tensed, her fearful eyes being read by her mother instantly.

"He'll be fine…", she soothed, in a gentle voice meant to be heard by Rose alone. "It happens now, sometimes when he wakes up."

Rose was still frozen; petrified by the terrible cries that were coming from the far away room. The house was, again, much too small. The fire was much too hot. Even the promise of Scorpius's presence wasn't enough to keep her from fully dissolving into panic.

"Grief is a funny thing, Rosebud", her mother sighed. Rose winced slightly at the affectation. "One minute you're happy, the next you're not… It's all part of was makes us human."

She turned back to her mother, attempting to settle the deeply unsettled inner workings of her body. The sound of her grandfather's terror had begun to quiet down, but her rapid heartbeat had not.

"Why-", she started, her voice catching. "Why don't I take Jane to her recital?"

"Oh Rosie, no.", her mother shook away the offer. "You just got in. You-"

"Mum.", she interrupted, her eyes hoping to wordlessly express the overwhelming state she was feeling, and how desperately she needed to get out of the house she was currently in. "Please. Let me take her to the recital."

Her mother understood; her eyes glazing over with a soft sort-of sorrow.

"Rose-"

"I haven't seen her in six months…", Rose pled. "Let us get out of the house for a little bit."

Hermione sighed; placing a warm hand on the cheek of her daughter. She left it there for a moment, looking into Rose's eyes with a kind of melancholic reverence.

"Well, you better tell her quickly-", she said, clearing her throat. "I don't think there's much time before the show starts. I'll go grab the tickets."

Rose gave her mother a grateful half-grin.

Her mother walked back into the kitchen; unknowingly leaving Rose and Scorpius saddled alone together for the first time with the weight of Rose's bold and vulnerable request between them.

She breathed in shakily, locking eyes with him. Her hand gripped the wooden railing separating the two.

His eyes were tired, but soft. He was looking at her with that unreadable emotion she often saw come across his features. It made her heart clench.

She opened her mouth to speak; unsure of what she would even say.

He shook his head lightly, his face alighting with a small, almost sad, smile.

"I've always wanted to go to the ballet…", he said; bringing his hand alongside hers on the wooden railing. Not touching, but Rose felt the gesture as if they were.

She let out a small, weak laugh; holding his gaze and praying he could read the gratefulness she felt towards him in that moment. He gave her a mirrored glance.

She was suddenly caught off guard by how grown he looked; in the silence of their slight confessions, his person had altered. He was somehow taller, bolder, more mature. She felt she was seeing him in a different light than she ever had before.

It made a deep well of longing begin to pool within her. It terrified her.

Startled by the sudden change; all she could do was nod as they both made their way up the stairs.

—

Jane's room was a startling mess of tulle and toys. The small girl was sat facing a mirror; her olive cheeks stained red with tear tracks. A pink leotard was worn backwards and a pair of tights had managed to only make it onto one leg. Her small hands were tangled in her mass of tiny, caramel curls; attempting to put it into some sort of updo.

Rose shook her head; her heart going out for her temperamental and very distraught sister. It reminded her so deeply of her own depth of feeling, that could have been her silently crying on the ground.

"Janie?", Rose called softly, knocking lightly on the open door as she stepped inside the tiny room.

Jane turned, her red-rimmed eyes alighting momentarily at the sight of her elder sister. Her bottom-lip quivered, turning back towards the mirror.

"Rose…", she sighed, wiping her eyes furiously.

Rose noticed the absence of her usual monicker, "Wose". Jane's voice sounded older, more pronounced. It made her a little bit sad, knowing her baby was growing up faster than she could realize. And she was missing it.

She sniffed again, "Did you hear about my dance?"

Her small voice was so pitiful, it almost made Rose laugh.

"I did… Mummy told me." Rose said, sitting next to her sister and beginning to unclip the mass of barrettes the young girl had thrown into her hair.

"I can't wait to see it tonight…", she whispered, smiling down at Jane.

Her eyes grew wide and her head whipped towards Rose; disbelief painted across her features.

"Would it be okay if Scorpius and I took you to the show?", she asked, looking back. He was leaning against the doorway; a soft look on his face. "I know you were hoping Mummy and Dad would, but it's been tough for them; with all they have to do before tomorrow."

Jane's lip trembled, looking from Rose to Scorpius.

"W-eally?", she whispered; the childish lilt of her voice returning.

Rose nodded, brushing a tiny curl back into place.

Jane jumped up; wrapping her tiny arms around Rose's neck. She let out a delighted scream.

"W-eally, w-eally, w-eally?", she continued to jump, up and down; the stray tight leg flopping next to her with every leap.

Rose laughed; a real laugh. "Really, really!"

"I get to dance!", the little girl screamed; her fingers curling in triumph. "I get to dance!"

She tore herself from Rose and ran across the room; barreling into Scorpius and squeezing around his middle.

"Thank-you, Scorpie! Thank-you!"

He blushed; patting her head tenderly. Rose bit back a laugh.

"Anytime, Janie…"

"You, Miss." Rose sighed with a smile, "Are hardly ready for a recital."

She motioned for Jane to come to her.

"Let's get this leotard on right-side out...and your hair up into something a little tamer.", Rose fluffed her sisters curls; now fully free from their tangles of accoutrement. "And maybe we can get a pair of tights on both legs…"

Jane giggled; kicking up the solitary limb encased in nylon. Her little body bounced with excitement.

"I get to dance…", she whispered; squeezing her eyes shut.

Rose helped free her leg, a joyful laugh escaping. "Do you think you're ready?"

Jane stopped bouncing. She opened her eyes; nodding fiercely. "I've been pw- I've been p-racticing!"

"Good!", Rose smiled.

Jane beamed; the fading tear stains making her look a bit crazed.

"I'll go grab the tickets from your mum and see where it is we're headed to.", Scorpius supplied from the doorway; giving her an amused quirk of his brow.

"We'll be down soon, thank-you.", Rose sighed; so eternally grateful for him, she didn't know if she could stand it.

"Will Scorpie see my dance?", Jane sighed, excitedly, while Rose charmed her curls into a tiny knot on the top of her head.

She laughed at Jane's enthusiasm.

"Yes. He's going to keep me company."

Jane sat for a moment; her fingers fluffing the ends of her tutu. "Daddy is a husband. Did you know that?"

"I did!", Rose giggled; producing two pink slippers from the trenches of Jane's closet.

"Is Scorpie your husband?", she continued; asking in earnest.

Rose barked out a laugh; slightly stunned by the question. "No! No, Janie. We're just friends…"

She wiggled the ballet slippers onto Jane's feet; getting her to stand.

"Can I tell you a secret?", Jane whispered; her large eyes finding Rose's.

Rose nodded; fighting a smile.

"I want him to be my husband!", she cackled; giving her big sister a devious grin.

Rose couldn't help but burst out laughing again. It felt good to laugh.

"Oh Janie!", she cried; kissing her cheeks and continuing to laugh. "I've missed you."

"Do you think he'll be mine if I say so?"

She continued to chuckled, shaking her head "I'm not sure, sweet pea. You could always ask him."

Jane considered this; while Rose applied the finishing touches to her show attire.

Footsteps came up the stairs again; Scorpius returned with the tickets and destination, just as promised.

"Now's your chance…", Rose whispered, nodding a head to her sister.

Jane's eyes bugged out of her head; her face turning bright red. She darted behind Rose; burying her face in the crook of her kneecap.

"I'm shy!", she cried; sending Rose into another round of hysterics.

Scorpius raised a brow, but smiled and said nothing.

Rose extracted her sister from behind her legs and took one last look at her.

"You look...exquisite. Give us a twirl."

Jane beamed again; spinning like a mad-woman around the room.

