"Insufferable know-it-all!"
"Shut your mouth, ferret face!"
"He's not worth it, Madeleine, let's go."
"Oh, am I not, Cravinston? Then who do you think is? That pathetic Winston!? He's not half the man I am!"
"What are you trying to say, Marcus?"
"Nothing, nothing, I'm not trying to convince Madeleine that I'm a better, more attractive and successful wizard than Winston and that she should leave him. No, I most certainly am not!"
"It's a shame then, because even if you did, I will not be convinced so."
It was a breezy October afternoon and the cast was practicing in an empty classroom because the Great Hall was being fixed for the upcoming Halloween bash.
"Okay, children!" James announced at the crowd of fourth years. "So far, we're still at act I and we've only got a month and a few days to rehearse, so I want you all to memorize your lines by next meeting, alright?"
"The dialogues of this play are killing me!" Rose exclaimed. "I think a week's worth of detention is better than saying these bloody lines."
"Oh, you think bathing hippogriffs is much better than this?" Al inquired curiously.
"Sure she does," Scorpius interrupted with a devilish grin. "Because she can have me all to herself."
Rose threw one of the props across the room. Amy flushed like a tomato.
"Oh, please Malfoy, just because Marcus is in love with Madeleine, doesn't mean I'm crazy for you. You wish!"
"Looks like you two are getting along well now, aren't you." James put an arm on each of their shoulders. "That'll help get you in character for sure."
"Oh, last week's bat on the face wasn't enough for you, James?" Rose taunted.
"Oh, Rose! You don't know how crucial the both of you are to my wee little project." James sneered cynically.
"Yeah, right, James! If the team didn't need you for this Saturday's game, I would knock your brains out with my bat."
Rose picked up her bag and sprinted to the library to finish her research.
"You didn't tell her the match was cancelled?" Al asked with humor.
"It'll break her heart." James replied dramatically.
"Not to mention your face." Scorpius added.
The library was silent save for a gang of Ravenclaw first years who seemed like they were debating about something. Finally, after a few minutes, a girl with auburn braids approached Rose.
"Um, aren't you playing Marcus in the winter play this December?" she said shyly.
"Er, Yes, that's right." Replied Rose awkwardly.
"I just wanted to say that I love all of Ms. Lovegood's works and I think you'll do a charming job, Ms. Weasley." She blushed and turned to walk away but stopped briefly to hand her a box of treacle tarts. "Oh, this is from my friends."
"Gee, thanks." The gaggle of first years squealed like pigs as they marched towards the exit of the library.
"Looks like you've got yourself a couple of admirers." Scorpius suddenly appeared from nowhere.
"Since I've got female admirers," Rose chuckled heartily. "I bet you got boy first years running around after you, right?"
"Ha-ha, mighty hilarious." He responded in a sarcastic manner. "So, what are you doing?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm doing homework."
"I meant this Saturday."
"Duh, Quidditch match. Don't you know anything?"
"I hate to break it to you, but the match was cancelled due to the upcoming storm."
"What?! Since when?"
"Yesterday."
"Why didn't that git tell me it was cancelled!?"
"Beats me."
"That's just capital! More gay rehearsals."
"So, does this mean you're free Saturday morning?"
"Are you asking me out?"
"No," Scorpius did a poker face despite the cold sweat running down his spine. "I just- my father's meeting me at Hogsmeade this Saturday and he asked me to bring someone."
"Wait, isn't your dad that tall blonde dude my dad loathes so much?"
"Cut the crap, Weasley. Can you come or not?"
"Why ask me, anyway? I'm sure he'd love some Slytherin friends of yours."
"Because I want you to meet him." Scorpius looked at his feet unconsciously. Rose was startled by the delicate look in his blue eyes.
"Fine." She said brashly. "But I want to see you wear this first."
She pulled out a curly, brown wig from her bag and put it on Scorpius' head.
"Man, you really do look like a chick!" Rose laughed hysterically.
"Okay, you've had your fun."
"Do I need to wear my best dress robe this Saturday?"
"Just try to look like a woman, for once."
"I will try."
"Curtis!" Rose banged at the dormitory door of Curtis Jordan, one of the chasers in the Gryffindor team and the recent girlfriend of James. "Curtis, open the bloody door!"
"Righty-o, Ms. Quidditch queen!" the door opened to reveal one of the most stylish people in Hogwarts. It pained Rose to go to her but she'd rather have Curtis than Amy.
