The Next Step

The brains I've inherited from my mother died out on me, drawing a huge blank.

Every nerve in my body was alert, the feeling of my lips on his magnified a hundred times. I was all too aware that his lips were soft and smooth, the tip of his nose barely brushing my cheek. My own eyes were tightly shut; I was too afraid to see his expression. I was frozen in place, not knowing what to do next.

It was when he put his hands on my shoulders that I came to my senses. My eyes flung open again, and I took a step away from him while he pulled me away firmly at the same time. I fought the blush that threatened to taint my cheeks as I glanced at him. His expression was carefully impassive, the grey eyes deliberately avoiding my gaze as he looked over my shoulder. He stood there stiffly with his arms glued to his sides; if he wasn't breathing so heavily, I would've guessed he turned into a statue.

A full minute passed in silence as I was debating to myself. Should I break the ice or not? I pondered over this for a brief moment, shuffling my feet out of a nervous habit. I finally opened my mouth, ready to blurt whatever came first in my mind when I found that he was smirking.

"What?" I asked snappily. He merely rolled his eyes, suppressing an infuriating smile at something. Maybe he's turning crazy, I thought gloomily, watching this strange scene happen. My face fell into an ugly scowl as he snickered again, this time letting it escape. I definitely liked him better when he was a rock.

"Instead of wasting your breath on me, Weasley," he drawled, and I felt a pang when he used my last name. Were we such strangers to each other now? "I suggest you turn around and try to fix the problem at hand."

I gaped at him, confused. I was right; he really was crazy. Sighing at me impatiently, he reluctantly grabbed my shoulders again and spun me around to the sight before me. My jaw dropped even further to the floor.

Every single child was trying to peck each other on the cheek. The next ten minutes whirled by with a blur as I ran around madly, trying to stop kids from kissing each other while Scorpius was rolling on the floor, clutching at his sides as he roared with laughter. That jerk. My yells of "Stop!" and "What are you doing!?" as I ran after these toddlers were fruitless; I could've been shouting at a super-fast, energetic rabbits for all it was worth.

When Elvis Presley said that imitation was the greatest form of flattery, he had no idea what he was talking about.

My curly dark red hair was already escaping from my ponytail in my frenzied state, looking as if it was electrically charged. When I finally separated the boys from the girls singlehandedly, no thanks to Scorpius, I was panting heavily. Beads of perspiration glistened on my forehead and I could feel the collar of my shirt getting slightly damp. I had never gotten this much exercise in forever.

"But Rosie," Mark whined loudly, tugging at the leg of my jeans. "How come you two get to kiss and we don't?"

Cries of "Yeah!" filled the room, all looking indignant that I ruined their fun. Sorry, but I want to keep my job, I was weary when I thought about this. This had been my job for two years already; if the parents found out that their children were kissing each other because their caretakers were doing it in front of them, I'd be kicked out for sure.

I sat down, hugging him gently. "Only adults get to do it," I said. Everybody under the age of six (which was everyone, save me and Scorpius) nodded solemnly, accepting this news in disappointment. I was relieved. I wasn't going to get chased by angry mobs of parents after all. Mary soon started bouncing on the balls of her feet, demanding us to read a story before their nap time. I happily obliged, ordering Scorpius to get the book. As long as there was no crying, I was glad.

We all huddled in the reading corner, perched on top of cushions and comfortable blankets, waiting for Scorpius to come back with the books. When the children started to get restless and there was no sign of him, I stood up, promising them that I would be back in a minute and to stay out of trouble. Needless to say, they all agreed and looked like little angels.

I loved children. When I grow up, I want to have at least three kids of my own.

Briskly, I walked out of the room into the miniature library that was conveniently right next door. I caught a glimpse of light blonde hair in the children's section and half-ran towards his direction. Even if the children promised to be good, I wanted to be safe than to be sorry.

"What are you doing just standing there, Malfoy?" I hissed- after all, it was a library, no matter how small it was. I swore I saw him flinch before composing his face back into the stoic mask.

