note: before i forget, i am not jk rowling, and nothing belongs to me but max and peyton (obviously).


cuddle me up, cover me in

ed sheeran

-:-

I arrived at the mall in jeans and a light jacket, and Scorpius arrived with a black sweater and an easy grin.

"Hey you," he smiled as I approached him at the water fountain, "I've been waiting ages."

"Yeah, right," I said dryly, "I'm right on time. And you're certainly never one to be early."

"Touche," he smirked. "Can we grab a coffee first, though? I'm desperate for one."

I agreed, and we headed to our favourite kiosk for the coffee. The three of us had discovered the mall when we first moved out on our own, and absolutely adored it. Personally, I thought Muggle malls were one of the greatest inventions alive, and in all honestly, so did Albus and Scorpius. (But you didn't hear that from me.) Many a Saturday afternoon were spent killing time here. My mother loved it, she loved that the three of us were so into the Muggle world, much more than any of my other cousins. Personally, I thought Al and I took after our grandfather. And as for Scorpius, I thought it was just another way to prove to his family how history would not repeat itself.

"I'd like two medium roasts, please, one large and one small," Scorpius said to the man behind the counter. Grabbing the coffees and the giving the man money, he poured milk into the small cup and handed it to me.

"Thanks." I took the coffee from him, taking a sip. "So, what were you planning on getting Astara?"

"Honestly, I have no idea – what is one supposed to get their sixteen year old sister for her birthday? They should have a guide book for younger sisters, I swear." Scorpius looked at me thoughtfully. "Y'know, you're probably the worst person to bring on this trip. You're going to recommend a book, aren't you?" His eyes sparkled with mischief.

I stuck my nose in the air mockingly. "Well, fine, if that's how you see it, I best be on my way, sir. Good day." I quickened my pace to get ahead of him.

"Whatever. I don't need your help anyway. I'm perfectly in tune to girl world."

I snorted and turned around. "Is this your way of telling me you're ready to come out of the closet?"

He shrugged. "Albus is pretty cute, you have to admit," he said, looking at me over the rim of the coffee cup. But the twinkle in his eyes let me know he was joking.

I shook my head and resumed my place beside him, and we began to wander. Scorpius leaned his head close to me and mumbled, "10 o'clock. State name, occupation, spouse."

Observing the dark haired woman who was indeed at the 10 o'clock mark from us, I sized her up before she was out of view. Black glasses, mom jeans, light makeup. Sensible shoes, definitely a wedding band, and a bag from a toddler store.

"Maureen. Two kids, aged four and six. Both boys. Married for six, no wait, five years. Drives a red minivan and works as a receptionist at a doctor's office part time."

Scorpius nodded slowly. "Good, good. Although, I had a slight inclination to call her Susan."

"Hm, that's good as well. Although I do feel Maureen has a slightly more mom feel, as opposed to Susan? I find that name very grandmotherly."

"Yes, yes I do see your point."

"7 o'clock. Name, occupation, spouse."

I gave him a moment to think about it. The man I had pointed out to him had a leather bag slung over his shoulder, a clean haircut, and a coffee in his hand. In his other, he was furiously typing away on his cell phone.

"Dave. Works with computers. Not married, but has a girlfriend named Grace. No wait, Stephanie. They've been dating for about a year now."

We continued walking around and creating stories for the people around us. Sometimes I found it strange – that there were so many people around us, so many different lives right near us, and yet we hadn't a clue what went on in them, or who these people really were.

"Hey," I looked past Scorpius to a brightly coloured dress store, "didn't Astara love the Muggle clothes you bought her last year? Why not try a dress?"

Scorpius raised his brows. "Not a bad idea, Weasley."

We headed into the dress store, and were immediately greeted by a friendly salesperson. "If you need anything, just let me know," she chirped.

The two of use got to work sorting through dresses. It was not a task for the weak. My arms quickly grew tired of sifting through rows and rows of chiffon, silk, and velvet.

"What about this one?" I asked, trying to keep a straight face. I held it up to me and sucked my face in like a model, turning my head to the side. It was a hideous green number, with bright blue flowers and ladybugs.

"You can top it off with this hat," Scorpius grinned, grabbing a purple hat from a nearby shelf and sticking it on my head. "I think it looks bloody fantastic."

I turned to observe myself in the mirror, the floppy hat coming down over my eyes and the ladybug dress held over me, and I laughed. "My next look. I'll wear it to our next party."

"Remind me not to come within ten feet of you."

I replaced the hat and the dress, and continued my search. Yanking free a pretty pink dress, I held it out to him. "What about this one?"

He looked at it up and down. "Yeah, that one's nice, actually. Do me a favour and try it on?"

Oh, God. I was not interested in trying on a dress in front of my very attractive male best friend.

"Please? You're short. If it fits you, it has a better chance of fitting her."

"You own me one, Malfoy." I replied, whisking the dress to the back where the change rooms were located.

"Hi there! How you are two!" the lady behind the counter said, her cheeks stretched so far into a fake smile that it seemed as though her face would crack at any moment. Without waiting for a reply, she said just as cheerfully, "How many items!"

"Uhm, just one," I said, eyeing Scorpius.