"Why didn't you tell me this Saturday's match was a no-go?" Rose demanded.
"It is?" she replied in a fake surprised tone. "I had no idea! It must've slipped James mind to tell me."
"Don't play coy with me, Jordan."
"I should tell you the same thing Rose. I know you're not here because of Saturday's game. What is it that you need?"
Probably one of the many reasons Rose was irate of Curtis was her uncanny ability to be clever, athletic and gorgeous all at the same time. It makes her all too insecure about her own qualities.
"Okay, so I'm going to hang out with this guy this Saturday and I need to be all girled up and stuff because his father's going to be there."
"Oh, Rose, you're just ever so honest."
"Well, I would've made an excuse but it's just too hard to think of any. I mean, why else would I want to get dressed up, right?"
"You could've said Armageddon was coming."
"Whatever, Curtis, just help me out on this."
Curtis circled around the red-headed 'female' and rubbed her own chin every now and then. Finally she stopped and sat on her bed.
"Listen carefully now, Rose. I'm going to tell you 5 simple rules which will make you a real woman." Rose rolled her eyes. "First off, naturally big and bouncy curls such as yours shouldn't be kept in that horrible bun."
Curtis tapped the rubber band holding Rose's hair with her wand and it fell off, releasing Rose's big hair.
"Second, you should never slouch like that, it's very unflattering." She poked Rose's back, causing her to straighten up. "Third, you shouldn't talk so loud and vulgar because it's impolite for a lady to do so."
Rose scrunched up her nose.
"Fourth, when walking, you should never sway your arms like a gorilla. Don't keep your fists closed, always keep them busy and walk like the floor is made of glass."
"What? Like everything's all delicate and fragile?"
"Lastly, you dress terribly."
That Saturday, Scorpius and Rose just decided to meet at the Three Broomsticks for lunch because Al and Lily wanted to hang out with her first.
At half past 11, Scorpius was getting anxious with how late Rose had become. His father, Draco Malfoy, sat across the table from him, sipping a glass of Firewhisky.
"So, when is this friend of yours arriving, Scorpius?" he inquired with that smirk which seemed so permanently attached to his face.
"Any minute now," he glanced at his watch. "She's probably on her way right this second."
"Ah, by the way," a spark of interest in his suave voice. "I heard from your mother that you will be doing a play of Luna Lovegood's."
"You heard correctly, father." Replied Scorpius, worried at what question might come next.
"I am truly curious as to what role you have landed." Draco looked at him with a pair of piercing eyes.
"Um-" at that very moment, the door to the pub opened and Rose Weasley stepped in gracefully.
Scorpius' eyes enlarged at the unusual sight; Rose was wearing an innocent powder-blue dress, thick, wool stockings and knee-high boots. Her voluminous, red hair bounced animatedly at her shoulders and her big, round eyes surveyed the bar curiously, making her look like a life-sized porcelain doll.
Scorpius waved his hand at her, showing her that his father had already arrived. She strode quickly to where they were and almost tripped at the pace she was going.
"A Weasley?" Draco eyed his son peculiarly, Scorpius tried to avoid his father's gaze.
"Good day to you, sir." Rose tried to sound as politely as she could.
"And to you Miss-?" Draco Malfoy replied enthusiastically.
"Weasley. Rose Weasley, sir."
"Which Weasley's?" Draco inquired even though he knew the answer.
"Hermione and Ron Weasley's daughter, sir."
Draco started at the mention of his former schoolmates' names.
"Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rose." Draco surveyed her for a moment and decided. "You look an awful lot like your mother."
"I never knew you and my mother were friends, sir." Rose suppressed a smile; she knew they hated each other.
"Yes, we were, um, how you say, acquaintances." Draco grinned sarcastically. "So how is your old man doing these days?"
"Dad's still working for the Ministry, I don't really know much, top secret auror business." In truth Rose did know what her father was doing, she just didn't feel like telling Mr. Malfoy that.
"And your mother?"
"I think she's planning on running for Minister next year, sir."
"Is that so? Well, tell her good luck from me." Draco betrayed a little genuine smile at the puzzled girl.
"I'm sure you can tell her that yourself, Mr. Malfoy, if you happen to come and watch our play this December."
Scorpius' mouth stood agape at the sudden turn of the topic. He was not pleased that Rose brought it up once more.
