A/N: Thanks to all who review my stuff, I like you much better than those who don't. (Yeah that's right you know who you are. You're those people who read my stuff and don't tell me what you think about it. You sicken me; I spit upon your ruined soul)

Definitely not a Gryffindor

One of Scorpius' favorite things in the whole world was when Rose was so embarrassed that she just exploded words, saying everything all at once. It had gotten her both in and out of detentions, and allowed him a treasured glimpse into her mind and of course it usually ended in some very long tirade of ridiculousness but it always left her flustered and meek, and he adored how she would pout afterward.

This particular rant was now considered a particular favorite; he lost count of how many times she'd called him attractive. Here he was alone in his bed with her, with his hands resting on her pelvic bone, relishing in the sultry warmth of her smooth skin, preparing to take her clothes off and she was ranting about seeing him naked or nakedish at least. Seriously, that's just cool no matter who you are.

After the exchanged smile though, he turned his attention back to the task at hand, lest he lose control of his composure and ability to reign in the ever pressing desire to allow his hands the fantasy of roaming along her beckoning body; how long can his hands be up her skirt without it being glaringly obvious he was a pervert and wanted his hands up her skirt in considerably more dastardly a fashion

He wrapped his fingers around the top of her stockings and she shivered beneath him. He looked up at her and was pleased to note she blushed.

"Your hands are cold." She answered, uncharacteristically soft as she spoke with one side of her mouth turned upward in an unreadable manner. The skin his fingers touched were smooth and warm, all he wanted to do was let his hands explore, perhaps see if he could make her shiver at his touch again. Merlin's beard that would be lovely' he thought as he felt his arousal build further. Image after image flooded before him of her coy smile broadening as he made her shutter and quake with his exploratory movements.

Instead he wrapped his hands nervously around the waist, visualizing the action in his mind that was happening beneath her disheveled skirt. He saw the vivid colors of her bright pink and orange stockings as began tugging them down, exposing the unknown color of her panties he felt with the bare knuckles as he tugged slowly. He had moved only a few inches before they stopped.

Without exchanging words she lifted, his eyes trained on the raise of her hips elevating the curve of her backside away from the blanket. He watched her, utterly transfixed by her subtle movements. That slightest of actions from her was enough to send his mind hurtling off in the direction of the hundreds of times he'd laid in the very spot she rested and imagined moving like that with her.

She couldn't know, there was no way for her to phantom the vision she called forth with her seemingly innocent movement. He slowly slides his hands down her legs struggling against her siren call. He knew the feel of these legs wrapped around him, moving against him, beseeching him to continue in a mutual quest for carnal pleasure. Her skin was silk as he moved and it took all his powers of mental fortitude to resist the ever increasing urge to run his hand back up the interior of her soft inviting thighs.

Then just as his mind began to come to terms with their continued course away from his constant nocturnal fantasies she made it impossible. She released a barely audible rush of breath. He knew that sound, that haunting and wonderful noise; she had made it last night. In the throngs of her passion their previously intertwined bodies moving rhythmically against each other had elicited; as she clung to him after whispering his name before being overwhelmed by sensations, she had breathed like that, a quiet pant of forced steady and controlled breath.

That did it for him, and though he knew it was wrong; would likely get him slapped or rejected he did it what the base instincts told him to do, screamed for him to give into. He continued the descent down her legs he flattened his hands against her skin; so instead of avoiding contact out of fear and embarrassment he embraced the opportunity he might never have again and curled his long fingers around her legs, allowing his thumbs to feel the inside of her limbs and he pushed her stockings down as slowly and with as much contact as possible.

He watched her face in fascination as the eyes closed and a lower lip was pulled into a wet mouth in what he recognized as a sign of deepest concentration. He stared as her breath hitched and her hands clenched around the fisted fabric of his duvet. The real Rose beat any imagined Rose he'd conjured up in his most vivid of dreams. He couldn't help but be struck by how responsive to the slightest of his touches she was.

As he reached her knee and wrapped his fingers around her leg to tickle the underside she winced loudly and jerked her leg out of his grasp.

"Sorry," he said earnestly. Berating himself for being so thoughtless, how could he have been so stupid to have forgotten the reason behind this whole endeavor?

"It's alright," Rose muttered as she sat up and used her good hand to assist in pulling down the violently hues stockings and though it wasn't as physically satisfying it was still enjoyable to watch her remove them all the same. "I think I landed on the whole side of my leg funny." She turned her lower half to one side, exposing the underside of her thighs for him to examine before she handed him a small plain container with a screw top cap.

"What's this?" He asked examining the unmarked something now resting in his palm.

"It's a bruise remover, you think with my track record I don't have some handy at all times? It's my uncle's special recipe, Mum swears by it. I'd be bruises all over if it weren't for that stuff." She smiles in a way that made him think she was nervous; at least it isn't just him.

He inspected the underside of her upturned knee and sure enough there was signs of a nasty future bruise. He unscrewed the top and inside, about half full was a whitish paste.

Scorpius felt self conscious as he applied it on to her. His eyes were flitting between the forming bruise and the way her skirt fell in the back. The flutter of her skirt as his hands disturbed the hem and he found himself moving his wrist more dramatically than actually necessary to accentuate this action.