"Okay, okay!", she laughed; halting her sister. "Should we get this show on the road?"

Scorpius smiled, making a way for Jane to move down the stairs. "Let's rock-and-roll."

—-

"I don't mean to alarm you… But I think today might be your birthday…"

The mission to the recital had been less dramatic than Rose had initially anticipated. The whole thing was muggle. In an effort to connect Jane to her half-blood status (on both sides), Hermione made a point to have her participate in muggle traditions of every sort. Ballet included.

Rose was beyond relieved; realizing they'd have no issue of press or paparazzi's. No one would recognize them.

The only inconvenience was their inability to use magic; having to drive the family car half a mile to the local school where the show was taking place. Even then, Rose didn't mind. There was something so wonderfully average about the entire outing, she relished in its normalcy.

They had dropped Jane off; finding seats towards the back of the venue. They had even arrived a little early. Now, the main task was staying awake. It was the first time she had stopped moving in almost three days. Her entire body ached to lie down in a soft bed and forget the world for a few hours

Scorpius's voice came in. It was low; it sounded just as tired as she felt.

"I don't mean to alarm you… But I think today might be your birthday…"

Held in his outstretched palm was his copy of the pamphlet they had been given upon entering the auditorium. Sure enough, typed in bold script at the top:

Mayfaire Dance Academy; Summer Showcase

May 19th, 2030

May 19th…

She closed her eyes, bringing an open palm to her forehead. She had forgotten her own birthday

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…", she sighed, quietly; almost too tired to even care. It wasn't as if birthdays were of a particular significance to her, but she was usually aware that the day in question was upon her. She chalked it up to the 8-hour time change with the portkey, but if she was being truthful she hadn't given it a second thought even before then.

Scorpius winced, "I'm sorry, Al and I should have-"

"-This is hardly the time to be sorry about missing my birthday…", she sighed, looking at him with placation. "We've had other... things going on."

They were quiet. Scorpius's mouth twisted, his eyes calibrating her exterior with concern.

"Are you okay? Sorry-" He started, "That's a stupid question to ask…"

He shook his head, his fingers balling into an anxious fist near his knee.

"Can I do anything? Do you need anything?"

She felt her heart give; unable to understand the tender care he was able to bestow upon her, regardless of everything that had transpired between them.

Are you kidding me? She wanted to say. I rejected your ardent confession of affection, and then silently begged you to stay with me. I can't decide whether I want kiss you for hours or run screaming. You're at a dance recital for a child instead of resting at home… You have no idea what you're doing for me right now.

"I don't need anything else…", she managed to choke out; giving him a look she hoped conveyed the words she was too cowardly to say.

He nodded; matching her gaze. There was a subtle intensity; the breath of a conversation happening beneath the surface. She was the first to break eye-contact; clearing her throat and looking towards the empty stage.

"Should we at least get you a cake?", she heard him say; an obvious shift in tone.

"Please, no-"

"Strawberry lemon?", he lilted; his voice holding a slight tease. Strawberry lemon was her favorite cake. She had it every year. He knew that.

"That's not fair…", she gave him an eye; fighting a smile.

"Come on.", he leaned into the auditorium seat, his neck resting against the wood back. His eyes were closed "Let's pretend…"

"Pretend?" She tried not to think about how his voice had gone sort of quiet; on the verge of a beg. She tried not to think about how much she liked it.

He sighed "Let's pretend the last three days never happened…", he stopped, his eyebrows raising. "Actually-"

"How about the last three months never happened?", she finished; without thinking. If only...

His eyes opened; testing her reaction. He gave her a surprised grin.

"Okay. It's gone." His eyes closed again; the tease returning to his cadence."What's your birthday like?"

She joined him in his lounging, trying to find a comfortable position in the squeaky seat.

"I take a sleeping draught.", she smarted; eyes gazing towards the ceiling. "And I don't wake up until Christmas."

"Count me in.", he laughed, freely. Merlin, she liked his laugh.

Rose cleared her throat; trying to keep from doing something embarrassing. "Then we can wake up and think about your birthday."

He grinned "Double celebration."

"No", she laughed; shaking her head. "My gift was catching up on sleep."

"And mine?", He turned to look at her. She did not miss the slight sparkle in his eyes. It was a shine she had not seen in quite some time.

"You're there to keep me company.", she sighed, aware of the simmering context beneath her words.

Scorpius nodded, a smile playing on his lips.

"Got it.", he murmured.

"Good.", she half-whispered back.

They shared another look; a look Rose felt right beneath her rib-cage:

Something about it said the words was she was too afraid to hear. Something about her gaze told him the words she was too afraid to say. Neither of them felt an urgency to call attention to it.

"Humor me, Rose." He turned his gaze again towards the ceiling. "Let's plan your birthday. Dream birthday."

Rose. He had called her 'Rose'.

"You're such a whimsical lad, you know that?", she teased, allowing a warmth to move through her. "Did you have imaginary friends when you were growing up?"

He narrowed his eyes, leaning in towards her "Did you?"

"I asked you first.", she smiled, shaking her head.

"Of course not. You know my father.", he said; almost laughing. "I learned to dream when I got older…"

Rose snorted; surprised by his sincerity. "Oh, that's kind of beautiful…"

"Hmm…"

"Fine. Dream birthday.", she started; sensing an impatience in his tone. "Dinner. Drinks. Dancing."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Boring."

"I'm a bore!", she laughed.

He gave her another look; one he did not have a chance to hide. It clearly read: You are far from a bore and we both know it.

He cleared his throat. "Dinner where?"

Anywhere with you. Her brain responded for her.

"Somewhere I've never been before…", she rattled off before her silly brain started speaking. "Somewhere...where I can't even read the menu. Everyone orders blindly and lets fate deal their hand. No picky eaters invited."

Scorpius smiled, slightly devious. "Sorry, Al."

Rose chuckled; thinking of Albus's deliberate aversion for anything tasting remotely avantgarde. "He can sit in a corner and serenade us."

Scorpius nodded; bringing a hand to his face. "Dancing anyplace in particular?"

Rose tried not to be distracted as his thumb absently traced the edge of his lip. Merlin, she was pathetic.

"You know me…", she murmured; shrugging, "I'll dance anywhere."

"True.", he chuckled "Dancing Queen."

She wrinkled her nose; her mind flashing back to early days of rambunctious partying. "My song."

"Young and... sweet?", he joked, coyly.

"No longer 17…", she sighed, absently. "But, I think I'm alright with that."

He cleared his throat; "Were you always a dancer? Up on stage doing pirouettes, like Jane?"

He nodded his head towards the navy curtains.

"Absolutely not…I was terrified to have anyone notice me!", she cried; shaking her head vigorously.

"I learned to dance when I got older…", she cheeked, mimicking his earlier sentiment.

He smirked. "Hmm…"

Oh holy hell. Something about the way he was looking at her; that bloody smirk on his face, made her blush so furiously she didn't know what to do.

She busied herself; looking down at the now-wrinkled program in her hand.

"I can't believe I forgot my own birthday…", she said; her eye catching the date again.

He chuckled, giving her a wary look.

"I can't believe you'd prefer to do something as banal as drinks and dancing on your birthday.", he teased; raising a brow.

"Ass." Her lips pursed; hiding a smile. "You have a better idea?"

"For your birthday?"

"Yes.", she yawned; wiggling again to try and find a comfortable position in the decidedly uncomfortable seats. "Plan my birthday, while I try not to fall asleep."

"You can sleep if you need to.", he said quietly; cocking his head to the side. "I promise I won't let you miss your sister tap-dancing."

She wished she hadn't turned in that moment; finding his earnest gaze a little too much to handle.

"I'm not going to make you sit through a children's dance recital by yourself.", She nudged. "I'm not that cruel."

