Author's Note: As was with "Where Does Hyperion Fit Into It?", I've decided to add a part two to this fic. I really wanted to continue the letter format, but simply found it too difficult to write this part like that. So, again, I hope this lives up to the first part. (I'm a bit paranoid that I've destroyed my kick-arse Rose from the first part! O.o ) Enjoy and feel free to tell me the second part's shit! :D

(I'm not bothering with a disclaimer here, it's on the first chapter, so ner.)

JUST A RE-CAP:

Rose stared at the letter. Was he serious, or was he trying to rile her? Perhaps it was a combination of both. Rose contemplated wrapping herself in a large bow and sitting underneath the tree in a rather sensual pose, simply to humour the git. When she thought about it, he wasn't really that bad; obviously not if her family accepted him. Perhaps tomorrow, in the spirit of Christmas, she should be friendlier toward him? He had, after all, been rather nice to her of late.

An idea struck her – he wanted a gift? She'd give him one. She transfigured two spare quills. One she morphed into a rose, the other became a toy replica of a Muggle weapon. She tore off a scrap of parchment before composing a note to be attached to her 'gift'.

Scorpius,

You said you wanted your own rose for Christmas. Well, I have so kindly given you one – once again, I have fulfilled your Christmas wish without mine being granted in return. Therefore, considering last Christmas you were ungrateful of my wishes and did not bury yourself alive, perhaps you'll use this Muggle contraption – it's called a gun – and you'll shoot your eye out? That would be an ideal gift.

Also, I meant what I said – I could care less.

It doesn't mean I fancy you, it simply means I am rather nonchalant about your existence.

Merry Christmas!

Rose read over her note. She was, perhaps, a little unnecessarily cruel to the ferret. Though, her resolution to be friendlier was still not being compromised.

After all, it wasn't technically Christmas yet.

Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

– Part II –

Rose sat at her desk, still looking at the note and 'present' she'd just prepared for Scorpius. She read the note once more ... she'd called him Scorpius, not 'Malfoy'. When, and more importantly, why had she started doing that? Right, she was just cutting him some slack because it was Christmas and because he'd been rather nice to her lately. This only caused her to contemplate the situation further, why had he been nice to her? In his letter, he'd said he cared for her, wanted her to be his last and best Christmas present. What was she going to do if he actually meant it? How would she cope with knowledge that the boy with whom she'd had a steady relationship with, fuelled by bickering and contempt, for the past six years, fancied her? How would she reply if he actually spoke such words to her, rather than writing them in a letter? She didn't fancy him back ... sure, he was admittedly really attractive, and she had to admit that when he spoke, it was like music – a deep bass drum – but did that mean she had feelings for him? Surely it was just pure physical attraction...

Once again, it seemed Scorpius had got what he wanted – Rose was thoroughly annoyed and baffled, with herself, and with him for making her feel this way. Well, she thought, sitting here all night won't solve anything. So, she picked up the 'gift' and quietly made for her bedroom door. She wasn't as idiotic as him; she wasn't going to send an owl at this hour of the night, particularly not when the recipient was just a few paces across the hall from her. She slowly turned the door handle, simultaneously opening the old wooden door. Everything was to be done slowly and carefully, as most things in the old house creaked, for the most part when one was trying to be quiet and unseen. Once she'd succeeded in opening the door without a noise, she stuck her head cautiously out into the hallway, ensuring there was no-one still up and able to see what she was about to do. It would be embarrassing to no end to have to explain ... especially should she be found by any of her cousins, Albus in particular ... they'd always teased her about secretly fancying Scorpius; said it was only a matter of time before she realised this and snogged the pants off him. Well, she'd show them! She may like him now, but most definitely not in a romantic way ... she was sure of it. Wouldn't she know if she felt otherwise?