"I'm choosing which book we should read out to them," he replied easily, although his grey eyes were cold. I stared back unwaveringly, silently hoping that he wouldn't read me like he used to during our Hogwarts years, as I was currently feeling uneasy. I was able to understand and know him inside and out, but now he felt foreign; a figure that used to stand out was now another stranger in any crowd.

I suddenly felt tired. "Choose anything and let's get back quickly before the kids do anything else," I mumbled. He frowned at my sudden change of behaviour, but did what I told him to do. We both walked back at a steady pace in silence.

How was it that only a few minutes ago I was ready to do anything for a brief moment of quietness, but now all I wanted to do is escape the silence?

"Weasley," he said suddenly, his voice almost as icy as his eyes.

"What?" I snapped. Our footsteps never faltered, and I could see the mahogany door only a few feet away.

"What the hell happened back there?" He demanded when we stood in front of the door. Involuntarily, my face scrunched up to make a face, feeling the blush creeping to my face.

"Just forget about it," I replied flatly. He snorted slightly as I opened the door at my response.

"Fat chance," he said, walking in first. "I'm going to be scarred for life, so I'd like to know the bloody reason why you did what you did."

I was pretty sure that smoke was rising from my ears. "If you're so damned curious, we'll talk about it after our shifts." Naturally, I was half blinded in my fit of rage, so I collided into him when he suddenly halted. I rubbed nose which had painfully hit his rock-hard shoulder, and glared at him. His jaw was open slightly, looking shocked. Following his gaze, I saw the cutest, most unexpected sight.

The kids were sprawled on the floor, already fast asleep. I smiled, looking at them with a sudden rush of love. Children were so innocent and sweet, so predictable and unpredictable at the same time. I bent down and carefully scooped up two children out of the sleeping bunch.

"Could you open that door for me please?" I asked, pointing at another door with my toe. He opened it, and wedged a toy under the door so that it would stay wide open. With the two children in my arms, I trudged quietly into the dark room where rows of small beds were placed, and laid them in their separate beds.

If I had to choose which my favourite room was, I'd say that the Napping Room would be close to first with the Play Room. This room was painted completely black with little starry dots everywhere. Amazingly, these stars would change their positions to match that night's sky. On rare occasions, there would be a falling star shooting across the walls, alerting us that there would be a shooting star that night.

I gingerly laid both of them on separate beds and stretched my arms. Man, I needed to exercise more often. Without a moment's hesitation, I walked back out, not giving my eyes enough time to adjust to the sudden light as I made my way to take more kids. With Scorpius soon following my suit after I glowered dangerously at him, this continued on until I held the last pair of children and put them in bed.

We both collapsed against the beach-painted walls of the Play Room, groaning as we massaged our arms. "I never knew this job would take so much work," he admitted ruefully, and I grinned, nudging him with my shoulder. I felt him tense, and I hit myself mentally. It was an old habit of mine to poke him lightly with my shoulder ever since we were in first year. I had thought that this habit became extinct after the fight of ours, but it was merely dormant, taking over me without a second's thought.

"Sorry," I muttered, and shifted away from him. How could a perfectly normal day go all haywire because of this one guy? I pulled my knees up to my chest and leaned back, staring at the blank ceiling.

"It's okay," he said in a strained voice, but I didn't look at him. "We still need to talk."

I closed my eyes. "The children's lunch is at twelve o'clock," I said in a monotone. My hair was falling over my face but I paid no mind to it. "After their lunch, we're off our shifts as Dana and Robert are going to take over for us. We can talk then."

"Sounds good."

In my head, I was already imagining how everything would go: we'd Apparate to the Three Broomsticks, have some butterbeer while looking around awkwardly. Then we'd start warming up to each other as I try to explain my reason for kissing him, and we'll finally start reminiscing about the Hogwarts times where he and I were best friends. He'd tell me that he missed me terribly during those years, and would like to build our friendship again. I'd agree with tears sparkling in my blue eyes and we'd hug.

Yeah right, Rose, dream on.

I shut off my over-heating brain to embrace a moment of darkness.

