Disclaimer: I'm a mechatronic engineering student, not JK Rowling

A/N: Sorry, uploaded a not-quite-finished version at first, hopefully you're reading this version! Thanks very much for the reviews on the last chapter... all of them :)

- And then she was kissing him, her mouth capturing his, and finally all that energy had somewhere to go, discharging itself through her mouth, her lips, her fingertips against his neck.

He groaned, and pulled her closer, his own arms wrapping around her waist. Her mouth was soft, yielding, but hesitant, all at the same time. He could feel her skin through her thin shirt, warm not just on her face but on her waist as well. He dragged his fingers over her back as she leaned into him, deepening the kiss.

Rose, he thought he whispered, but he couldn't tell if he'd actually said the words - and he didn't much care. Rose's tongue flicked awkwardly over the corner of his lips, and suddenly he couldn't contain the burst of euphoria that rose up from his stomach -

He was kissing Rose! He, Scorpius Malfoy, was kissing Rose Weasley, and she was kissing him back -

Well, she was kissing someone back.

Rose must have sensed his slight withdrawal, because she tried to draw away, but he wouldn't - couldn't - let her. He didn't care that she was kissing Edgar Spore. He didn't care that she wasn't kissing Scorpius Malfoy. Because right now her mouth - her tongue - was doing crazy things to his, things that made him shiver from head to toe and wonder what else she could do with her -

He groaned again, pulling her into his body so she was pressed flush against him, the tilt of her head pronounced as she finally opened her eyes and looked straight up at him.

Edgar, he knew she'd say, and he knew he couldn't let her say it. The outside world, his whole pretence, their strictly bounded friendship - none of it existed right now, right here, with Rose Weasley in his arms and her tongue in his mouth. He pushed his mouth against hers, abandoning whatever technique he'd had in favour of a desperate need to keep her here forever.

She moved her hand so it cupped his cheek. Closing her eyes, she sighed, and ran her fingertips down his jaw. He hadn't shaved - as Edgar or Scorpius - and the hair bristled at her touch, sending goosebumps down his leg. Still she continued to kiss him, their mouths moving together as he tried to tell her everything he wished he could say for real.

I'm Scorpius. A nibble on her lower lip, and a soft moan she didn't bother to hide.

You don't want Finch. A flick of his tongue across the corner of her mouth.

You don't want Edgar. A graze of his fingers across the plain of her back, as he pulled her even closer.

You want me. An insistent prod against her mouth, demanding access that she willingly gave.

Scorpius. A groan -

I want you.

"This is a respectable bookstore, not a Hogwarts broom closet!"

Scorpius jumped, untangling himself from Rose, and stared up at the source of the hiss. "Weasley! I -"

Since when did Fred Weasley work at Flourish and Blotts? Dammit, Fred was probably the last person Scorpius would have picked to discover him and Rose at the back of his store...

"Spent a lot of time in Hogwarts broom closets yourself, Fred?" Rose asked brightly, while he continued to stare blankly. Where had she learned how to deal with -

Oh. Right. The Weasley family. Rose had had a lot of experience bluffing her way through these kinds of situations.

Fred couldn't resist a smirk. "None of your business, young lady, but if you don't mind, that old lady in the corner is about to have a heart attack, and I highly doubt that'd be good for my own business, so if you wouldn't mind getting the hell out of my store..."

"Yes, sir!" Rose said with a salute. "I always aim to please."

He whispered something under his breath, something about "I could see that" and "proving quite thoroughly", and escorted them to the door, past the disapproving glares of the woman in the corner.

"Since when is it your store, anyway?"

Fred gave his own salute. "Since I'm about to get a promotion to floor manager."

"You do realise that old lady in the corner is Bathsheda Babbling, right?" Rose whispered, as they were ushered through the door. "If mum's stories about her youth are anything to go by, I highly doubt she's in any medical danger whatsoever."

He shrugged. "Gotta look good in front of the boss," he told her, with a significant look at the front counter. "And speaking of your mother..."

"She isn't going to hear about this, so I'm not sure how she's involved in this incident."

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Fred called after them as they stepped out into the street. Rose laughed.

