Disclaimer: etc etc
A/N: I've decided it's probably easier to update this on Friday/Saturday nights (it fits in better with my cycle of assessment at uni) but I feel guilty leaving almost two weeks in between updates... so I'm uploading this chapter in two parts, one today, one on the weekend, and hopefully after that I'll have regular updates with proper chapter lengths :)
"I'm coming over," warned Rose's head in the fireplace, eyes tightly shut. Ever since that incident with George, Angelina and vibrating stuffed monkey, she'd stopped popping over to people's flats unannounced – something for which Scorpius was very grateful right now, going by the state of his lounge room floor...
A thin blanket lay crumpled next to the coffee table. Scorpius grinned ruefully to himself; in hindsight, his melodramatic self-pity of last night seemed rather pathetic.
Because Rose was coming over, wasn't she? Whatever happened between Knightley and Rose, it had exactly zero effect on Scorpius Malfoy.
Scorpius was rather proud of the Polyjuice Plan.
Oh. Right. Rose. "Give me five, I need to tidy up a bit."
Rose's head nodded, and disappeared. Five minutes! He picked up the blanket frantically and shoved it in the laundry. Next came a pile of Ministry papers, the clothes he'd been wearing for the last two days and – Scorpius was ashamed of the sight of it – three empty bowls of Weasleys' Instant Mood-Lifter Scoops.
He immediately resolved to start moodily sipping on Firewhiskeys instead.
"Coming, ready or not," came Rose's singsong voice, as she stepped out of the fire and the last of the newly cleaned dishes floated into his cupboard. The door gave a guilty thud as it closed.
"Good morning, my bestest friend from Hogwarts," he said immediately, then grimaced. "Wow. I hope that wasn't as squeaky as it sounded."
"Squeakier," Rose confirmed, plopping herself onto his couch. "Merlin, I'm exhausted. You'd think I'd be used to the Weasley brood by now, but no."
"It's times like this I'm glad my parents restrained themselves to just me."
She grinned. "So do I. But then I wouldn't have Hugo to make me look good at family reunions."
He stood up immediately and marched to the drinks cupboard. "The whole red-head brigade, huh? I think this calls for a Firewhiskey."
Rose hesitated, then asked for a butterbeer instead. "I don't know if I'm up for the strong stuff tonight," she confessed, rubbing her head. "I've had enough Firewhiskey today to last me a .lifetime."
"You don't mean to tell me that the great Ms R. Weasley allowed herself to become intoxicated at a family gathering?"
Rose swatted him - or she would have, anyway, if she'd been six feet closer. "You know perfectly well it wasn't my fault. Fred and James decided that now that Hugo's got his first job it's time to start having 'adult' lunches..."
Scorpius laughed out loud. "That brings up images of Fred and James parading around in their mothers' lingerie. Images I didn't particularly want to have in my head, thanks."
"Oh, and you think I want to think about Aunt Ginny's underwear, do you?" Rose demanded, raising an eyebrow. "No, thankfully everyone stayed fully clothed - for once. Their little piece of bloody-irritating-but-also-bloody-marvellous magic this time was transforming all the water in a 10-yard radius to Firewhiskey."
"When you say all the water..."
"I mean all the water. Not just the stuff in our glasses. I mean every single drop of water. Do you know how much water goes into preparing a meal for thirty people? It was in the gravy, the pumpkin, the - they even carved a couple of 'whiskey-melons' and carried them around on their chests for half an hour. So I didn't even get my bloody watermelon!"
Sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch - Knightley might have been happy to pull a few moves, but Scorpius was definitely going to play it safe - he handed her a glass of warm butterbeer and took a sip of his own. Rose gulped hers down, then wiped her mouth roughly in a move that would have made her father proud.
"Attractive," he said drily.
"Oh, shut up, Scorp, I spend enough time at work trying to be ladylike, surely you're not going to make me do it here, too?"
Work - right. He cleared his throat, awkwardly. He probably should ask her about that -
"Anyway, I'm not finished - did you honestly think a story about one of Fred and James' pranks would last less than thirty seconds?" She leaned back into the couch and stared at the ceiling. "Turns out - and both of them are perfectly aware of this, by the way - that not only is it illegal to produce that amount of Firewhiskey in a private home without a permit, but it's also on the list of restricted substances to produce by entirely magical means. So no sooner had we settled down for a peaceful Weasley get-together -"
He snorted.
"- than Burns and Blackhall from Magical Law Enforcement were knocking on our front door demanding the surrender of the perpetrators into bloody protective custody! They're damn lucky there are so many of us in the Ministry - and that James is Uncle Harry's son, and Blackhall wouldn't dare arrest the son of the Chosen One," she added under her breath.
"Tut, tut," Scorpius told her, pretending to peer over imaginary glasses. "Using family influence to get out of jail time. Your cousins should be ashamed of themselves."
She scowled at him. "Just get me another butterbeer."
"You know you love them." You know you love me, he'd been about to say, but he wasn't entirely sure he could pull it off casually without a tell-tale stumble...
He ducked his head into the pantry. "Speaking of family get-togethers. What are you doing Saturday week - wait, no, the week after?" he called out, pouring another two glasses. Butterbeer on tap - one of the surprisingly few advantages of having family money in a block of flats filled with starving twenty-somethings.
"Dunno, actually, I might have to check my oh-so-busy schedule. I get booked up so far in advance, you know. What are you offering?"
He looked up and was amused to see a faint blush slowly crossing her cheeks. Despite her jokes, he knew she was genuinely pleased with her new job - and the recognition that came with it, even if it did mean a much higher workload than her previous one. He knew she didn't like to 'go on about it', though, so he didn't push the matter.