I slammed my ID card on top of the counter. Emily looked up from behind the counter, startled at my bout of temper.

"Ah, sorry, Ems," I said sighing. The spaghetti and bits of tomato slices slid off my hair and landed with an audible splat onto the floor. Ignoring the mess, I continued to bang my head against the marble top.

"Rose," Emily said. "You're shaking all the food on me."

I stopped immediately, feeling the pain. Rubbing my throbbing forehead, I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," I apologized again. Was it me, or was I apologizing a lot today? I cradled my head into my hands while propping my elbows up onto the counter.

"By looking at the state you're in, I'm guessing the children had another food fight?" She guessed, stifling her laughter. Oh, she had absolutely no idea.

"It was utter hell," I complained, vanishing the blobs of food on the floor with a flick of my wand. "Normally I'd be fine with the kids throwing their lunch at each other since you know, they are a bunch of some-what toddlers, but this time it was Scorpius who started it." I pushed my card towards Emily. "Aren't you going to put this back?"

"Oh, right." With that, she took it from me and put it in the rightful slot in the cupboard. With her back to me, I heard her cheerful voice say, "The new guy, Scorpius… He's pretty cute, isn't he?"

My elbow slipped and caused me to hit my chin on the counter top rather forcefully. A tumble of obscenities escaped from me as I fiercely rubbed my chin this time. "Hmph," I huffed. "No matter how cute he is, his personality makes a flobberworm look like a gentleman." Okay, so flobberworms weren't human; it was just used for comparison.

"I beg to differ," a voice sneered from behind me. I jumped slightly, twirling around so fast that I got a crick in my neck. Great, just great- now I had a heavy headache, a possibly bruised chin, and a cramped neck. What was with me and injuring myself today? He looked really ill-tempered with a scowl gracing his features, his arms folding over his chest. "I'll meet you in The Three Broomsticks in an hour as I need to go home to clean myself up." He said, repelled by his own messy self. Without further words, he whammed his own card next to where mine had sat on minutes ago, and Apparated with a crack.

Knowing that I shouldn't be feeling smug, I resisted a smirk at Emily's blatantly appalled expression.

"I told you so," I said simply. I was already turning on the spot in the air when I saw her holding a book threateningly.

I arrived back at the flat that Emily and I shared. To my surprise, I saw that I was clutching the same book that Ems threw at me while I was Apparating. "Ten Ways to Bring up Your Baby," I read aloud. My eyes trailed down to the author's name. I burst into a huge snort of disdain. Rita Skeeter. A definite load of rubbish, if anyone asked me. Firstly, her articles practically begged to be mocked. Secondly, her sources were utter crap and unreliable. Thirdly, she doesn't have a child; if she did, I'd feel really sorry for her spawn as they'd be raised by an evil beetle of a mother and inevitably become evil miniature bugs as well.

Who'd actually buy this? I asked myself, leaving it on the dining table as I moved towards my bathroom. 'I mean, what kind of parent would actually want to raise their children in the Skeeter way?'

By the time I stepped into the hot shower, I concluded that Skeeter wrote the book to have many babies grow into miniature figures of her because no man in their right state of mind would ever marry, let alone have kids with her. Nice try, you cow, but you're never going to have evil minions that write utter crap like you.

I scrubbed myself clean, watching in satisfaction as the small splatters of sauce dissolve. My thick hair was already thoroughly shampooed and rinsed until I could feel small prickles on my scalp. Drying myself, I carefully rubbed my hair until it was no longer dripping wet with a towel, and covering my body with another. I opened the door and walked into my room to the neatly folded clothes on my chair. I pulled on my undergarments first, and then my shorts and a light red shirt that miraculously didn't clash with my hair.

I touched my hair and found out that it was still damp. Oh well, it didn't matter; I still had thirty minutes to waste. I flopped onto my bed, squashing my favourite teddy bear in the process. "Ah, didn't see you there, Caddie," I said, pulling her out from under my belly. I fixed her squashed nose and placed her gingerly next to my pillow. I was bored. Now was the time to take another look at my room and see what has to be changed.