The sun had set while they'd been inside. With a last glance towards the store - a glance reciprocated by Fred in the doorway, with a wink - he finally felt himself relax, and as they walked he suddenly felt the urge to laugh.

"Let it out," Rose told him - and he had no choice but to comply, didn't he? He began to laugh, starting with a smirk, then a chuckle, until finally both of them were clutching their sides and Scorpius had to move off the path to calm himself down.

He stopped, suddenly, and grabbed her arm. "That was fun," he said seriously. "We - we should do it again sometime."

Rose looked up at him, with a smile that was both adorable and - something else. "You want a repeat performance?" she asked, a glint in her eye.

"I -" Repeat performance?

She wriggled closer to him, taking advantage of the darkness and the cover of the shop they were standing in front of. Her lips teased closer to his, and he felt his heart beat faster and his breath come in jerks -

She pecked his cheek, and gave him a grin. "Maybe you'll get one - when we're not standing in the middle of Diagon Alley."

Right. Diagon Alley. He touched his cheek, and gave her a lopsided grin. Rose Weasley had just kissed him, for the second time, in the middle of the street. Surely he could be forgiven for feeling a little lopsided himself...

Rose turned around, and began walking down the alley again. The rush of people heading home from work had long since subsided, but the late-night rush hadn't yet started. The street was nearly empty, and Scorpius was reminded of the last time he'd walked down this road with Rose - it had been twilight then, too, and he'd felt the same giddy feeling of happiness -

No, it wasn't the same. Nowhere near equal to this feeling. He looked over at her, knowing he was grinning like an idiot, but not particularly caring. Rose had kissed him. Rose had kissed him multiple times, he could now say. Sure, there weren't any buskers, or any romantic jazz filtering through the streets tonight. But this silence was infinitely better - because she was here, and not just as his friend -

"Penny?" Rose asked, and he blushed.

"I've had a very good time tonight," he said honestly.

"Had?" she asked, laughing. "It's barely eight. The evening's just beginning."

He looked carefully at her, trying to decide if there was an invitation hidden in there - and immediately felt ashamed of what he'd hoped that invitation might be. He felt the blush rise further up his cheeks, and hoped desperately that she couldn't see it in the darkness...

"Well, I've had a good time all day," he said, stumbling over his words as he rushed to cover the silence. "All day. In the morning, even. And you weren't even there."

"You're rambling."

"I like you."

She stared, and just for a moment her gaze turned wistful. "I like you, too," she said after a minute, then smiled. "You're so simple. Uncomplicated. I've really enjoyed tonight, too."

"Want to do it again sometime? I'm serious."

"I'm serious too. I'd love to get to know you better."

He caught his breath. "To show yourself you can take risks?"

"Maybe to show myself I can live in the moment."

So could he. He reached over, and - feeling like a schoolboy again - grabbed her hand, grasping it in his. She looked up at him, and for the moment that their eyes met, Scorpius forgot about everything - work, bosses, Finch, potions - everything except the girl in front of him, looking into his eyes, her red curls wisping slightly in the breeze like the autumn leaves that shared their colour. He grinned, breaking their gaze to look down at their joined hands, and wondered how just holding hands could make him feel so poetic...

"Got any plans for the evening?" Rose asked casually.

He grimaced. Way to break the spell, Rose. "Work," he muttered - then caught himself. Dammit, Scorpius, the spell was on Edgar, not you. "Finding it, I mean. Got a contact today."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really? Let me know if I can help you with it -"

"No!" he said, much too loudly, and she almost jumped. "I - it's a masculine pride thing," he said quickly. Two slips in a row. He really had to get back into Edgar mode.

He really didn't want to.

"Well. You know what I'm doing tonight. Curling up in front of the fire - sans book, thanks to your little performance in Flourish and Blotts -"

"My little performance?" he teased. "If I recall correctly, you were a very willing participant..."

She raised herself on tiptoes to kiss him again, this time on the corner of his mouth. "It still leaves me without entertainment for the night..."

He couldn't help himself. "Rose! You've just met me!"