Cruel. Her voice caught on the final word; bringing her thoughts back to their blustery confessions on the beach. She thought of his eyes; searching and pleading. Maybe she was that cruel.

"For your birthday…", he ruminated; bringing her out of her thoughts. His hand was back to his chin, somewhat lost in thought. "New York. Maybe a museum or two. Enough time to get lost somewhere that strikes your fancy… Then tickets to see either…"

He turned to her; narrowing his eyes as if to size her up.

"The Pixies Cornish or maybe Etta Erkling…"

Rose laughed; "Very nostalgic."

He nodded; obviously pleased with his choice in artist.

"And then a portkey to La Magie.", his voice became low again; a hair above a bashful tone. "Basile's obviously done up the place. All your friends and family are there…"

Scorpius's voice trailed off; his eyes lowering. Rose tried to fight the wave of sentimentality that followed his careful description.

"Sounds like a dream…", she mused; her eyes focusing again on the pamphlet in front of her.

A weighty silence sat between them. It doesn't have to be a dream, it said.

Everything, from the moment she had broken down and helplessly reached for his hand back at her mother's house, had been encroaching on a decidedly dangerous place for the two of them.

It was too easy, too beautiful. As they sat together, sleepily trekking through the beginnings of a ballet performance and shifting in uncomfortable chairs, the pomp of their connection was stripped bare.

He was not famous, she was not responsible. There was no girlfriend, no band mates, no record label, no family, no cameras...just them; talking and laughing.

And it was the happiest she had felt in ages.

"For your birthday…", the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Because we've been in our seven month coma.", he nodded; unaware of the boldness of her statement.

"Exactly.", she laughed; a cover for her nerves. "I think I'd plan something very refined."

She felt pride at the slight flush in his cheeks. Rose mused; trying to place her friend in a location she knew she'd find him smiling.

"Something where you can wear a really nice suit…You look great in a suit-", she let slip. "Maybe the Berlin Symphony…"

She looked back to him; gauging her assessment of his celebratory desires. His brow was arched with impress. Were the tips of his ears pink as well?

"Or we'd go to Japan!", she gasped suddenly, her eyes alighting. "Whiskey tasting at a Qilin distillery…"

"Trying to get me drunk?", he teased; moving slightly forward.

Was he flirting with her?

"I think you're a fancy-boy at heart.", she chuckled; ignoring a slight flare in heartbeat. "You can't outrun your Malfoy sensibilities."

He lowered his voice; taking on an effectively posh tone. "Darling…"

Oh, he was definitely flirting with her.

Rose giggled; quite outside of her control. Being openly flirtatious was new territory for them.

"And then a parfait for dessert. Of course.", she said, rolling her eyes. "Somehow I'll stick 26 candles into it."

"It's perfect.", he sighed; his grin practically cheese-grating her heart. "I love my faux birthday."

"I love my faux birthday.", she matched, quietly.

Scorpius let out a deep yawn; the true level of his exhaust coming to the surface.

"You can't fall asleep!", Rose said, smacking his shoulder. "I'll never forgive myself if I miss Jane dancing."

"What happened to not letting me sit through this by myself?", he chuckled; running a hand against the rough stubble of his cheeks.

"That was five minutes ago.", she smirked; catching his yawn and stretching slightly. "I was more energized then."

He snorted, "Same for me. Offer's gone now. I'm taking a nap."

She opened her mouth in jest; and wiggled back down into her previously lounging position.

"Not if I fall asleep first.", she quipped, poking a tongue out and closing her eyes.

"Saboteur.", she heard him gravel; his head resting again against the wood of the auditorium seat.

Something about the exchange she found incredibly funny; worthy of biting back a giggle or two. After a moment, Rose heard an overdramatic snore come from his side

"Oh, you shit.", she cackled

She caught him grinning; his eyes still closed. "Don't swear, we're in a church."

"We're in a primary school.", she sighed; her voice filled with mock exasperation.

They were silent again. Rose took to resting her head against an outstretched palm. She could hear Scorpius shifting beside her.

"Don't read into this-", he said, cooly.

"Read into-?" She looked back to him. He had removed his knit jumper; carefully folding it so it propped between the two of them. He made a motion with his head, one beckoning her to rest against the makeshift pillow.

Another bold move. It seemed this evening was filled with them.

"I happen to have a very comfortable shoulder.", he teased; his jovial tone masking a slight trepidation behind his eyes.

She smirked, leaning her head down to perch lightly against the knit cushion. It was more comfortable. No- comfortable wasn't the right word. Perfect, transcendent, euphoric. Those were much better words.

"Not reading… Just sleeping…", she mumbled.

Her eyes closed; his scent wrapping her up in daydream. She attributed her lowered guard to her state of exhaustion. If she was in her right mind, she wouldn't be so overwhelmed by the vein of physical closeness they were currently experiencing.

They were silent again, both simply breathing in the intimacy of the moment. She felt her heartbeat slow; feeling an anxious weight she had been carrying begin to lift. Her exhaustion applied, lulling her into a trance-like state. She felt his head drop, coming to rest on her frazzled, auburn curls.

This passed for a time or two more. For a moment, she thought he may have fallen into actual sleep. She heard him say something; pulling her out of her drowsy cocoon.

"Your family-"

"-hmm?"

He was thoughtful, as if their silent interlude had brought out the words he wanted to say.

"They're… They're just filled with love. She could feel him sigh against her. "I hope you know that."

She was quiet, taking in his words. The mention of her family made her tense. She didn't want to think about the chaos that they had only narrowly avoided, or the dreaded proceedings that were taking place the following afternoon.

"I just think about how it was when my grandad passed…", he continued. "No one cried, or wanted to look at pictures. It was so silent."

Rose let his words settle. Her relationship to death was so complicated, she sometimes forgot it was something others had experienced as well. Would she rather the silence? Would she rather no one spoke of the beloved that had passed?

"My family is quite the opposite of quiet.", she mumbled; unwittingly adjusting herself against his shoulder. It was a move one might interpret as a cuddle. Fortunately, Scorpius didn't seem phased.

"I could tell you were losing it; back at the house.", he admitted.

"Was it that obvious?", she sighed, brought fully back to the reality of their evening.

"Hmm…", he thought. She could hear an apprehension in his voice. "I'm going to out myself as an apt observer of your moods…"

She looked towards him, his eyes were warm. "You think you can read me so easily?"

"I should.", he laughed. "I've known you for almost a decade."

Rose narrowed her eyes, as if to search for the truth behind his claim. It wasn't as if she thought he was lying, she just didn't believe she was someone who wore her thoughts on her face.

"I can't read your mind.", he said, his eyes shifting down at her. "But I can usually guess when you're fine, versus when you're about to have a full-fledged mental breakdown."

She nodded; laughing a bit to herself.

"I find you exhaustingly unreadable.", she breathed; realizing the truth in her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. He was so unreadable to her.

"Exhaustingly?", he seemed slightly charmed by the abrupt nature of her confession.

She laughed, "It's tiresome."

Rose moved, sitting back up from her barely-nap and cracking her neck lightly. She looked at him again; putting pains to confirm her inability to understand his emotional inner workings.

"Well, I'm sorry.", he sighed with a chuckle. "It's never my intent to exhaust you."

Exhaust you. How she wished she hadn't chosen that exact moment to try and read what was going on beneath his silvery orbs. It was very clear where his mind went upon uttering the seemingly innocent words.

She knew, because her mind; her silly, sleepy, punched-out mind went to the exact same place. Their eyes darted from one another. Rose was suddenly very aware of much she wouldn't mind being exhausted by him in a... certain way.