"Ah, yes, I've been meaning to watch it," Draco rubbed his palms together. "See, my wife and Ms. Lovegood are quite the business partners. Ms. Lovegood has published a considerable number of books in Mrs. Malfoy's publishing outlet."
"How delightful."
"So, might I ask what role you have gotten?"
"Are you familiar of the play, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Certainly! It's one of Ms. Lovegood's most notable failures. My wife has told me all about it."
"Well, I was chosen to play Marcus."
"Truly? That is marvelous! Although, you would've made a wonderful Madeleine."
"No, Scorpius is playing her." Scorpius looked dumbstruck.
"What?" Draco looked as surprised as his son.
"Oh, didn't he tell you, sir?" she turned to Scorpius with an evil looked masked with innocence. "I'm sorry if I suddenly told your father, Malfoy. I thought he already knew."
"Rose!" he cried like an injured animal.
"You're playing a woman?" Draco's mouth was twitching uncontrollably. "Well, that certainly is something to tell your mother."
Rose started laughing and soon Draco joined in as well. Scorpius went pink as if he was just slapped on the face.
"I would definitely come to watch your play, Scorpius. Just please do not embarrass me." Draco stood up from the table and was followed suit by the two fourteen year-olds.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Rose." He winked meaningfully at Scorpius and whispered at his ear. "She's a nice girl."
"Same here, Mr. Malfoy." Rose extended her hand to shake with the man before he turned to leave.
"You just had to tell my father, didn't you?"
"What's the matter? He was cool with it. Besides, I liked him, well enough. He's a pleasant man." She smiled at Scorpius.
"That's because you share the same evil qualities."
"So, I heard you had a date with Malfoy last Saturday." James coaxed.
"Have you nothing better to do James? Why don't you tease your own sister for a change?"
"Hey, I'm only curious as to why you of all people would go out with a guy, more importantly, someone you vowed to hate."
"Technically, James, I didn't go out with him," she replied absent-mindedly. "I accompanied him to meet his father."
"Whoa! You met up with Draco Malfoy? Your dad's arch nemesis?"
"Don't make it sound so dramatic, James."'
"Wait 'til uncle Ron takes a load of this."
"Say all you want to him, but I happen think that Mr. Malfoy is a perfectly respectable gentleman. Dad's just acting like a kid, thinking that people don't change even after 23 years."
"Ooh, meeting up someone's dad, that's an even bigger deal than going out with Malfoy." James sniggered like a maniac. "So when are you going to announce your wedding?"
James went on with the rest of the day with a flock of fire-breathing birds after his arse.
November came with much more snow than they expected that self-heating coats became the trend of the season. Quidditch matches got cancelled consecutively, much to Rose's dismay, causing winter play rehearsals to become as regular as classes themselves. James found a way to get back to Rose for getting his head of hair singed to a crisp by teaching Peeves the Poltergeist a new song:
Rose and Scorpius, sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
First comes love, second comes marriage, and third comes a baby in a wee, pink carriage!
Rose learned not to throw forks at Peeves every time he sings that song because it simply went threw him. Instead, she punched James on the nose whenever she heard it.
Scorpius had no problem dealing with the gossip and the rumors that Rose and he were an item because he just loved the stupid look McLaggen's face forms whenever he heard Peeves singing the Rose and Scorpius song. Also, he secretly fancied Rose, and his father approved of her as well.
The winter play posed to be a giant success despite its infamy, because of the interesting line-up of the cast and the combined efforts of the 5th years in costume design and props, the 6th years in production and direction, and the 7th years for backdrop design and magical effects. It also fulfilled its purpose in promoting inter-house camaraderie since everyone was too interested about its details that they didn't care which house provided the information they needed.
One blurry November night, Professor McGonagall sat in her study, waiting for an important visitor. A sudden poof at her fire grate startled the old woman and looked up from her glasses.
"Professor," greeted the forty something man. "All's well, I hope?"
"Ah, yes, of course." She replied. "Your suggestion for a winter play has been a splendid success."
"So the children are doing fine?"
"Surely, they are. I'm just a little bothered by the aggressiveness of your niece, Ms. Weasley. She's been quite a handful since she joined the Quidditch team. Madame Pam has been fixing up Quidditch injuries all season. It's a good thing, matches have been cancelled this month; it'll do her classmates good not to be bludgeoned by her bat once in a while."