She sighed. "I know. I wouldn't really invite you in. I'd chicken out at the last minute, I'm sorry. Kissing you in the bookstore will have to be all the risk-taking I'll do for tonight."

He was glad she wasn't going to go home with a man she'd - for all she knew - only just met.

But still. Damn his gentlemanly instincts!

He changed the subject. "What books do you like reading, then? I never got the chance to find out, after all."

"Lots of things. Fantasy stories, mostly. Adventures about unicorns and centaurs and legends and treasure."

"You don't get enough of that at work?"

She shrugged. "I wouldn't work there if I didn't love the subject. Other creatures are fascinating. Why wouldn't I want to read adventures involving them?"

"Muggle or wizard?" he asked, and she looked at him curiously.

"Wizard," she answered finally. "Purely because they do them right. They're not just caricatures from some ancient long-lost old wives' tale. But sometimes Muggle stories can be interesting. Reducing something to its most basic characteristics can tell you a lot about it."

"What would Muggle stories say about you?" he asked. "If they could reduce you down to a sentence or a paragraph."

She cocked her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think I could say, actually - can anyone, really? I think I'm much too complicated to sum up in a sentence."

"Maybe a complete stranger could."

"Now where would I find a complete stranger?"

He laughed. "Don't look at me. I'm definitely at least on friendly acquaintance level now."

"You're right, though, I think," she said thoughtfully, nodding. "Maybe you need a complete stranger to tell you what you are. I mean, that's how they store you, isn't it? Inside their heads? 'Rose Weasley, five ten, nine inches of dragon heartstring...'"

"What about 'Rose Weasley, great hair, beautiful laugh, strangely attracted to the unemployed'?"

She touched her hair self-consciously. "Is that what a certain friendly acquaintance thinks?"

"It's what a certain friendly acquaintance will confirm, if you kiss him again."

"In that case..."

She kissed Edgar again in the shadows. He closed his eyes, and imagined her kissing Scorpius in the light.

"You're barely forty-five, Mother, you're hardly on your deathbed."

"And you're nearly twenty-one, and your father was married at that age."

"Merlin, Mother, this is the twenty-first century. No-one gets married at twenty-one. I'm not expecting to get married for - oh, ten years, at least."

He threw the figure out randomly, not particularly caring about its value. This was turning out to be a most unpromising start to an evening he'd been greatly looking forward to.

"I'm not telling you to pick out the wedding flowers, for crying out loud," Astoria said impatiently, clicking her fingernails against her glass. "All I'm saying is you need to start thinking about it. Despite your little dodges, you are the heir to a rather large estate. You have responsibilities, Scorpius. And if you don't act on them soon - well, the prey in question might be caught by somebody else."

"You mean Rose."

She waved her glass. "Of course I mean Rose. I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart. Yes, Rose. If I recall correctly, your little friend was about to snag her from under your eyes."

"He's six foot three, Mother, he's hardly little. And why are you suddenly so concerned about me getting married? I'm not even in a relationship with the girl. A girl who is probably the most unsuitable choice for a Malfoy bride I could possibly have selected, by the way."

"That's your father's problem, isn't it?"

He noticed she didn't answer the question.

She lowered her voice as she continued. "You say you're not in a relationship with her. I'm going to be magnanimous, and add a 'yet' to the end of that statement. How is that plan of yours going?"

He grinned inwardly, but kept his face impassive. "It's fine, Mother. There's no urgency any longer. Don't worry about it. You'll be waiting a long time if you're looking for me to propose."

"Oh, be quiet about that, it was just a friendly reminder. Subtlety is wasted on you when it comes to these sorts of things. As long as you remember your position, I've got better things to do than nag you about it like a fishwife. Such as making sure those centerpieces are actually in the centre of the tables," she called out loudly, and the house-elf nearest to them jumped.

"Be nice," he chided. "You've been running them ragged all afternoon."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "I'm paying them good money to be here."

Which was true, in a sense. House-elves refused to take money as payment, but in the last few decades it had become more and more common to reward house-elves in the form of gifts. In Lylee's case, mostly sweets. Astoria didn't admit it, but Scorpius knew she personally prepared the small baskets that appeared at Lylee's door every Tuesday.

