A/N: I am enjoying this new thing where I tell you what I want to read in the reviews and then you like actually review with that in there. It's really cool! *evil cackle that shakes like the bowels of the earth* Sadly, this time I have no specific requests. It's just a short chapter of me waiting for laundry to be done so I can put it in the dryer yo! "Peace (well not literally)" -----name what quote and I will dedicate an awkward moment to you!

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Rose and her body were at constant war. While Rose has this mental image of herself gracefully walking down a hallway, more often than not her feet would find something on that smooth flat surface to stumble upon. On a good day where she felt calm and relaxed she could still manage to shatter the ceramic bowl holding the salamander spleen or knock her neatly and much too highly stacked books off the corner of her desk with her elbow.

Today would not be classified as one her best of days. The double potions class she was now sitting through was actually comical to several of the people around her, most especially her cousin across the room.

She had made a resolution that morning not to let there be any awkwardness between her and Scorpius. The years of acclimation to humiliation via her unfiltered mouth and emotional maturity of a dry roasted peanut made this task fairly manageable, she had for the most part maintained her composure during their brief encounter at breakfast despite fighting a nagging portion of her consciousness that refused to focus on anything except for his lips. How was she ever going to concentrate on anything else now?

It had even been going so well she relished in throwing in a comment or two that was delighted in watching Scorpius's less than composed reactions too. Not even an hour from that encounter wherein she had remained composure and he had dribbled the juice now staining his tie, how was it then that he was the one cool and collected and she was the one mopping up the fire weed pickled kelp she'd knocked onto the hard dungeon floor as she muttered explanations and apology's to Jaslena and her now smoking book bag.

Jaslena Goldstein simply glared at her and moved her bag to the other side of the table simply to continued her hauty air of smug superiority. Rose stood back up and faced her now ruined potion.

"I'm terribly sorry Miss Weasley, but I have no choice but to award you a zero for today's practical portion of our lesson." Professor Abernathy said apologetically. "Let us take this as an example of what happens with the best of starts to a potion when even the slightest deviation is unskillfully attempted." He was speaking loudly to the whole class now and Rose slumped down into her chair sulking at being made the idiot example of the day. "Exploration is encouraged in potioneering but should be done so under a strict adherence to Gopalots rules of elemental experimentation."

Rose was rethinking her selection of her favorite teacher when she felt warm breath on her neck.

"Are you alright Rose?" Scorpius concerned husky whisper tickled down her skin. She turned her head to find his perfect lips and dimpled chin next to her. She felt her breath catch in her chest, his pale blue eyes studying her made her lose what little concentration she had managed to maintain through the whole ordeal.

"Huh?" was her lazy and unfocused reply.

"Well your stockings," they both looked down at her knee. She watched as he placed his warm hand gently on the three holes now dusting her knee. "it seems the the fire weed brine isn't terribly fabric friendly." Professor Abernathy could have stripped down naked and done the conga and it wouldn't have pulled Rose's concentration away from the thumb he was grazing across the tiny exposure of bare skin or the intoxicating feeling of his fingers curling around the base of her thigh. She tried to swallow and found the perfunctory action completely impossible.

"They're ruined." Despite that these were indeed her favorite pair of bright neon multi hued striped tights that she had picked out especially for today to give her courage, she couldn't have cared less that they were totally destroyed. What were a pair of pink and orange candy cane striped stockings compared to his hand on her thigh.

His hand, still on her leg, was ensuring she continued to find it difficult to process thoughts coherently. She licked her lips subconsciously and wondered for a moment what he was thinking about as he touched her like that. Did he have any idea of what his fingers wrapped around the inside of her thigh was doing to her? Her mind was begging his hand to ascend further up her leg, flashing her images of his palm sliding up her inner thigh. Oh sweet merlin's saggiest pair of y-fronts why was he doing this to her.

Was this pay back for what she'd said at breakfast, or maybe, just maybe there was the tiniest possibility that he enjoyed touching her like that? That he wanted her to be forced to sit calmly and quietly as her mind imagined the slow and steady caresses of his large powerful hands. They were sitting in a classroom with 20 other people and all she could think about was his hand on her knee. Was he just reveling in the obvious reaction she was once again having to him. She forced herself back to reality and muttered.

"Not ruined, now they're perfect for my Roller Derby try outs." She forced a wide smile before turning her head back to the front of the class. His hand lingered for a moment longer before the sudden exposure to the cool air left her empty inside.