"Five hours at the Malfoy dinner table. Black tie, probably, although I should probably confirm that. You'd be my plus-one, since no-one else seems interested in going with me. Remember, you almost came the year before last, but then you got that assignment to Paris?"
"That was last year," she corrected him absentmindedly. He noticed she'd picked up a sugar quill. "Do you mind if I get back to you on that one? I'd love to go, but I do actually have a work function on -"
Scorpius willed himself to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "Sure, don't worry about it. It was just a thought, no pressure."
She must have seen the disappointed look on his face, dammit, because she hastened to reassure him. "It's nothing definite, Scorp, I might still be able to make it. Or what about if I came in late, after work?"
He laughed, a little reluctantly. "What kind of boss makes you work weekends?"
"Oh, it's just old Prindle's farewell." She rolled her eyes. "He's Senior Head of one of the offices, I don't remember which. He used to be Head of the Department a few years ago, actually. But they fired him because of all the disastrous office parties he used to throw. Snuck in a jobberknoll the week before I started, the entire bloody Ministry had to communicate by memo until they captured the damn thing - but I'm going on about work again, aren't I?"
"I'm not entirely sure what the point of that story was, but you are entirely welcome to show up as late as you want. Mum and Dad wouldn't dream of throwing a party that ended before two in the morning." He raised his glass. "To parent-supplied alcohol!"
Rose giggled. Yes, her cheeks were definitely flushed. She put down the butterbeer she'd been cradling and stretched her arm out over the couch, her fingertips just managing to reach his shoulder. Not that she gave any sign of noticing, of course.
Scorpius shifted awkwardly, trying unsuccessfully to casually lean closer without her noticing. Unless -
He looked at her face again - the way the corners of her mouth turned up distractedly, the flecks of her eyes dancing in the lamp-light, her hair thrown out over the armrest.
The way his heart was beating stupidly fast at the sight of his ever-so-slightly tipsy best friend sprawled out over his couch.
Because this could be his chance - she'd rejected Knightley for some bizarre and inexplicable reason that he hadn't even tried to think through yet. But what if he didn't have to? What if it didn't matter? What if he could - what if he didn't need Knightley to - what if she was interested in -
"So I met this guy the other day," Rose announced cheerfully to the ceiling.
- him, Scorpius Malfoy -
Wait, what?
He tried to say something, but the words wouldn't leave his mouth. His heart was still hammering against his chest, but it was a slower, stronger beat now, a curious tension replacing the frantic desperation of before. He focused on the sound, trying to calm himself before he answered her.
"Well?" She turned to face him. "Aren't you curious?"
"Of course," he answered finally, relieved to have got the words out without stumbling. "Tell - tell me everything."
"Well, he was a bit of a git," she said bluntly. He tried not to wince.
"Uh -"
"He wasn't that bad, really. He listened to my goblin rants. Even your eyes start to droop after a few hours of that."
"A few hours? Just how long did you spend with this guy?"
She waved her hand vaguely. "Just long enough for him to tell me some crock story about dragon training."
So she hadn't believed him, huh? That was interesting... "What made you think he'd made it up?"
"He said he was a dragon tamer, Scorp! Do you know how many dragon trainers there are in Britain? About twenty, and Uncle Charlie's introduced me to practically all of them."
"That doesn't mean he was lying, I mean maybe he was just exaggerating, maybe he just cleans their stables or something -"
She snorted. "Shows how much you know about dragons. Of course they're not kept in stables, what kind of inhumane conditions do you think we keep them in? Dragons need space to - oh, whatever, Scorp. It's just..."
"Sugar quill?" Scorpius offered after a minute, not quite sure how to prompt her to continue.
She waved her hands. "I keep getting my hopes raised - and then trampled all over. Remember those guys from just after I got my new office, the ones who kept hitting on me? And I was so excited. And then I realised -" she snatched the sugar quill out of his hands - "and then I realised it was just because of my stupid promotion, and -"
"Rose, you know that's totally untrue, any man would be lucky to have you -"
And suddenly she was sobbing onto his shoulder and Scorpius had no idea what was going on. Her hair tickled his nose, making him want to sneeze, and the angle between her head and his neck was damned awkward, but overall he didn't mind the feeling.
"He seemed like a, you know, a bit of a player, but then he listened to my Gringotts rant and he seemed like he was actually interested. But he pulled that dragon crap and I realised he was just like the others. Just when I thought my love life was finally going somewhere!"
Okay. He had no idea what to do in this situation. In nearly ten years of knowing her, he'd never seen her like this. And considering his own situation - well. Relationship advice wasn't exactly his forte. Patting her back and giving her sugar quills hadn't seemed to work, so he decided to go for solid practicality instead.
He thumped her.
"What the hell did you do that for?" She'd lifted her head off his shoulder. And stood up. And was now jabbing her finger in his chest. That was an improvement, right? At least she'd stopped crying. "I'm in the middle of a bloody self-pitying rant, can't you give a girl a little space?"
"You're drunk."
"What's your point?"
"You're reading way too much into this than there actually is."
She threw the sugar quill at him.
"What the hell, Rose?"
"I know I'm overreacting!" she yelled. "He's just a random guy who felt like chatting me up! There is no conspiracy! He is not trying to humiliate me by setting me up! But you're right, I am bloody drunk, thank you Fred and James and your damn butterbeer on tap, and I haven't had a boyfriend in two years so I think I have the right to have a bloody rant every now and then!"
Scorpius stared at her in shock.
"Hang on, two years? The last one you told me about was Vern McKinnon in seventh year! Who's the -"
She threw up her hands and marched to the door. "Never mind. I've decided you're right, Scorp. I've been very - stupid. And you've told me just how to fix it."
"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?"
She opened the door. "I'm going to owl Roland Knightley."