"She is coming tonight, isn't she?" she asked.

Scorpius nodded. "She'll be late. I told her to come in time for dinner."

Astoria waved her glass again, and the crystal shimmered in the light. "All she's missing is the pre-dinner cocktails. Work, I presume?"

"A business meeting, relating to an upcoming case, I believe."

A wistful look appeared briefly in Astoria's eyes, before disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared. "I would have preferred it if she had attended as your partner," she said, but Scorpius had a feeling it wasn't what she had been thinking of saying.

"Of course she's coming as my partner, I invited her."

"Still. I wouldn't have minded seeing you walk down those stairs together."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "I'll escort her in to dinner, I promise."

"That's a given, dear." She kissed his cheek. "Now, I really do have arrangements I need to make. The guests are going to be here in half an hour, and I can hardly greet them looking like this, can I?"

He laughed as she walked - sailed - off. She looked beautiful, as she knew perfectly well. For someone who complained that she was practically on her deathbed, age had been remarkably kind to her.

Spending her days at beauty spas probably had something to do with it, too.

He looked around the room, alone now except for the two house-elves. Which wasn't odd, at Malfoy Manor. Despite the growing chill outside, it was warm in this ballroom, thanks to the lamps burning on the walls and more than a few warming charms. He should know - he'd placed them there himself.

He checked his pocket watch, feeling a bit like an idiot as he did so. He wasn't used to wearing dress robes - especially not ones as fancy as these. Until this year, Mother had always let him wear plain robes to these dinner parties.

But this year he was trying to impress a girl.

Ten minutes to seven. He sighed. Just because Mother always arrived half an hour late didn't mean everyone else would. Thankfully, the house-elves seemed to be operating on a more reasonable clock, because the decorations looked complete - as far as he could tell - and small tables had been set up in the entry hall for drinks and snacks, while their guests waited for Astoria to finish reapplying her lipstick. Or whatever it was women did upstairs in moments like this.

Scorpius suspected it had more to do with wanting to make an entrance down those stairs herself.

"Merlin, I love seeing you in dress robes."

He turned to the voice. "Get out of here. Wait in the hall like everyone else."

"Scorpius, mate, what kind of way is that to greet your best friend?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he walked over to the ballroom door. "You'll miss Mother's entrance if you're tucked away in the ballroom."

"Oh, please, she won't be here until at least half past. Why do you think she always makes you come to these things?"

"To find me a wife?"

Finch laughed. "Back onto that again, is she? No, it's so you can greet all the guests at the door, so she doesn't have to. Where's Draco?"

"Dunno. Upstairs? I haven't been paying much attention, to be honest, what with all this going on all day."

"Upstairs, huh?" Finch winked. "With your mother?"

Thanks for the image, Finch. "Surely not. She'd wrinkle her dress, and you know how she feels about wrinkles."

"Just saying. That's what I'd be doing if I had to spend the next five hours dancing attendance on the idiot wizarding elite. Giving myself something to help me get through the tedium."

"Watch your mouth. Those idiot wizarding elite are probably standing right behind you." He grinned. "Do you include me and Rose in that category?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I've never called you elite in my life."

"What did that one line in the Ministry brochure say about the Department of Mysteries? Something about 'an elite, highly secretive body'?"

Finch snorted. "Fair point. You've got to be pretty elite to deal with Bletchley on a daily basis, that's for sure."

"Speaking of Bletchley - have you heard anything more about the new boss?"

Finch straightened. "Actually, yeah. It's -"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Tell me later, okay? Time to go do my duty..."

He walked quickly over to the large doors, and felt sorry for whoever was standing outside. The front doors of Malfoy Manor were still intimidating. Efforts had been made inside the house to make it warm and inviting, but whenever Scorpius stood outside those doors - or the gates - he was reminded that it was all just a facade, an illusion. At least it wasn't raining outside. Now that was gloomy.

"Lord and Lady George Barbary," Lylee said loudly, reading their card.