She coughed; hoping the sinister thoughts that were now rampaging through her mind had not manifested in a swatch of color painted across her cheeks. Maybe he wasn't so difficult for her to read… Maybe it was her own willful indifference that chose to be perplexed by him. Look at where probing his mind had gotten her tonight...

Thankfully, mercifully, the lights in the auditorium went down and the mingling crowd slowly drifted into anticipatory silence.

"Oh my, the show is starting.", she heard him whisper.

A woman walked onto the stage -Rose assumed it was a director of some sorts- spouting affirmations of all the parents and students who had worked hard to make this show possible. With the lights low, and the woman's particular drone, she found it particularly difficult to pay attention.

She looked down at her program, searching for Jane's name amongst the crowded text. Her eyes drifted, becoming distracted by the curve of his hands against the darkened auditorium seat. Her mind wandered; the ease of their conversation unlocking a certain alcove of memories she was normally constantly attempting to keep at bay. There had always been something particularly enticing about his hands. They were large, with long fingers; the tips of which were slightly calloused from years of deftly sliding along guitar strings.

She would often find her gaze drawn to those hands; finding them an endearing target of admiration due to the ease with which she could go unnoticed. Most of the time, she didn't realize she had been staring, until something else caught her attention. Like the night at La Magie...

It would jar her; making her insides slightly unsettled. She would chalk the unconscious obsession up to a natural physical response; something she couldn't avoid, even if she tried.

But now; in the dimness, with her inhibitions lowered and the strange territory they had begun to encroach on, she found herself slightly mesmerized by the benign alabaster palm curved away from her.

She now knew the feel of those hands. The calloused tips had traced the curve of her jaw. The flat expanse of his palms had gripped her waist. And she had adored it. She allowed her body to trickle with feeling; indulging, for a moment, in the memory of the evening prior.

She wondered if he was thinking of it too. Of their mingled lips and desperate sighs. Exhaust you. It made her cheeks warm. It made her chest constrict. It made a tender sort of electricity ache through her. It made her feel a little out of control.

They were sitting so close, their knees only a slight breath away from leaning against one another. Her mind wandered further; indulging in a slight thought. What if she rested her hand on his outstretched knee? Would he move away? Would he look at her with disdainful confusion?

Or would he slide his palm against hers; allowing their fingers to silently wrap around one another? Would it be as easy as that? She was having trouble reminding herself what was so intently keeping her from him.

Tiny dancers began to trot on stage; the off-key plink of the piano signaling their small leaps and plie's. The first group, younger than Jane, were a sight to behold. Parents whipped out phones and video cameras; capturing the juvenile performance with ooh's and aww's. Occasionally, a dancer of two would lose focus, drifting to search for familiar faces in the audience.

Rose found herself laughing along with the enraptured adults. There was something so small and precious about this moment. She looked up, finding Scorpius enamored as well. He was breaking out into laughs with her. Their complicated world felt so far away.

The next group came on stage- Jane's class. Rose and Scorpius whooped and hollered along with the rest of the families as the little dancers took their beginning positions. Jane was beaming; her little body trembling with excitement.

Scorpius leaned down; whispering to Rose, "I particularly like the lad with no hands…"

She turned to where his eyes were pointed; a young boy whose jacket was at least two sizes too big for him was perched in first position, the sleeves of which were well past his fingertips.

Rose covered her mouth, stifling a riotous laugh. He looked too pleased at her amused response.

She elbowed him fiercely; leaning in to whisper back, "Do not make me lose it. I will end you."

He bit his lip and nodded, looking back at the stage.

The dance started; triggering the army of videographers to begin filming again. The performance was adorable; this group tackling roughly the same steps as the dance prior. This time, with higher leaps and a spin or two added.

"Thank-merlin they aren't performing Pirates of Penzance…", she felt him whisper in her ear. Again, in reference to the poor boy flopping about without a hand to be seen.

She whipped her head towards him; her expression of mock-rage only aiding in the heat of their recent exchange. She couldn't help it. She burst into laughter; thankfully muffling the sound with the sleeves of her sweater.

That was all it took for both of their resolves to be completely shot. The remainder of the show; intermission included, was punctuated by attempts in making the other dissolve into hysterics. It was their old way of communicating, but this time with an added warmth -an added sincerity.

They might have been shushed a few times by a weary dance patron, and caused more of a disturbance that they had initially intended to, but somehow they didn't care. On more than one occasion, her arm had leaned into his and stayed there; melting into one another for a moment. And, on more than one occasion, their eyes had met. Both of them leaning into the emotional undercurrent of their present circumstances; the laughter unlocking secret words she held on the tip of her tongue.

The show ended and they went to go retrieve Jane. She was bubbling over; her body bouncing so wildly Rose wondered how she managed to stay so composed on stage.

"You were wonderful!", she cried; scooping her sister up and swinging her round.

"I didn't even mess up!", shouted Jane; her volume stirring a tremor of laughter from those around her.

Rose kissed Jane on the cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

Jane twisted in Rose's arms, leaning towards the blonde boy beside her.

"Did you like my dance, Scorpie?", she crooned, blinking her long lashes at him.

"Like it?", he cried, in mock-affect, "You're a star, Janie."

She blushed; dropping her head onto Rose's chest. "W-eally?"

He reached behind him, "In fact…"

A moment later, a large bundle of flowers was procured and handed to Jane.

"I think a performance that good deserves a bouquet…", he gave Rose a slight wink. She tried not to completely fall into a puddle of adoration.

Jane gasped; her tiny arms barely wrapping around the expanse of the arrangement.

"Thank-you…", she whispered; looking at the handsome, older boy with awe.

Same, Janie. Rose thought to herself, as she mouthed a quick thank-you to Scorpius. Same.

"Bye Brie! Bye Annie! Bye Will… Bye Miss Otani!" Jane shouted as they walked down the steps leading out of the auditorium.

"Bye Charlotte, Bye Paige!", she continued, her hands waving furiously as the trio made their way through the small crowd of families. "Bye Maya! Bye Mia-"

"You have so many friends!", Rose laughed; watching her little sister have something to say to practically everyone who walked by.

Jane just beamed up at her; catching the eye of another little dancer who was leaving.

"Bye Jane!", the girl cried, giving her a hug.

"Bye Jane!!", her sister giggled, squeezing her back.

"We're both named Jane!", she squealed, looking at Rose as if to say, Can you believe it? "She's Jane S. and I'm Jane T."

Rose almost died from how charming it was, "How incredible…"

Jane looked back at her friend; her eyes large and inquisitive. "Is your Gran dead too, Jane?"

Rose widened her ow. eyes; making slightly startled eye-contact with the parents of Jane S.

Jane S. furrowed her brow, "Not my Granny. But my Nana died a long time ago. I think when I was three..."

"My Gran died yesterday.", said Jane, simply; as if one was stating a fact about the color of the sky, or the day of the week. "Rose's Gran is dead too. We have the same Gran."

The parent of Jane S. gave Rose a surprised, but sympathetic look.

"I'm her sister…", Rose reasoned, awkwardly; giving Scorpius a covertly pained look.

They murmured pleasantries and exchanged names. Rose was a little stunned by the cavalier nature of Jane's explanations. In a way it was calming. The exuberant spirit of her young sister was` handling the passing of her beloved Gran with a simplicity and curiosity Rose admired.

Granted, Rose and Jane were different people and the loss of a father was arguably more drastic than a grandparent dying. However, watching this child be able to experience boundless joy while in the midst of grief, was a strangely cathartic moment for Rose.

Jane waved a final goodbye to her name-twin after a fair amount of swapping other things in their lives that had died as well; dogs, birds, uncles, etc.

The air was crisp outside. Not cold enough to warrant any thermal outerwear, but chilly enough to make Rose clutch her sweater a little tighter to her chest.