He was suddenly torn between the lust growing deeper and deeper within him as he rubbed her, and the integrity of the position as designated healer in this situation. Healers don't do this, they are professionals. They don't get off on rubbing ointment into bruises. Rose's voice broke his morally conflicting concentration.

"Now that the pain in my wrist is going down I can really feel how bad my leg hurts. Do you think you could," Rose hesitated searching for words before finishing. "Check up a little higher? That whole area is starting to really ache."

It was as though the fates were laughing at him. 'Yeah go ahead and try to moralize about being sexually aroused by a medical treatment, we'll just go ahead and make it more interesting,' He imagined the fates whispering mockingly on the sidelines.

He watched his own hands in disbelief that this was reality as he pushed her skirt further up her thighs, teetering tantalizingly close to her curve rounded backside. He had a remembered flash of clutching her in his hands, holding her as they moved in synch together.

He moved his palm against her skin and she let out a soft moan. He felt his pants grow tighter still as he worked the paste into her skin. Scorpius rubbed and circled, letting his mind imagine dozens of different ways to satisfy his lust for her. He adjusted his thumb upward as he moved higher and higher until it grazed the along the edge of her panties.

At the touch of her soft and smooth undergarment he almost lost control right then. His mind warred with itself, one, and a majority, whispered for him to take her hip in hand and rub against her curved and inviting backside. He wanted it, craved it. She was like an aged glass of whiskey to a thirsty alcoholic. He was addicted to her in every imaginable way and being like this, with her softly mewing to his caress was like a fix too tempting to pass up.

Then of course there was the morally conscious part of him, the small and more guilt stricken part that knew it was terribly wrong to take advantage. Was he listening though? No, instead he ran his thumb further up, broaching the underside of the garment. Wrong, still too far but still she just sighed at his touch. He closed his eyes, and took deep breaths to steady himself. He moved his thumb along the inside of her panty line and moved it upward toward the crest of her hipbone.

'In for a sickle, in for a galleon' he thought as he shifted closer to her. He slowly rubbed his hands along her leg, his eyes fixed upon the shoulder blocking his view of her face. It was torture not being able to read her expression. Was she smiling the gentle contented smile she gets when she's finishing up a good novel; perhaps the harsh and dissatisfied grimace she wears when her eggs are soggy? He had to know, to feel out her reaction to his probing caresses, gauge the response of months of aching desire finally coming to a head. Curiosity over whelmed his nervous inhibitions.

Scorpius leaned into her; propping his elbow up beside her to grant his fervent inquisition as he peered over the gentle slope of her shoulder.

He was startled by how lovely her face looked. Eyes closed and biting her lower lip as it curved delicately into a soft smile. 'YES!' his mind screamed out as he studied her. He shifted closer to her, gripping her hip as he pulled himself toward her, curling himself beside her like he had dreamed of a thousand times before. The reality was so much sweeter than any dream as he settled in beside her.

He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed her in; he felt her shiver and relax into him. She turned her head to him with a serene and crooked smile gracing her lips.

This was it, this was his moment. He knew without any wavering doubt in his mind that a moment like this was not to be wasted on insecurities and fear. All he had to do was move forward; mere centimeters separated him from her slightly parted lips, the taste of her chap stick played in his memory as his mind anticipated the body's movements.

Time stretched out before him, infinite and immeasurable.

His body would not do as his mind commanded, he wanted this, he wanted her. He wanted her more than anything he could have ever fathomed wanting. She was the very definition of desire in his mind, and she was right there; calling to him with the promise of satisfied lusts.

Yet he could not move. Froze, it was as though he'd been petrified by a spell any first year can do. She was right there looking at him with eyes that beacon him to move and he could do nothing.

The quiet was filling quickly with uncomfortable tension, like a jar being slowly filled with draining sand; if he didn't move quickly he would soon be buried in the rushing discomfort of mounting tension.

He watched as she heaved a heavy sigh.

"I think my arm is really starting feel better." Rose's voice was barely above a whisper but it rang in the silence like porcelain shattering on marble floor.

"Right, of course," Scorpius muttered as he withdrew his hand from beneath her skirt with a speed more associated with burning flame than a lover's intimate touch.

Another pause settled awkwardly between them as Scorpius began shifting all the stolen healing supplies back and forth pointlessly along the bed in a futile attempt to keep his hands busy. He didn't dare open his mouth again as shame and disappointment filled him.

That was his moment, the moment he'd been telling himself for over a year that if it presented itself he would take advantage no matter what the consequences and all he had done was freeze. He was worse than a field mouse being stared down by a house cat. After moving all the contents back and forth at least three times he resolved to either become a hermit in the forbidden forest, perhaps taking on as Professor Hagrid's assistant or change his sexual preferences entire to avoid such unmitigated disasters.

"Ya know Scorp," Rose said in a perky cheery voice. He looked at her and his insides burned with humiliation at her easy tone. "You are going to make one hell of a healer one day." He tried to smile but had a suspicion that it came out little more than a grimace.

"Thanks," he replied glumly

"Let me know if you ever want to play healer and naughty assistant sometime," and without another word she slid off his bed, turning back and wicking before disappearing to the outside of his drawn curtains.

He was going to need to be alone with his thoughts for a moment after that.