The hall was clear, so Rose tip-toed across, stopping just outside Albus and Scorpius' room. As she took her last step, the floorboard beneath her foot creaked, rather loudly. Cursing fate, the house and (just for good measure) Scorpius, she quickly placed the little package on the floor outside the door and began tip-toeing back across the hall ... hoping with all her being that no more floorboards would stress under her weight. It seemed, however, that fate, the house and Scorpius did not like being cursed, as with each step she took, a floorboard groaned in protest. She stopped in the middle of the hall, arms spread out as though to balance, ready to start her attempt once more. She stopped dead with a foot off the floor, however, when she heard the distinct sound of a door opening and closing behind her. Spinning around, her eyes fell on a pale, bare, and surprisingly defined chest. Realising she was staring, she lifted her gaze to the equally pale and attractive face of Scorpius Malfoy, who was grinning, his exposed teeth seeming more white than usual in the light from his wand. In his hand, he held the small package.

Oh God was the only thought that Rose could coherently process as he read her note and opened the package, right in front of her face. He was grinning still, perhaps even wider than before ... as though the note held within it a code that he knew exclusively. He took a step forward, a seemingly large step, she thought, and came to stop a foot from her. She felt rather uncomfortable being this close to his naked chest, especially when she, herself, was rather scantily clad in a singlet and cotton shorts. As though he'd heard her thoughts, Scorpius scanned her figure, and she was suddenly glad his wand was dimly lit, as she could feel certain heat creeping up her cheeks. What was happening to her? She greatly disliked this boy! She should not be blushing just because he gives her the once-over! She should be disgusted, if anything! Coming to her senses, she cleared her throat, and felt triumphant when his eyes jumped to hers guiltily.

"So," he said in a deep whisper, "you're sending me gifts, now, eh?"

He was still grinning, and Rose wanted to slap his face. "No," she replied firmly, "No, I'm merely placing the possible means of your demise at your door ... prompting you to take my advice and shoot yourself in the eye."

He smirked. She hated it when he smirked ... he didn't always do it, usually he grinned, but now he was smirking ... she knew it couldn't be good. "Indeed. That might have been the case, had you not also included a rose ..." he twirled said rose delightfully in front of her face.

She hastily brushed it out of the way, looking directly into his gleefully dancing eyes. "I only included it because you said you wanted your own rose for Christmas ... What can I say? The Christmas spirit got to me. "

He laughed – a deep, rumbling expulsion from his chest.

"Shh," she hissed angrily, ignoring how pleasant a sound his deep laugh was. "Do you want to wake half of the house up?"

"No, not really ... I quite like spending time alone with you," his voice was that deep whisper again, and it only angered her more. He was confusing her again, and she didn't like to be confused. He was a git ... the world's biggest prat. She would not fall to his supposed charm.

She took half a step closer to him; they were almost nose-to-nose as she tried to intimidate him. "You are not 'spending time alone' with me. We're arguing in the middle of a dark hallway, over something so trivial as a stupid, mock Christmas present!"

His eyes remained playful, and she knew he was revelling in her anger. "Arguing in a dark hallway over something so trivial as a wonderful Christmas present, we may be, Rose," he grinned now, and she knew he was about to win the argument. "But, are we not the only people present, and are we not spending passing moments of time together whilst pointlessly arguing? Hence, I am, in fact, spending time alone with you."

That was it, she could stand that self-satisfied grin no longer, and remembered why it was that they'd always bickered and she'd always scoffed at her cousins' stupid 'you secretly fancy him and just don't know it' theory – he was a huge prat, and he nearly always won the argument. As petty as it may be, she hated losing arguments ... particularly to the likes of him.

She huffed in response and made to move, but, as she tried to turn around, she found that she was rooted to the spot. She tried in vain to move her foot again, with the same result. She was stuck, in the middle of the hallway, no less than five minute steps from her bedroom, with the boy she'd sworn to despise for the rest of eternity. Great.

(SCORP'S POV.)