They walked the length of the parking lot in silence; Jane twirling and leaping in front of them. She was humming to herself, lost in her own little world. It made Rose smile.

It felt good to stretch her legs. It felt better to walk next to the tall boy ambling to her left. It felt even better to occasionally bump into him; the warm contact alighting her insides momentarily.

Jane paused suddenly, turning to her temporary guardians with question.

"Are we going home now?"

Rose tensed. Yes, but I really don't want to. The blissful few hours she had spent cocooned in the innocent fantasy world of her and Scorpius, was coming to an end.

"Yes, I-"

"-I think…", Scorpius cut in; moving closer to Rose. "We can't possibly go home yet…"

She gave him a quizzical stare.

"-Until we've had something to celebrate such an incredible performance…"

Jane's eyes lit up, "Yes?"

Scorpius gave Rose a quick look. "I was thinking… ice cream?"

Jane squealed, launching herself towards Scorpius and hugging his leg.

"Ice cream, Ice c-weam!", she screamed; her joy incomprehensible.

Rose looked at her friend; her turning heart coming to a fullness that scared her.

"Scorpie, I love you!", Jane continued to cheer, "I love you!"

Same, Janie, Rose lamented; unable to hide from herself in the moment. Same.

—

The house was quiet when they walked in. The warmth of the fireplace curled around the bundled trio. Rose felt a grateful twinge towards her mother.

They had stayed out late; allowing Jane to go wild at the ice cream parlor. Once they had practically closed down the creamery, they simply drove around the surrounding neighborhood. They listened to songs, told stories and wondered about the lives of people living in the brick homes, as her little sister drifted to sleep in the back seat. It was quietly peaceful. He knew she didn't want to go back to the familial madness, so he found new routes to take, new songs to play, new stories to tell… Until it was time to go back home.

Jane stirred slightly in her arms at the close of the door. A soft light could be seen from the expanse of the darkened entryway. Rose assumed it was the flicker from the lit hearth, but as she walked further she came upon a small cake dancing with enchanted candles.

For a moment, she feared she would soon be overwhelmed by members of her family shouting "surprise" at her and throwing confetti her way.

Luckily, it seemed whoever had put together the birthday accoutrement was less inclined in terms of celebration. She shifted Jane in her arms; letting out a light breath of relief.

Scorpius was behind her. She turned; her voice laced with suspicion.

"Did you-?"

He held his hands up; softly laughing, "I didn't. I swear… This was all Weasley."

The candles continued to dance, spelling out words in a lazy, looping pattern.

"We… Are… Sorry…", Rose read; quietly in time to the shifting message. "We… Forgot…"

She snorted, shaking her head. "They're so ridiculous."

"Happy… Birthday… Rose.", Scorpius finished; chuckling down at the cake.

Rose shifted Jane in her arms again. Admittedly, the tiny dancer was getting pretty heavy. Carrying a sleeping six-year-old around; even one as slight as Jane, was no easy feat.

"Here", Scorpius said; deftly scooping Jane out of her grasp. "Let me take her."

Jane stirred for a moment on the transfer; lifting her eyes sleepily and croaking, "Scorpie…"

She then let her head fall on his shoulder, encircling her arms around his neck and sighing back to sleep.

"She's in love…", Rose whispered; laughing lightly.

He held her gaze for a moment; the light from the swirling candles causing a warm glow to curve off the shadows of his cheekbones. Rose felt herself breathe a deep breath. He looked so handsome.

This time, it was him who broke eye-contact first. He looked down at the cake; noticing a propped bit of paper adjacent to it.

"Someone's written you a card…"

She grabbed the parchment; a thicker rectangle falling out of it.

"We realized as soon as Aunt 'Mione looked at the calendar. I guess now we're even...

I found this going through the photos and I thought you'd want to have it.

XO Lily

p.s. Not much has changed. Just remember that."

Rose furrowed her brow; a bit perplexed by Lily's slightly cryptic words in her post script.

She grabbed the thicker rectangle; flipping it over to reveal a moving picture made up of three very familiar faces.

She brought a hand to her mouth, "Oh.."

Held in her grasp were the beaming faces of she, Albus and Scorpius. Younger, sillier and with admittedly more terrible hair. They were clinging onto one another; seemingly caught in the middle of immense amusement.

The three of them swayed slightly; laughing at whatever the person behind the camera was instructing them to do. Rose in the middle; the boys plastered on either side of her.

She was shaking her head; her eyes narrowing with mirth. She then turned; whispering something into Scorpius's ear. He laughed, his movement bending the trio forward.

"Actual children…", Scorpius sighed; coming in behind her to look at the photo. "I can't believe you ever let Al have an eyebrow piercing."

Rose shook her head; her eyes dancing over the photograph with a strange mixture of sweetness and sorrow.

"We must have been barely graduated…", she said; flipping the photo over to search for the date.

"My hair is at its peak in terms of achieved volume.", Scorpius teased, "So I'd venture to guess you're about right."

She flipped the photo back; the image timing to the moment where Rose whispered something into Scorpius's ear.

"What do you think I'm saying to you?", she mused; watching them barrel over with laughter again.

Scorpius was quiet; his eyes half-lidded. "Is it pathetic that I remember exactly what you said to me?"

"You do not.", she countered; her eyes narrowing.

"I do…", he said nodding guiltily, "I remember this moment very clearly…"

"I don't remember exactly who was taking the photo, but they were saying something along the lines of 'look nice' or 'pretend like you like each other.'... Or something similar. And you said to me 'Let's give Al the finger'"

Rose gasped; her eyes alighting in slight horror.

"I did not."

"You did. I swear!", he smirked. "Watch it again."

They watched it through together; Rose taking pains to watch the whisperings of her profile. Sure enough, a clear outline of her mouth whispered the devious machinations into Scorpius's ear.

"Oh, what a little brat!", she cried; making sure to keep her volume low enough to not disturb Jane or the household at large.

Scorpius chuckled; a deep, earthy laugh direct from his center. It travelled all the way up to his eyes; leaving Rose momentarily distracted.

"Are you joking? Far from a brat. I bet Al absolutely deserved it…"

She smiled, watching the scene play over again. There was a brief capture that kept catching her eye. It was the split second before they dissolved into laughter, once Rose had pulled away from her whisperings.

In the photo, they looked at each other for a moment; a moment so small, it could have been missed. But she didn't miss it. In fact, it was clearer and more relevant to her than ever before. It was a look of pure, unadulterated affection.

Not much has changed. Just remember that.

She found her fingers tracing the outline of their two juvenile forms; resting almost tenderly against the frame of her young, blonde counterpart. If she had been wrestling a growing depth of feeling the entire evening; this here was the penultimate moment.

"No wonder everyone thought we were dating…", she whispered; aware of what an unflinching statement she was bringing between the two of them.

He was silent; firmly watching the scene play out as well. They stared together; watching younger versions of themselves caught in a forever loop of carefully calibrated adoration.

"It's a little obvious in this display, isn't it?", he smirked.

She felt the two of them transported to a precipice. One they had been on the verge of careening down before. They had been on this precipice the night of the party. They'd been on it last night, on the beach. It was one she had ran from; one she had been so terrified to even look down.

However, something had shifted within her. She felt bolder, more determined in the flickering candlelight.

She looked down at the table; steeling her nerves enough to say the words she needed to say.

"I'm- I'm so-", she choked; the cake comically choosing that moment to read the word 'Sorry."

She was so sorry.

She looked up; her eyes begging him to read her, see through her, like he always did. His face was soft. His eyes were hopeful; his mouth twisting into the hint of a smile.

"Hey…", he said, his free hand grabbing lightly at the skin on her wrist. "You're the one who loves me, remember?"