My room was predictably neat and tidy, which was a drastic opposite from Emily's. It was normal-sized with two closets and three bookshelves filled with both Muggle and Wizarding literature. There was a long desk that was glass topped with many framed Wizarding pictures and a laptop. As Ems was a Muggleborn and my mother was one as well, we were familiar with Muggle things, and even owned some of them, like telephones, a television, computers, and even our own hand phones. Incredibly useful, they were.

Hmmm. I looked around my room with scrutinizing eyes, taking in every detail. I would have to change the colours of the walls later, but other than that, my room still suited my taste. Satisfied, I decided to go to the kitchen to get an apple. I was so preoccupied at my task of washing the fruit that I never noticed a shadow looming behind me until I turned around. I promptly let out a shrill scream.

"Scorpius! Damn it!" I panted. The apple rolled on the floor touching my foot, bruised and spoiled. In front of me, Scorpius stood there looking rather affronted while a bump was rapidly growing above his left eyebrow. Wow, how did that happen? I must have some crazy, fast reflexes.

"Ow, what did you do that for!?"

"What did I do that for? Hmm, lets think," I said sarcastically, tapping my chin as I pretended to be deep in thought. "Oh, I know! Maybe it has to do with a fact that you suddenly appear out of nowhere, scaring me to death?" I stopped tapping myself and placed my hands on my hips. "Be glad that it wasn't a knife that I was holding, you jerk."

He scowled at me in his response, backing away from me. "Cherrie was right when she told me you were paranoid." Emily told him that? She knew that I hated being caught off guard!

"I'm not paranoid. Besides, how did you get here anyways?" I picked up the apple and threw it away, taking out a new one from the fridge. I bit into it after washing it, relishing the sweetness of it. "You said we'd meet in The Three Broomsticks in an hour." My mouth was full when I said this, but I didn't care. I vaguely remembered Mum telling me that I was fortunate enough to get a mild case of Dad's eating habits; Hugo, much to her dismay and my mild disgust, had Dad's dinner manners.

"Yes, well, my wash a lot quicker than I expected, so I went back to talk to your friend. Seeing me in a rather foul mood, she got rid of me by telling me your address." He added a loud laugh, looking at me. "She was all too eager to get me away from her."

I poured us tea and arranged crackers on a plate. Using my wand, I levitated the tray carefully onto the small table that was in front of him. "I wonder why," I said wryly as I sat down on a different sofa, still eating my apple. When his usual retort didn't come, I looked up to see his grey eyes, no longer cold, were on my face.

"You haven't changed, Rosie. Still sarcastic as ever."

"I wish I could say the same for you." The words came out of my mouth before I realized it, and by then, it was too late. He looked expressionless again, and it was even harder for me to know how he felt. I hated this. I hated how I couldn't read him like I used to during our Hogwarts years. Before I could say anything else, he cut in.

"So are we going to The Three Broomsticks or should we just talk here?"

"Here." I really couldn't be bothered to Apparate. And if he became unbearable, I could always kick him out of the flat. After all, I had every right to do so.

"I suppose you can't be bothered to leave the house."

Damn it. "Congratulations, you should get a prize," I said coolly, although I was slightly indignant. I was not inactive! Taking my last bite of the apple, I used magic to throw it away. Fine, so maybe I was getting a bit lazy. He chuckled, but quickly quelled it, turning sombre and serious.

"Now, can we discuss that sudden kiss of yours?"

I groaned, sinking into the leather sofa. "A very long story, Scorpius; one that involves wailing kids, limited options, and your unfortunate timing."

He was unfazed. "I'm all ears for the next two hours," he said, eating a cracker. I really longed for a distraction or interruption- a phone call, knock against the door, a bird crashing into the window like it did last week, anything- but I doubted that my wish would come true.

"Fine, I'll tell you," I said resignedly, taking a sip of my tea. As I looked out the window to see the impossibly perfect afternoon mocking me, I groaned inwardly. I could already sense that this was going to be a long two hours.