Scorpius held back a snicker. The magical world didn't have titles, but Lord Barbary, having had an ancestor in the Muggle House of Lords, was determined to introduce the custom. He smiled at the two, who looked around the room disdainfully. "We are the first to arrive?" Lady Barbary asked, not deigning to look at him.

He gestured to the empty room. "As you can see." He winked at Finch, standing in the corner behind a potted palm. He wasn't hiding, as such - Lady Barbary just chose not to see what wasn't convenient. "Our house-elf Lylee would be glad to bring you a drink, while you wait. Lady Mary, there are couches in the corner if you would prefer to stand."

He felt like a butler. He always did at occasions like this one. Lord and Lady Barbary weren't the only ones in his parents' circle with delusions of grandeur - and some had more than delusions. The whole circle was upper-class, and every one of them knew it.

What had Mother said earlier? You are the heir to a rather large estate... you have responsibilities... Someday all this would be his. Someday he'd have his own son, awkwardly greeting his parents' friends while the parents in question entertained themselves upstairs, in jewels and silks and roses.

Lord Barbary nodded curtly at him as he walked past, and he felt about a foot shorter than he actually was. How were these people friends with anyone, let alone his parents?

He knew the answer. They weren't, but their social position demanded that they receive an invitation. Lady Mary was a Selwyn, a pureblood family stretching back to the Middle Ages. Was that what he was signing himself up for? Having to invite the wizarding elite to every dinner party for some stupid society reason?

He thought of Rose and the Weasleys, and the last party they'd had. Their family reunion, x weeks ago. Where Fred and James had played pranks on the food, and everyone had gathered around and shouted out to people on the other end of the table. And magical law enforcement had been called, and Rose had sighed and chalked it up to another day in the Weasley household. Astoria would have retreated to her room for a week, dreading having to face her friends after such a scandal...

But the Malfoy family probably had more reason than most to avoid the attention of the law.

He went back over to Finch. "I see what you mean about the idiot wizarding elite," he whispered to Finch. "The evening's barely started, and I'm already exhausted. I always forget how snobby their friends are."

"I could do the greetings for you, if you like," Finch suggested, leaning against the wall. "I get it all the time with Grandma's friends. I imagine Muggle snobs work much the same as wizard ones."

Scorpius laughed, but before he could continue, another set of guests arrived at the door. He was kept busy for another fifteen minutes at least, greeting people he hadn't spoken more than ten words to in the last three years. He felt a sigh of relief when he saw his father come down the stairs, straightening his bow tie as he walked.

"Good evening, Father," Scorpius said formally, and Draco nodded distractedly.

"I'll take over the greetings, if you like."

Scorpius nodded. They were his friends, after all.

"Blah and Blah Blah," Lylee announced, as Scorpius went back to the corner where Finch was still standing, whiskey glass in hand.

"I see Lylee's made sure you're refreshed."

Finch laughed. "She likes me. You should have seen the look on Parkinson's face when she served me first instead of her. I bet she doesn't even know who I am."

"You're an eligible gentleman between the ages of seventeen and eighty," Scorpius said drily. "Of course she knows who you are."

Finch shuddered eloquently. "Imagine spending the rest of your life with that."

"I'm sure she has redeeming characteristics."

"Name one."

"She has her own flat. You could move out of your grandmother's place."

"Out of the frying pan, into the fire?" Finch gave Scorpius a significant look. "Speaking of eligible gentlemen, and by extension eligible young ladies - is Rose coming tonight, by any chance?"

Finch didn't know? "Yes," he said cautiously. "But probably not for a while. She's coming for dinner, after work. Didn't she tell you?"

"Why would she tell me? You're her date."

Scorpius narrowed his eyes, then made a decision. He strode out of the entry hall, gesturing at Finch to follow him, down a passage that led to the library. "I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to give me an honest answer. The whole answer. No avoiding the question or missing any points out."

Finch frowned, closing the door behind him. "This is about Rose, isn't it?"

"What exactly is between you and her?" Scorpius asked directly. "She says there's nothing, but you've been spending all this time together - giving each other gifts -" He broke off. "And I saw you at the Leaky Cauldron together."