Oh, she could have kissed him. She wanted to kiss him. Why wasn't she kissing him?

She looked back down; now embarrassed in a divine sort of way.

"You want to raid my mum's liquor cabinet and help me eat this cake?", she whispered; her eyes welling with feeling. "I kind of feel like celebrating."

"Nothing in the world would make me happier…"

—-

Her mum, the refined woman she was, had little in terms of alcohol that ranged higher than a Pinot Nior.

It didn't matter. She grabbed two bottles from the farthest reaches; ones she imagined had been purchased for a book club or a luncheon and hadn't been touched since; and scooped the still-lit cake into an open hand.

She liked the shifting shapes it made, and the way it illuminated the stairway as they made their trek to Jane's room.

They managed to place her into bed; removing her slippers and covering her up without waking her.

"Oh, to be six…", she sighed; softly whispering to Scorpius in the doorway. "And fall asleep at an ice cream parlor, and have someone carry you home and tuck you into bed."

"She's the luckiest girl in the world…", he teased back, grinning down at her.

The door to her own bedroom was ajar; a soft light spilling out from it.

It felt strange to be inside the small space; the angled ceiling and twin bed feeling strikingly tiny in comparison to what she recalled.

"You know, I've never been in here before…"

She turned. Scorpius was leaning against the doorway; his large frame a stark contrast to the cramped feeling of the childhood bedroom,

"Never?"

He shook his head; a devious smirk on his face. There was that look, again. The one she felt right beneath her ribcage. She fought back a blush; raising a brow instead.

"Well…", she crooned; widening her arms. "Would you like the grand tour?"

He rolled his eyes ever so subtly. "Would I ever?"

He stepped in past the doorway; hands in his pockets. "It's been a real dream of mine to peruse the poster-covered sanctuary that is...was your teenage bedroom."

She wrinkled her nose, "Don't be an ass, Malfoy. This is a real privilege."

A palm came to his chest, "Oh, the last name comes out."

"Shut it.", She fought a smile; taking a moment to admire how the low light of the room aided in pronouncing the angled curve of his jawbone. "Do you want the tour or not?"

He bit his lip; leaning against a mirrored dresser. "Please. Give me the tour."

She cleared her throat; moving a total of two steps to her left.

"Here is my bed…", she began; sweeping over the patchwork quilt with flare. "I did a lot of rage-filled screaming into this very pillow when I was younger."

She moved to a shelf, housing a startling mess of books, records and various pieces of nondescript papers.

"Here is my bookshelf..", she giggled; almost tripping over the carpet. "Don't go looking for anything in here...you may not come out alive."

He chuckled; watching her with tender amusement. It made her insides feel molten.

"What you're so casually leaning against, is my dresser…", she moved; plopping herself down on the rug situated in the center of the room. "I keep things like...shirts-"

She paused; grabbing a bottle and beginning to uncork it. "- and undergarments in there."

That got a laugh out of him; also possibly the faintest hint of a blush…

"And here-", she motioned, finally freeing the aforementioned cork from its holder "-is my rug. Where we will sit and drink wine out of coffee cups and eat cake and… try not to think about the fact that we're going to a funeral tomorrow…"

He moved to sit down as well; registering the macabre ending of her monologue with a twist of his mouth and a knowing look behind his eyes.

She poured the wine into the two mugs she had quickly swiped from the kitchen. Hers read "I Got Inked At Flourish & Blotts", his read "Witchy Woman".

They clinked their inscribed ceramics together; both taking generous sips from the cups in question.

After a moment, Scorpius turned; his gaze registering on a large case partially hidden in the corner of the room.

"What's that?", he quipped; a devious look on his face. "I don't recall that being part of your grand tour…"

Rose groaned. "That- Is none of your business."

His eyes lit up; launching for the large case.

"No, please don't-", she started; pressing a palm to her warmed cheeks.

"It's a guitar…", he said slowly, giving her a perplexed little grin.

She scrunched her face; taking another generous sip of wine. "You are correct."

His eyes narrowed, "You don't play guitar…"

"You are even more correct."

"Why do you have a guitar?", he challenged; his eyes shining in the candlelight.

She bit her lip. "Like I said before. None of your business."

"No, no, no…", he delighted; moving back down on the rug. Now, conveniently closer to her. "You've got a guitar and you don't play guitar… There's a reason."

She rolled her eyes; taking another sip from her mug. "I'm not telling!"

He clasped his hands together; his eyes drooped into soft puppy-dog affect. "Please."

It was honestly pathetic how little convincing it took once his eyes were on her like that.

"Maybe…", she started; beginning to feel the buzzy effects of the alcohol. "Maybe, I was mad someone told me I never contributed anything to the band and I attempted to learn just to prove him wrong…"

"Who told you that?", he cried.

She gave him an obvious look; nodding her head in his direction.

"I told you that?", He was horrified.

She cackled; enjoying the drainage of color that came over his face. "Yes. Back when we were first starting."

He shook his head; downing another large gulp from his glass in the process. "I'm so sorry."

She patted his cheek; her inhibitions lowered. "I forgive you."

"Did you ever learn?", he cleared his throat; drinking more wine.

"Of course not!", she laughed. "I learned one song and gave up. My fingers refused to callous."

He nodded, his silver eyes sparkling. "So, you tried learning guitar, just to spite me?"

"Hmm…", she mused; taking another sip and feeling bold. "Maybe more to impress you?"

A flush of his cheeks. If someone told her he'd ever be stretched out on her bedroom floor; looking at her in the way he was, she'd have thought they were crazy.

"Will you play it for me?"

"-play what?"

His finger traced the rim of his mug. "The one song you learned."

"Absolutely not.", she cried; laughing. "I just admitted a treacherous secret about our past. I'm not going to embarrass myself and out my nonexistent skills as a musician."

He pursed his lips; eyeing her in an admittedly disarming way.

"I'll tell you a secret…", he offered, daringly.

She felt a thrill run through her. Oh, that's a dangerous game to play, Scorpius Malfoy.

"This is not a bartering system.", she grinned; relishing in the warmth now pooling beneath her rib cage.

He was earnest. "Half the music in my library is because of your suggestions. You have unquestionable taste in music."

She shook her head; hiding a flush of feeling. She leaned back; propping herself against the side of her bed.

"That's not a secret, that's a fact.", she teased, biting her lip.

"Fine…", he sighed; leaning against the bed as well; their arms flush against one another. "What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything…"

A very, very dangerous game to play, Scorpius Malfoy. She thought, her mind dancing with possibilities.

"Hmmm…", she mused; her buzzy brain drifting through a myriad of less-than-appropriate possibilities. She settled for the least daring.

"When, where and with whom did you lose your virginity to?"

"Ha!", he cackled; surprised and pleased by her question. She did not miss the way he leaned into her slightly; their movements aided by the wine. "Do you not know this? I thought for sure we'd have talked about it by now."

She shook her head; her grin devious.

"Wendy Albern. Summer after 5th year.", he cringed, slightly. "My...bedroom?"

"Ack, Wendy? She's awful.", cried Rose; wrinkling her nose.

"And she was!", he laughed; finishing his mug. "But, like most sixteen year olds, I had ground-level standards."

She laughed again, bringing her knees to her chest and finishing off her drink as well. She felt so pleasantly warm; it made her almost want to sing.

"Yours?", she heard him ask over the swell of her intrepid thoughts.

"I thought we were bartering secrets.", she quipped; nudging him slightly. "Now we're even!"

"Humor me.", he groaned. Oh Merlin, he was not allowed to look at her like that.

She cringed; her mind flitting to the act in question. "Summer after 6th year. My grandparents guest bedroom. An Australian boy named Dean."

