A/N: This is way overdue, please don't be mad! And I'm sorry it's so short and that the last chapter was a pointless filler. I've been experiencing sever writers' block, so I'm sorry the last chapter sucked, and this one probably does too. I want to thank Missdagane for being a consistent reviewer. (: I also want to thank Tajzanna for the advice – I'll try to speed things up. I put in a few fillers because I didn't want to rush into anything with the story, but this chapter should be somewhat eventful (I hope). I'll try not to have anymore fillers. Please review.

P.S. This chapter jumps ahead 4 weeks to the Hogsmeade trip.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That belongs to the fantastic J.K. Rowling.

Chapter six: Of Butterbeers and Boyfriends

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I pick up my wand from the table and head out into the common room, where Charlie is waiting for me.

"You look nice," he comments once I'm standing next to him.

"Thanks," I answer, and motion to the portrait hole, "Shall we?"

"We shall," he responds, and I let out a small giggle at how lame we sound as we make our way towards the Great Hall.

We line up with the rest of the students anxiously awaiting the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. I always find this funny because you can tell which year each student is in.

The first years are milling about the entrance to the great hall, looking longingly at the older kids' good fortune.

The few second years hanging around just look pissed.

The third years have these really excited looks on their faces, like a kid on Christmas morning.

The fourth years are trying to look cool by rolling their eyes as if they've been to Hogsmeade a million times, but you can tell they're a little antsy and excited.

The fifth years are anxiously checking their hair in pocket mirrors because this is the first year they actually have dates to Hogsmeade.

The sixth years look almost bored.

The seventh years are laughing their heads off at everyone else's antics.

Ah, life.

Filch checks our permission slips, eying them suspiciously (as he does everyone's), before grudgingly letting us go. I can hear a group of third year girls behind us squealing in excitement.

"So," Charlie says, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Where do you want to go?"

I shrug. "Anywhere – no, I take that back, anywhere except Madame Pudifoots."

"I was so looking forward to a nice cup of tea," he jokes.

I snort. "No thank you," I say, "How about the Three Broomsticks? I know so many people go there, but I really want some butterbeer."

He nods. "The Three Broomsticks it is," he says.

We reach the Three Broomsticks and order two butterbeers before weaving through the crowd and finding a small table in a corner of the shop. I climb up onto a stool across from Charlie and take a sip of my butterbeer.

"Do you think you're ready for the game next week, with missing so much practice and all?" he asks.

I shrug. "I have to be ready, I guess. I'll just wing it, and besides, Adrienne missed just as much practice as me, so I think our teams are even."

He nods. "Definitely."

And then there's one of those dreaded awkward silences, and I can hear Charlie slurping the last bit of his butterbeer. Really, really loudly. And then he burps. Ick.

"So," he says, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, without even saying excuse me, "I'm glad you decided to come with me. I mean, my last girlfriend was a total retard who only talked about—" he drones on and on about his past girlfriends.

Not my idea of a good time.

I glance around the shop, noticing a few people. I see Albus sitting with Scorpius a few tables over. Albus is staring at me. I stick my tongue out at him, and he sticks his out too.

I glance back down at my butterbeer – it's empty, an excuse.

"I'm gonna go get another butterbeer," I say, "You want one?"

"Sure," Charlie answers. I get up and walk by Albus' table, stopping for a second to kick his shin.

"Ow!" he yelps, "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I needed to kick someone." I say.

He smirks. "That bad, huh?"

I nod, seriously. "Torture, Albus, it's total torture. You can't even imagine."

"What'd he do?" Albus asks.

"He will not stop talking about his old girlfriends and how they were bitches. And then he burped. I hate it when people burp."

"Hold on a sec," Albus says, downing his butterbeer. Then he pulls back and lets out a loud burp. I jump back.

"Albus!" I cry, and Scorpius laughs, quickly turning it into a cough when I glare at him.

"So why'd you come over here?" he asks.

"I need you to tell me what to do," I plead, "How do I get him to not like me?"

"Just tell him you don't like him, Rose, it's simple."

"But I can't do that!" I protest. "'Oh by the way, Charlie, I think you're an ass without manners. I don't like you and our date is over. Have a nice day.'" I say sarcastically.

Albus laughs. "That's bloody perfect!"

I shake my head. "No – something else. Something good. What is the one thing, Albus, that would make you not like a girl?"

Albus shakes his head. "I dunno – I guess, if she's unattractive, like you," he jokes.

"Thanks," I say sarcastically, and he snickers.

"Well – if she's taken – I got it!" He says, sitting up straighter, a smug smile on his face. "You tell him you have a boyfriend already and that you thought you two were going as friends. Hah! That's a real turn-off – the old 'friends' card."

I snort. "And where is my so-called boyfriend?" I ask.

He grins wickedly. "Scorpius."

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A/N: Ahh! A cliffhanger ... kind of. We're finally getting some headway on the Rose/Scorpius relationship. Pretty please review!

Love, love, love

Paige