"There is absolutely nothing between us," Finch replied, just as directly, looking straight into his eyes. "We've gotten to know each other better in the last few weeks, yeah. But I promise you, there is nothing romantic, or sexual, or any feelings whatsoever that go beyond the platonic. We're friends, mate, and I'm not interested in her that way."

"The Leaky Cauldron -"

Finch burst out laughing. "Can I tell you something about the Leaky Cauldron?"

Scorpius looked at him warily.

"It has a very sexy, very charming bartender."

"Mrs Longbottom?" Scorpius exclaimed, and Finch rolled his eyes.

"Miss Longbottom," he corrected. "Honestly, Scorp, you're an idiot sometimes."

Scorpius frowned. "If whatsherface Longbottom -"

"Augusta."

"- is really your current interest, I hardly think snuggling with another girl up against the bar is the way to show it."

"Snuggling? Who even says that?"

Scorpius waved his hands impatiently. "Well, me, obviously. And you haven't answered the question."

Finch looked away. "Rose was giving me romantic advice, can we leave it at that?"

It wasn't the full story, and they both knew it. But Scorpius was satisfied on the main point, even if Finch still hadn't explained what had happened that night. But if both Finch and Rose insisted that there was another explanation, even if they wouldn't share it -

"As long as you and Rose -"

"We're not. I promise. Scout's honour."

"What?"

"Never mind."

- Well, Scorpius was inclined to believe them.

"His name's Rupert Flint," Finch confided over the dessert bowls.

Scorpius swallowed his mouthful of strawberries and cream. "Never heard of him," he mumbled, then caught a glimpse of his mother glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. "She's on the other side of the table, and she can still tell I'm eating with my mouth full."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "You're not exactly taking great pains to conceal it."

"Oh, please, everyone here is so drunk, they're hardly going to notice the kid at the end of the table."

"I can hear you chewing from here," she said primly, but he could see the laughter in her eyes. "Didn't your mother teach you table manners?"

"I've had three years living out of home to unlearn them, haven't I?"

Finch coughed. "I wouldn't be so flippant about Flint if I were you. He doesn't have the best reputation."

Scorpius sat up a little straighter at that. The Department's academic requirements were rigorous - so Scorpius knew Finch wasn't talking about his skill as an Unspeakable. "Is he the type to bother about trainees?"

"He's the type that's really bothered about employees who aren't being as productive as they could be," Finch replied significantly.

Scorpius groaned. "Such as employees who haven't submitted a project report in three years?"

Rose looked at him, looking worried. "I thought your project was going well."

"Not that well," he admitted, not looking at her. "Listen, Finch, how long d'you reckon it'll be before he takes over?"

Finch shrugged. "Bletchley's only required to give a month's notice. And it's already been a week. I don't imagine he'll mess around once he gets the job, either."

"So I've got three weeks to finish my project."

"Yes. And, since technically we're now in public, that's all we should probably say on the matter. "

Rose turned the conversation to family, as the plates started disappearing from the table. He'd known this was coming, of course. He'd been pushing the limits of their patience for three years, for Pete's sake. But Bletchley hadn't minded, as long as he was doing something. Flint sounded like the sort of man who'd fire him on the spot.

"Scorpius? Are you even listening?"

What? He shook his head to clear it. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Victoire and Teddy are getting married," she almost squealed. "At Christmas, probably, or maybe January. They just told us last night."

That was nice. He liked Teddy. He'd always gone out of his way to make Scorpius feel welcome, on the few occasions he'd visited the Weasley house. "How long have they been together now?"

Rose shrugged. "No idea. They're one of those couples who just slid together, without us ever really noticing." She frowned. "Well, except for that camping incident. Which was the Christmas just before I went to Hogwarts - Merlin, is it that long already? But that's another story. Everyone knew they were going to get together sometime..."

She caught Scorpius' eye, and for a moment they stared at each other, until Finch cleared his throat. His heart was beating faster, Scorpius suddenly noticed.

Had Rose been talking about Teddy and Victoire at all?