"Last name?", he questioned, raising a brow.

She looked up to the ceiling. "Never got it…"

"Rose Weasley!", he whispered in mock horror.

"Come on. We were both completely bonkers when we were younger.", she laughed; smacking his outstretched knee. "Shagging someone who's last name I never knew is the least salacious thing I've managed to do."

He smirked; giving her a deliriously devious grin "True."

They stared at each other for a moment. Rose let her hand fall lightly beside him.

"Who would have thought we'd end up spending our evenings at ballet recitals and ice cream parlors.", she said; gently dropping her eyes.

She heard him chuckle. When she looked back up, he was giving her that look again.

"Play me the song.", he commanded.

She shook her head; her rosy cheeks deepening in color "You'll need to get me drunker."

"Hmm.", he mused; leaning forward and stretching out on the rug they were seated on.

Rose felt herself wholly possessed by the slight bit of abdomen that she could see, exposed beneath his t-shirt.

The warmth from the light of the candles and the wonderfully smoldering effect of the alcohol were beginning to take their hold. She ran a hand through her hair; freeing it from the constraints of the elastic.

"Do you feel like eating cake?", she asked; her volume of curls falling around her.

"Do you?", he looked up; his eyes glinting slightly. She caught the way his gaze roamed her features.

"I'm not very hungry…" she whispered.

"Me either."

She stretched as well; lying on the rug opposite him. She fanned out the auburn tendrils; stretching her legs out and groaning slightly. Her body was, admittedly, exhausted. However, she was far from tired.

"Witchy woman…", she heard Scorpius sigh.

Their heads were next to one another; legs stretched in opposite directions. She could not see his expression; but the closeness of their positioning allowed her to hear the rumble of his voice and feel the warmth from his person.

"Hmm?", she said; absently making patterns in her mind with the glowing stars she had charmed to stick to her ceiling many years ago

Scorpius cleared his throat; his face also glued to the high ceiling. "I used to dream about you…"

Her eyes flew wide. "Sorry?"

"I owe you a secret." His voice was low; maybe deliberately. Maybe he was exhausted. Either way, she felt a rush of heat burn through her. "My secret is that I used to dream about you…"

She bit her lip; half agonizing, half anticipating his response "In what way?"

"The best way.", he crooned. If she could see his face, she knew she'd find him smirking.

The voice was definitely deliberate.

"Oh Merlin.", she giggled; bringing a hand to her face. She was thankful he could not look directly at her; she was sure she looked identical to a tomato.

"I've managed to get it under control, don't worry.", he teased; letting out a light laugh. "But when we first started touring… It was bad."

"Bad?", she bit her lip; her mind flitting to memories of their mornings together. If she'd had any idea...

"Really bad.", His voice was hoarse.

She could feel her nerve-endings flicker with anticipatory fervor. Their warm confessions we're building into something even she couldn't fight.

"You do this thing-", she felt the words fall out of her mouth; a fuzzy sort of observation coming to her mind.

"Hmm?"

"When you wake up- and you aren't in a foul mood-", she began; bringing bashful hands to cover her eyes. "Where you sort of stretch…and make this sound."

The sound was a low groan; emitting from a primal, animal place she knew existed within him. His person was normally one of careful restraint. It was only in those moment of waking where she felt the possibility of a more physical nature.

"It's rather…", she paused; unsure of the honesty she was willing to move forward with. "Unsettling"

She felt the smirk in his tone. "Unsettling?"

"You heard me…", she whispered; peeking at him through the cage of her finger tips. He was smiling; his eyes closed with contentment.

The building of feeling continued. She could sense the tension rise; the deepening of her breath mounting.

"I really like it when you wear your hair down…", he whispered, after a moment. They were still lain on the floor; eyes fixed on the ceiling above.

She flushed, unsure of how to handle the compliment bestowed. She felt like a thousand light bulbs were going off inside of her at once.

"I like your green jumper. It's actually my favorite color on you…", she supplied, smiling nervously.

"I like watching people underestimate you…", he sighed; stretching his arms above him. "That sounds funny… I enjoy watching you prove them wrong."

"What do you mean?"

He cleared his throat; reorienting himself on the carpet. "You just come in all charming and unassuming, and you completely shock people with how capable and smart you are."

"That's really kind, Scorpius.", she said; softly shifting her eyes to take in his profile.

He was sincere. "Well, I mean it."

"I like watching the world fall in love with you…", she breathed; thinking of how her heart would swell with pride when she would watch him on stage.

His mouth gave a funny quirk; almost embarrassed. She then had an intrusive vision of him and Angèle wrapped around each other...

She chuckled with mirth. "And I sort of hate it."

He turned to look at her; their faces mere centimeters apart. His mouth was pursed, eyes searching.

"I'm terrified by the fame…", his voice was barely above a whisper.

"What scares you?"

"I think losing myself…", he got out, looking down at the space between them. "It's so easy, but all of it feels so empty. I look at Albus-"

"-you can hardly compare yourself to Al…", she said; rolling her eyes.

His brows raised with intent "I mean, look at me last night. I called myself a 'fucking rock star'"

She grinned. "You are a rock star."

It was his turn to roll his eyes; chuckling towards the ceiling again.

"It scares me too.", she confessed; combing the thread of the carpet with her finger. "I don't feel like losing you either. I already feel like he's slipping out of my grasp…"

"Stop managing our careers so well...", he teased; absently grabbing a tendril of auburn hair.

"I can't help it...", she sighed; thinking suddenly of her conversation the day before with Ira. She shook it from her mind; feeling melancholic. "I'm a real talent."

"You are.", he said, in a very no-nonsense way. "Don't sell yourself short."

"I hate this conversation.", she pouted; pushing the real world away from their sacred little space. "Tell me another secret."

He laughed; turning back to her. "You've managed to excavate most of my hidden desires…"

"No fun…" Her bottom lip protruded in a deliberate way; arising a flirty glint in his eye.

"What do you want to know?", he arched; shifting slightly towards her. "I'm putty in your hands, Weasley."

She preened. "Oh, the last name comes out…"

The energy returned. They were so close. So close it felt almost unreal. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through his hair...wanted to feel his arm around her waist. What did she want to know? How about, if I kissed you right now, what would happen?

"Hmm…", she said lamely; suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "Favorite song?"

"Impossible." He bit his lip.

Would he kiss her back? Would he grip her waist?

"Fine. Favorite song to...", dance to, kiss to, falll in love to, "… shag to."

She slapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

"No, no- Don't listen to me.", she cried covering her eyes and shaking her head.

Scorpius looked as if he had just won the lottery; moving his body so he was propped on an elbow. "Feeling tipsy already?"

Her face was bright red. "I'm tired. Let me live!"

He laughed; leaning in over her covered face "Did I hear you say 'I'm a pervert'?"

She rolled over, burying her burning face in the carpet and staying there.

"Sorry, I can't hear you, I'm asleep.", her muffled voice could be heard.

"I don't have one.", she heard him sigh; the hint of a mischievous smile following. "I haven't discovered it...yet."

"Merlin…" She buried herself further; unable to comprehend his implication.

"Play me the song."

"You're relentless.", she looked up; narrowing her eyes.

"I am." He was stalwart. Propped against her bed yet again. "It's part of my charm."

"It's not tuned.", she wrinkled her nose; sitting up.

He gave her a faintly offended look, as if to say You think I can't tune a guitar?

"-and, it's late! I don't want to wake anyone in the house.", She threw an arm in the air; pushing off the inevitable.

"They invented silencing charms for a reason, you know…", he supplied; sending an implicatory eyebrow raise her way.

She blushed again; leaning over her crossed legs to place her face in her hands. "Agh!"

His wand was out in a minute; throwing charms in each corner. When he was done he sat in front of her, an expected look on his face.