Scorpius watched as she tried in vain to move from the spot. He knew she couldn't – it was Enchanted Mistletoe, a Christmas special from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Genius, he thought. He'd known it was there the whole time ... he'd planted it there. He just knew that once he'd sent that last letter, she wouldn't be able to resist retorting; Rose would never back out of an argument, and he also knew that she'd try to prove she was smarter by delivering her response. He'd figured she'd probably just levitate it to outside his and Al's bedroom door, being as suspicious as she was, but he'd hoped she'd be annoyed enough to walk across the hall ... and he'd been waiting. Ever since he'd sent the letter, he'd waited on the other side of the door, listening for the tell-tale creak of floorboards that would prove he knew Rose Weasley a lot better than she gave him credit for. And he'd been right. All he'd had to do was take a step towards her, so they were both standing underneath the Enchanted Mistletoe, and it would trigger the charm. They were both rooted to the spot, and the only way to lift the clever charm was to kiss, or simply perform the reverse charm ... though he was quite certain she didn't know it.

She was looking up at him now, and he could see she was thoroughly annoyed. "Can you move?" she asked blandly.

He knew what she meant, he knew she'd realised they were stuck, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease her. It was too easy, he knew she found him attractive – he knew it as soon as he'd caught her staring at his bare chest; it would be so easy to fluster her. And he liked her when she was flustered, more than he usually did, anyway. She was vulnerable when flustered, and perhaps she'd realise she liked him just a little bit more than she claimed.

He raised an eyebrow. "Can I move? Yes, I can move ... I can move my hands," he placed his hands on her warm, freckled shoulders, and smirked as he saw her eyes widen with uncertainty. "I can move my feet," he inched forward and there was barely an inch between them now; even in the dim light he could see that her face was ablaze. He was succeeding in flustering her. He gazed at her intently and sincerely, hoping she would know he was perfectly serious as he barely whispered, "I can move my lips ..."

Her eyes darted away from his, and he knew he'd won. She was questioning her feelings for him, he knew it. She hastily tried to move back, and once again, she could not. It seemed that she hadn't yet figured out why she was stuck. He smirked again, his hands still firmly placed on her shoulders. She promptly swatted them away, and then pushed against his chest in protest.

Her expression was defiant. "That's not what I meant and you know it! I meant, can you move ... backwards, from where you're standing now?"

He grinned now, her hands were still on his chest and he quite liked the feeling. It was just too easy to toy with her. "I'm sure I can, but I certainly don't want to."

He seemed to have ground on her last nerve. "Malfoy," she growled, "stop being an insufferable git for five seconds in your life, and actually answer me like a normal human being. Can you move backwards? Because I've tried numerous times now, in a desperate attempt to leave your presence, and it would seem as though I'm stuck and cannot move from this spot ... most unfortunately."

Her face was still a rather bright shade of red. Knowing he was likely to get slapped should he continue in flustering her, he feigned contemplation for a few moments. He then sighed in realisation, fixing his eyes and wand on the ceiling above their heads. She followed his gaze and he watched the realisation pass over her face. He could virtually hear the clogs churning as she pieced together the situation. After a few moments she spat, "Bloody Uncle George! ... I'll kill him!"

Ignoring her outburst and evident anger, Scorpius lowered his wand and grinned at her once more. "Looks like you're going to have to kiss me, Rosie."

As he'd anticipated, she glowered at him and hissed rather loudly, "Don't call me Rosie! And, I will not have to do anything, Scorpius; we just have to get Uncle George to reverse the charm ... No kiss needed."

She was pulling at threads, and judging by her expression, she knew it. He knew that she would avoid waking any of her family at all costs, as they'd find her predicament rather amusing. On top of that, they'd probably ask her how she'd come to be in her current situation, and he definitely knew she'd rather not tell that story. He knew she was coming around, and she was annoyed about it.

He grinned at her triumphantly before throwing her words back in her face. "Shh, do you want to wake half of the house up?"

He watched her carefully. She seemed to be considering something, and he was quite certain she was contemplating how to hurt him, as she had no wand on her. After several moments' thought, and to his great surprise, she smiled seductively. Rose Weasley, the girl he fancied, was smiling at him ... seductively!

"No," she replied, the smile still in place, her finger brushing his collar bone, "Not really ... I quite like spending time alone with you."