"Well, congratulations to them both," Finch said loudly, just as the band behind him struck up a ... . The guests all turned to face the dance floor, as Draco stood up and offered his hand to his wife. She placed hers in his, and smiled up at him as they opened the dancing. Scorpius watched them, a little wistful at the obvious bond between them. Their friendships might be fake, but their relationship was definitely not...

"Ow! What did you do that for?"

"Don't look at me like that! I'm just your mother's proxy," Rose hissed out of the corner of her mouth. "You're supposed to ask me to dance."

"Oh, crap, really?" He'd totally forgotten about it, and now Astoria was glaring at him over the table for neglecting his family duties.

Rose rolled her eyes. "My dancing isn't that bad," she said. "Come on."

"I didn't mean -"

"Of course you didn't."

He pushed his chair out abruptly, and held out his hand. Mirroring Astoria, she placed her hand in his, more gently than he'd expected. He wasn't used to seeing her in formal situations. In his mind she was always outside with her family, or lecturing him about goblin rights, or kissing him in the middle of Diagon Alley -

That last was a recent addition to his memories. A much-welcomed one, too.

But tonight she was with Scorpius, and he'd never seen her look so beautiful as she did now, looking up at him with that smile on her face. He'd seen her looking sexy, adorable, pretty - but tonight, as she took his hand and he led her to the dance floor, he felt a jolt of sensation rush through his body. Something that had nothing to do with desire or kisses - though he couldn't truthfully say that those emotions weren't present too - but everything to do with her, and the fact that he was here, with her, and he was holding her close, wrapped in his arms. He couldn't put a name to it, but one word came sharply to his mind.

Mine.

It was a possessive word, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

She looked into his eyes again, as they fell into step with the music. Blue, like her father's, and he stared right back, taking note of every fleck and marking. "You look beautiful tonight," he murmured, and she blushed, breaking her gaze away.

"Thanks," she muttered, her cheeks still pink. "You look quite nice too."

"Is that all the compliment I'm going to get tonight?" he teased, and she looked back up again, breaking the spell. That strange, possessive feeling had disappeared, as quickly as it had come, and he was relieved to discover it.

"You know you look nice. There are mirrors all along the back wall. I'm sure you can tell for yourself what you look like."

"Don't you know anything about being a dance partner? You should be complimenting me on my wit, my charm -"

She laughed out loud at that. "You're funny."

"In a laughing at me or with me way?"

She smirked. "I do know something about being a dance partner. I'm supposed to be mysterious and flirtatious. Answering that question would be telling."

He laughed awkwardly. "I hardly think you need to flirt with me."

Dammit why did he always screw up his chances Merlin he was an idiot -

"But we're dancing," she whispered, leaning closer. "The outside world doesn't matter when you're dancing."

His heart was definitely beating faster now. "Rose -"

And suddenly she was far away from him again, a smile on her face but distance in her eyes.

Dammit, he had screwed it up, again. He'd reminded her that he was Scorpius, her friend, and that she wasn't supposed to be flirting with him. Merlin, he was an idiot - of the absolute worst sort -

"Are you having a good time tonight?" he asked stiffly.

She looked away. "Not flirting doesn't mean we're reduced to drawing-room talk, surely?"

"What would you like to talk about, then? Teddy and Victoire?"

"No!"

He spun her around suddenly, unexpectedly, but she recovered in time to continue the move. It left them facing the same direction, her back pressed up against his chest, and for the split second their bodies were touching he closed his eyes and savoured the feeling. He was bloody useless at flirting with words - but that didn't mean he couldn't show her how he felt another way.

A less threatening way.

Was that why she'd moved away so suddenly? Because their normal verbal exchanges had turned into something... more?

The dance ended, and Rose dropped his hand immediately, thanking him for the dance with a tight smile. "See, that wasn't so hard. Astoria would be proud."

She wasn't going to turn what had happened into a family duty, dammit. He watched her walk back to the table, but in his mind he saw her face as she'd pulled back from him during that dance.

...I'm absolutely terrified of the consequences...

Her words from Wednesday floated back into his head, and suddenly they made a curious kind of sense.

I don't want to ruin things with...them.

He remembered that pause clearly, as the words played over and over in his mind.

What had she really meant to say?