"I don't remember it.", she whispered.

"Yes you do.", he challenged, with a look at was undeniably persuasive.

She cringed. "I bloody hate you."

He gave her another look. One that clearly read 'No you don't.'

He grabbed the instrument and sat back down with in. His deft fingers went through, feeling and tightening the strings. The booze was now fully saturating her; her dizzy thoughts indulging in how impossibly handsome he looked; guitar pick between his teeth, the candlelight glinting of the rose of his cheeks.

He caught her staring. He didn't say anything, he just handed her the guitar back with a slightly rosier flush to his countenance.

She held the vessel in her lap; lightly plucking the open strings in succession. Her heart was beginning the beat in her chest; her performance anxiety beginning to kick in.

She let out a massive breath; closing her eyes and allowing the chord progression drift back into her mind.

She looked up at him for a second. His eyes were shining.

"Here's a little Elvis for ya, baby.", she teased; her fingers finding the strumming pattern. It came quicker than she thought it would. She began to feel the moody movement of the song; allowing it to take her.

Love me tender

Love me true

Never let me go

She sang out the first measures.

You have made my life complete

And I love you so…

She was unwilling to admit how much she loved to sing; relishing in the turn of her voice over each note. Controlling the volume; holding breath when necessary. It lifted her to an entirely different place.

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darling,

I love you.

And I always will…

She kept her eyes closed throughout the performance, admittedly afraid of the audiences eyes on her.

When she was done, she looked up; finding a strangely determined look on Scorpius's face. There was a curiosity to his gaze; as if she had suddenly become some mystery to him.

"Remind me again why you aren't on stage with us?", he asked; cocking a head to the side.

She rolled her eyes."Shut-up."

"No, I mean it.", he said; his earnest eyes making her feel beneath a microscope.

She looked to the side; thinking of her meager attempts at public performance. "Crowds don't agree with me."

"It was lovely.", he sighed; a raw honesty on his face. "Really lovely."

She felt suddenly very warm. Though they were feet apart; she felt the intimacy of the moment deep, deep within her. She leaned her head down; the cool wood of the guitar a relief in the heated proceedings.

"I'm shy…", she joked, using Jane's earlier sentiment. An apt comparison; she thought.

"I- I have a birthday present for you.", he said with trepidation.

She laughed; looking up. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's not that." He wouldn't look at her; his hands were nervously playing with the rug. "I- I worry the timing is bad…"

She gave him an exasperated sigh, backed by an easy smile.

"Ah, I'll be back."

He left the room; she could hear him carefully walking down the stairs. It was strange to be in the space without him; even if for a moment. Everything had felt so wonderfully complete in their tiny sanctuary; she felt his momentary absence like a cold blast of air.

She shook her head; placing the guitar back in its case and stretching her legs.

"-okay, So…", he whispered; coming back into the room. "If it's too much, I won't take offense-"

"-just give me the damn gift…", she laughed; sitting on the edge of her bed.

He sat next to her; his hand nervously clasping something behind his back. She was surprised by the intensity with which he was exhibiting. This was obviously something very important to him.

He let out a breath; revealing a plain envelope and handing it to her. "I found it awhile back…"

She gave him a quizzical look; opening the envelope and pulling out the contents. It took a moment for her to comprehend, but when she finally did, she gasped; bringing a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, Scorpius…"

It was a newspaper clipping; protected in plastic, with a moving picture framed by text. The words were in Italian; but the image itself gave context to the absence of comprehension.

Visitatori Dall'Inghilterra: Capo Dell'Auror Ronald Weasley e Famiglia.

It was her father. He was speaking to an audience of people; beaming to the crowd. His eyes were lit with energy. He looked so alive; so happy.

"I found this back in Italy…", Scorpius explained; his voice shaky. "From what I can gather, your father was campaigning for Auror legislations…"

The picture changed; her father's gaze registering something out of frame. Suddenly, a small child was barreling onto stage; her red curls bouncing with each step.

Rose gasped again, "Is that-?"

Her father's face broke into a beam; stopping his speech altogether and scooping the child up in his arms.

"That's you, yes.", Scorpius answered; his voice soft.

She was speechless; her blue eyes beginning to mist over. The swell of emotion that rose from within her was unparalleled. To watch her father tenderly kiss her cheek; hold her close. It ached in a beautiful, bittersweet way.

"I figured-", Scorpius continued "You'd have seen most of the pictures of him… It might be nice to have one you haven't seen before."

Rose was completely taken back.

No one had ever given her a gift like this. No one had ever known her so dearly and so deeply. No one had been so dangerously thoughtful. Oh, she loved him. She loved him.

And he loved her. For some cosmically unparalleled reason, they had found and fallen for each other so truly and completely it was overwhelming.

"I can't believe-", she started, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

His voice was a whisper "You like it?"

She looked up. He was so beautiful. So beautiful and she loved him and he loved her.

In her impulse of feeling, she threw her arms around him; burying her face in his neck and clinging as tightly as she possibly could. She felt the tears well further; his strong embrace being a haven for the bursting of emotion she was feeling for him.

She immediately felt his arms around her; pulling her closer, breathing her in. She could feel his errant heartbeat through his shirt. The heat coming from both their bodies was intoxicating and inordinate.

She felt her lips brush along the tender skin of his neck; the movement bringing a rush of blood to her core. She pressed a kiss -a gentle, delicate kiss- there, eliciting a tightening of his embrace on her.

"Why me?", she found herself whispering; the question breathed into the fabric of his tshirt.

He pulled back; his eyes filled with hopeful, purposeful longing.

"You're the best part about my life…", he choked out, placing those beautiful, alabaster hands on either side of her face. "I- I'm completely, utterly lost without you…"

She turned to the side; pressing a kiss to his palm. She looked back; the fiery depths of her affection mirrored in his eyes as well.

She heard her voice plead, "Please kiss me…"

"Rose-", he sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear with a sadness in his eyes. "I- I can't kiss you if you're going to run away again. It- it wrecked me. It-"

She leaned in, silencing his doubts with an aching press of her lips against his..

I won't run away, she willed the kiss to say, I can't run away. I love you.

He got the message; their fevered physical exchange becoming deeper and more visceral. All the beautiful, brilliant, built-up tension from the entire evening coming to a head in their hungry caresses.

She loved him. Merlin, she bloody loved him. In the morning, she would face the reality of what they meant. She would face the world and all its harrowing reasons for keeping them apart. Tomorrow; she would think of it.

Right now, she thought; her body gripped with indulgent and ardent passion, the searing sweetness of his kisses leaving her breathless and desperate for more, I'm just going to let myself be loved.

—-

Ahhhhhhh! They finally did it. They love each other.

If you don't review this chapter, I'll SCREAM. Jk. I just really hope you guys loved it.

I wanted the setting to be stripped of all the gravitas of their day-to-day lives, it was impossible for them not to see that they needed to be with each other. Also, his present? Do you die? I die.

This chapter had a big insight into Rose's sadness/relationship with death and with her father. It's a complicated thing to explore, but gosh does it make you feel for Rose.

I would love to know what you liked/disliked about the chapter! I'm excited to dive into the drama that the funeral will inspire. Lily and Albus can't help but draw attention to themselves.

Oh. And the playlist. This one means so much to me. I dreamed about this chapter for so long, there are SO many songs.

Back To The Old House - The Smiths

When The Family Flies In - Julia Jacklin

Really - Mimi Bay

Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor

True Love Will Find You In The End - Someone

The Other Side Of Mt. Heart Attack - Liars

Love Me Tender - Elvis (duh)

As always! Love you! You guys keep me inspired to write. Seriously!

Xoxoxo

Turnaroundeverynowandthen