Disclaimer: I only own Harry Potter in my dreams :)
Predictable
Scorpius Malfoy was unpredictable. One did not simply predict Scorpius Malfoy's next move. He was spontaneous. Unexpected. He was quite possibly the farthest human being away from average.
Or at least, that's what he liked to think.
His mates that accompanied him to the silver and green of the Slytherin table told him that he was elusive.
The materialistic girls hanging off his arm in line to become his next distraction told him that he was mysterious.
His professors that fell for his "good boy" façade told him that he was perplexing.
Rose Weasley told him that that was complete and utter bullshit.
Because Rose Weasley was not in the least bit surprised when the corners of the eleven-year-old boy's mouth were slightly turned down when the sorting hat had called out Slytherin. Because the hat had told her young self that Ravenclaw was the perfect fit, but after at least three minutes of begging to be placed in Gryffindor, the hat had finally given in. What would her family have thought if she was the first one of the family to be placed elsewhere? And as she walked down to the loud applause of the Gryffindor table, the same frown Scorpius had worn was mirrored across her face.
Or when his patronus had turned into a small, fluffy bunny, and not a snake, or a ferret, or any other creature that labeled him the son of the former death eater, Draco Malfoy. Because in her third year Rose had been relaxing on the grass surrounding the lake when she had suddenly heard Scorpius's voice coming from the shade of a tree nearby. He was lying on his stomach, petting a small white rabbit that had wandered from the forest. He had talked to it in a sweet voice, as if he was talking to a small child. Rose had sworn she even heard him giggle once. She had just chuckled quietly to herself and turned away, but it was that moment that Rose realized that the boy was not really as tough as he seemed.
She wasn't surprised even when a slight flash of shame had crossed his pale, pointed face when she had seen a girl not-so-innocently drag him into an empty broom cupboard. Because once in her sixth year Scorpius and her had been potions partners and he had told her that he needed girl advice. Rose had been taken aback because they did not know each other beyond the occasional hello, but had none the less said she would try to help him. "I really like this one girl," he had said, "but I don't think she likes me back and-and-I don't know what to do Rose." He had sounded flustered and nervous, and something else she couldn't place. Relieved maybe? As politely as she could, she had tried to tell him that he could not keep… 'running around' with girls (that is if running around meant hooking up). His eyes had widened and he had grabbed Rose's wrist. In a very serious tone he had said, "I don't actually do anything with those girls Rose. Not really. They try, but I always tell them no." Rose had just nodded her head silently. When the class was dismissed, she had looked back at Scorpius to see him looking straight into her eyes. She smiled at him slightly and then turned away, but not before she caught the large smile that was spreading across his face.
She had not even been all that surprised when he had pulled her away from her friends after double potions and asked her for her help in their most recent lesson in charms. Because it was seventh year and NEWTS were coming up and she had seen Scorpius in the library numerous times. He was always surrounded by textbooks about charms. She had once watched him practice simple spells, over and over again, but each time they had ended with a small explosion bursting from his wand. This had surprised Rose, because she had seen Scorpius's tests from other classes and each one had been given an O. But Rose had never had charms with the Slytherins. After nearly an hour of watching him struggle with basic skills, Rose had come over and showed him what he was doing wrong. In only five minutes he had them all perfectly and a smile spread across his face. Rose started to head back down to her common room and had just barely caught the thank you he had whispered.
And that was why when he has kissed her in the most passionate kiss she had ever felt in front of everyone in the Great Hall (which maybe might have surprised her just a little); she had not pulled away, but instead had kissed him back. Because he only appeared to be elusive and mysterious and perplexing. Really he was just misunderstood. But Rose, Rose understood.
A/N: I often find that when I write, I understand the story, but other people don't. So if you have any question, comments, or critiques, please leave a review!