. Chapter Two
I'll never tell you how I feel,
I'll never know your gentle touch;
I'll never know if this is real.
-Shadows, 21-23, Petitfleur from fictionpress
Rose Weasley had always been different. Her cousins and brother had inherited the famous ribrant Weasley red hair, whilst she adored untameable wild brown curls that seemed to frame her heart shaped face. Her cousins and brother had also inherited the brown freckles that splattered across their faces, the tall model like frame, and perfectly straight teeth that could illuminate the room with light whilst she had her plain face, small petite frame, and crowded teeth.
The only way you could even tell she belonged in the Weasley family was the brilliant cornflower blue of her eyes. But you could certainly tell she was the daughter of the Hermione Granger. With her almond shaped eyes that seemed to close together, her small button nose, bow shaped lips, and her plump, angelical, always innocently looking, face.
Not only did she not look the part of a Weasley child, but she also didn't seem to fit in either. Of course, she could always count on her family when she needed them to be there for her, but she knew even as she was surrounded by her family - aunts, uncles, cousins, father, mother, and brother she felt like an outsider looking in.
She didn't belong, she realized one day as she stared out the window of the kitchen at the Burrow watching her family outside - chatting, playing Quidditch, and laughing so hard their faces would turn the color of their hair. She stared down at the book in her lap as she felt tears beginning to prickle her eyes. Why had she ended up the misfit? The runt of the litter? How can one be an outsider from one's own family?
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On the other hand was Scorpius Malfoy. He was every bit a Malfoy. Platinum blonde hair, grey eyes, thin lips always seemed to be twisted in a sexy sneer, long lean body, high prominent cheek bones, long blonde eyes lashes, and always dressed in the finest robes that a wizard could buy.
He knew how to control his emotions perfectly since he was seven years old - how to give an innocent smile to a his biological mother, Daphne Greengrass, whenever he wanted a new broom for his birthday and she asked him if he had been a good boy, or how to give that stony death glare whenever his father used that 'Remember-whose-the-father-here' voice.
He had always fit in. Always the center of attention. And when he wasn't, he made sure that he caused enough of a scene to be the center of attention. He was spoilt, his mother and father always trying to give him the amazing childhood from loving parents unlike the ones they had.
And when his parents divorced, he got a new mother - Alessandra Sinistra, and he also got two parents that were so competive to beat each other out for his love that he had gifts piling up in the corner of his room, some of which had never been opened. Yes, he was very spoiled.
But like every person that has everything, he longed for more. He longed, wanted, craved for the only thing that he knew he couldn't ever have. The forbidden fruit...
The Gryffindor Princess.