"Wha – What?" he stammered, his eyes frantically searching hers in an attempt to detect the mocking sarcasm he was sure he'd find. She was not serious, as much as he wished she were ... she couldn't be ... Could she?

She grinned now. "I said, no, I don't want to wake half of the house up ... I'd like to have you to myself ... alone."

He felt as though she'd hit him around the head with A History of Magic. He still couldn't detect the usual mocking in her eyes. Was she really that good an actor? "Y – you do?"

Her grin was triumphant and she ran her fingers down his chest lightly; he shivered involuntarily. Where was Rose Weasley? Why wasn't she slapping him for some ridiculous reason? "Uh-huh," she said, running her hands back up his chest, stopping at the base of his neck. She pulled him in, his bare chest now brushed up against her cotton singlet, and their noses were touching. She was looking into his eyes expectantly, and he felt himself flush when she whispered, "Now, can you still move those lips of yours?"

He was shocked. He no longer cared whether she was serious or not ... she seemed to be sincere, and he could take her teasing no longer. "Merlin's beard, yes," he breathed, before his eyes fluttered closed and he carefully pressed his lips to hers.

(ROSE'S POV.)

She couldn't believe it, she was kissing Scorpius Malfoy, and he was being gentle? He was cautious; after a few moments, he made to break the kiss, but Rose, wanting to tease and confuse him as much as he had her, opened her mouth to him ... hoping he would accept the invitation. Accept he did, though he remained gentle ... his soft lips delicately opening and closing against hers ... and to her surprise, she found it maddening.

Perhaps her cousins had been right, perhaps she did, on some level, fancy this boy. She found herself tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck, and she ground out a moan of frustration – after all of that tension, she'd been expecting passionate and frenzied, not gentle and caring. He seemed to take the moan as a pleasurable one, however, and it seemed to have stirred in him the passion she'd hoped for. She felt his tongue on the underside of her top lip, and barely heard his wand dropping loudly to the floor as he thrust both his hands into her hair. For hours, it seemed, they remained in the heated lip-lock, but it was in reality only minutes later when Scorpius began moving, backing her up against the hallway wall, that she realised she was free from the Enchanted Mistletoe. She broke away, gasping, her chest rising and falling rapidly and her cheeks ablaze. She liked kissing Scorpius Malfoy ... perhaps she did fancy him. But ... How could she have not known it until now? Whatever the case may be ... she knew she would very much like to kiss him again.

Scorpius grinned down at her now, his hands idly toying with her dishevelled hair. "Rosie, I – that was ..."

His gaze was heated and full of passion, and she needed to follow through with her plan of leaving him confused and annoyed – go back to her room before they did wake the half the house up with their antics.

"I know," she smiled at him, and it was genuine this time. She pushed against his chest and side-stepped out of his grasp. Her hand was on the handle of her bedroom door as she turned back to his confused face. "Just so you know Scorpius, you open your presents in the wrong order ..."

He moved to stand in front of her once more; his eyebrows knitted together in a way that only made him seem more attractive. "What?"

"Your Christmas presents? In your letter you said that you leave the best until last ... Well I disagree with that method. Why prolong the wait to have your most anticipated present? Why not experience the pleasure that best present brings straight away, as soon as possible?"

She leaned back into him, as she succumbed to her desire and kissed him roughly, but broke away before she lost herself. "For instance," she grinned at him, "would you've wanted to have waited until morning for that ...Your own Rose for Christmas?"

He grinned broadly, and made to kiss her once more, but she quickly slipped into her bedroom, leaving the door open a crack to smile back at him. "Merry Christmas, Scorpius, I suppose you were right, I could care less." With that, she closed the door with a flourish, leaving a thoroughly bewildered, yet exhilarated Scorpius standing in the hallway.

Moments later, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by the sing-song voice of Albus Potter. "I told you so, Rose! I told – you – so!"

So much for not waking up half of the house.

A/N: I know, the whole Enchanted Mistletoe thing ... it's been done a million times before, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to have a crack at it myself!

Anyway, thanks for reading! :D