"I'll talk to her father, Professor, worry not." He smiled a kind, warm smile.
"Your sons are well. James has done a great job in directing the winter play and Albus even withdrew from the Quidditch team just to brush up on his academics. Lily has been well-behaved too. I just hope her spending too much time with Ms. Weasley will not affect her."
"I'm all fired up for December." McGonagall noticed the white streaks on his jet-black hair.
"Watch out for your health, though. I heard from Professor Longbottom that you're heart isn't doing so well these days."
"You should talk. I'm not the one nearing a hundred years old."
"Just remember if it's a sickness St. Mungo can't cure, stay clear of any muggle remedies; they are nothing but overrated."
"Sure will, Minerva."
"We'll see you soon, Mr. Potter."
"No, there is no bloody way I am wearing this dress at the winter play!"
"What are you talking about? It suits you perfectly!" Albus remarked as he surveyed Scorpius' slim figure.
"Your waist is so trimmed!" Rose commented as she put her arms around Scorpius' corseted waist to measure it. "Are you sure you're a boy?"
"I never thought a guy could make me this insecure." Amy hissed, looking at her own, untrimmed waist. "I feel my self-esteem slipping away."
"This will surely get you into the Quidditch team next year, I hope." James whispered into Scorpius' ears. "But Rose, you look absolutely dashing!"
"You think so?" asked Rose as she looked at her own, macho, knight-ish get-up.
"Of course, all the ladies will fall for this old chap." Said James referring to Marcus' character.
"I'm quite comfortable I can pull this off, James."
"Are you, now?
"Obviously you're forgetting what happens in Act III Scene 4." Albus supplied.
"It's going to be a stage kiss, right? No worries." Rose shrugged off.
"Or will it?" James silently snickered to himself evilly.
After the many tiring weeks of rehearsing lines and blockings, staging spells and curses that weren't really cast by the actors but by the experienced seventh years, magically sewing 16th century costumes, playing with hair length and colors, conjuring realistic illusions for backdrops, explosions caused by an attempted polyjuice potion and several other magical misdeeds, the winter play was up and running by the end of November.
"A month's worth of Quidditch victories can't compare to the absolute joy and pride I have for this play!" James teared up hysterically like the suave, drama king that he is. "See, Rose, this isn't so bad! Quidditch matches only got us competitive with each other while this play has gathered up all the houses and united them as a school."
"Whatever, James." Rose rolled her eyes irately because she knew that James was right. There never was such a year at Hogwarts like this one. Gryffindors, Slytherins, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs alike visit each others tables during meal times just to get wind of the latest improvements in the play. The higher year levels collaborate with the tasks they were each assigned with. It was almost as if someone cast a spell on them all to join together as one school.
That early December, Luna Lovegood, the playwright herself, came to visit Hogwarts. She was dazzled by the superior backdrops and costumes and of course, by the interesting cast James Potter came up with.
"Well, James. You have done a superb job, I must say!" said Luna with her unchanging dreamy voice.
"I couldn't have done it without you, Aunt Luna." James replied.
"I never thought that my play would be chosen! What an honor indeed. I'm sure your family would be delighted to see this!"
At that moment, Lily and Rose appeared at the Great Hall.
"Aunt Luna!" Lily exclaimed jubilantly, as she was very close with her godmother.
"Lily, dear! And darling Rose, too! What a pleasant surprise!"
"Hi, Aunt Luna." Rose responded casually.
"I just found out that you would be playing Marcus, of all people."
"Ah, yes. How exciting, is it not?" Luna noticed the dull, sardonic tone in Rose's voice and was baffled.
"Why, do you not know the secret of this play?"
"Secret?"
"James, didn't you tell her?" James shrugged his shoulders. "So, that is why you have not taken an interest in this play. Have you not wondered why James is so enthusiastic about it?"
"Er-Aunt Luna, I don't think it'll do her good to know right before the play. Let's just tell them after." James whispered as softly as he could.
"You mean the Malfoy boy knows not a thing too?" cried Luna in disbelief. "Why, James! This is the reason why they didn't enjoy rehearsing it. Shame on you, James."
"What are you talking about?" Rose demanded.
"Nothing, Aunt Luna's just overreacting, is all."
"Fine, if you don't want to tell them, then don't. I won't force you."
"Please, Aunt Luna, their young hearts can't take it yet."
"Alright, you're the boss. After the presentation, then."