"Perfect!" she said. "Let me get you a room!"

I followed her to the changeroom near the back, and Scorpius gave me a huge, over the top grin behind her back, mocking her. I nearly dissolved in a fit of giggles right there. Unlocking the changeroom for me, she turned around and said, "Here you are! My name's Denise if you need anything!"

"Great!" I said, matching her enthusiasm. Scorpius caught my eye above her head, and gave a jolt of silent laughter. She obviously did not catch my sarcasm (thank God) and gave me one last bright smile that could make midnight seem like four in the afternoon before leaving us alone.

Scorpius made himself comfortable in the chair across from my room, and I shut the door behind me.

"So?" He called after a few minutes, "how's it coming?"

"Good," I gasped, overwhelmed in frilly pink fabric. "I think the zipper's stuck, though."

"Need help?"

"Nope, no," I blushed, "I think – ah, yes, I've got it." I turned around to look in the mirror. It was a pretty dress, with a bejeweled to, and bottom that flowed down in light frills. It fit okay, too. The problem was my hair. It looked so horrible with the pink that I almost wanted to laugh.

"And?" Scorpius called again through the door, snapping me from my thoughts. I opened the door and stepped out.

"You look really pretty," Scorpius blurted.

I felt my face go red – stupid Weasley genes. "Thank you, kind sir," I replied, as smoothly and lightly as possible. "Is it a keeper for Astara, then?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

Heading back into the changeroom, I gathered my nerves and called, "So, did you manage to keep the fort under control last night? Albus said you stayed a bit afterward."

There was a pause on the other side, then "-yeah, uh, I did."

"Cool," I said, for lack of anything else to say, "thank you for helping clean up."

"It was no trouble," he replied. Another pause. "Actually, Rose, there's something I wanted to tell you.

"Lucy and I kind of hooked up last night."

My hand froze on the button of my jeans and a rock fell straight to the pit of my stomach. Never before had I been so grateful for a door to hide my expression. My mouth was too dry to respond, and I only gained control of my body functions until after he added, "I hope you don't mind."

Mind? Who, me? Of course not!

I pulled on my shirt. "Mind, Who, me? Of course not!" I tried my best to sound as normal and non-squeaky as possible. "Why would I mind?"

"Well, y'know, Lucy being your cousin and all," he coughed. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, before you heard through the grapevine, or something."

I pulled on a trainer. "Do you like her?" I asked, wincing as soon as the words were out of my mouth. I sounded like a whiny fifteen year old. "I mean, was this big for you?"

"No, not at all," he rushed, "It just sort of happened. It was a mutual one night thing."

I leaned my head against the mirror. Slipping on my other trainer, I opened the door. Putting on what I hoped was a convincing, bright smile, I said, "Well, I glad it turned out all right for you." Glad it turned out all right for you? What? Stupid Rose.

His grey eyes scanned my face. "So, you're not mad?"

I forced another grin. "Mad? Of course not, silly, why would I be mad?" With all my fake smiling, I felt a bit like Denise. I could totally work in retail.

He shrugged. "No reason," he mumbled, and we headed to the front of the store to pay.


When Albus came into the kitchen later that afternoon, I was furiously dusting the kitchen cabinets. "Whoa, speed racer," he said, opening one and retrieving a glass, "slow down."

I kept rubbing the nonexistent dust out of the cabinets. Filling his glass with tap water, he turned around to face me. I could feel his eyes on me, and I ignored him.

Except being watched gets kind of irritating, if I'm totally honest.

Whirling around, I faced him. "What?"

He held his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Nothing," he said, taking a sip of his water. "But the only time you ever clean like a mental person," he indicated to the dusting rag with his glass of water, "is when you're upset. And the kitchen is spotless." He ran a hand against the kitchen sink for good measure.

"Nothing's wrong," I retorted, "I just felt this place could you use a bit of cleaning, that's all."

He just looked at me, and took another sip of his water. I wanted to knock that stupid glass out of his stupid hands. I knew he could tell I was lying, too.

"Fine!" I cried. "Something's wrong, you're right." I leaned my hand on the counter and rested my head on my shoulder.

"Really. Hadn't noticed," he commented dryly. I shot him a glare. "Does it have anything to do with my blond best friend, by any chance?"

I scoffed. "No."

"Rosie."

"Yes, fine, it does," I relented. "He's just stupid, that's all."

"What'd he do?" Al asked. I remained silent. I could not form the words in my mouth. Al's eyes widened. "He didn't actually, y'know, sleep with…" he trailed off, looking at me inquisitively.

I dropped my eyes to the floor, nodding my head.

Al gave a low whistle. "Wow. I'm sorry, Rosie." As an afterthought, he added. "With Lucy?"

"Yes!" I snapped, "With Lucy! We just went over this."

"Sorry, sorry," he said hastily. "It's just.. Lucy. Y'know? With her glasses and I don't know, it just weirding me out a little."

"It's probably because she was ready and available," I grumbled, getting my head of shoulder. I turned my back to the counter and leaned against it.

Al cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "Probably."

"Does this mean I get to call her a random whore now?" I asked, brightening.

"Absolutely not."

"Jerk," I muttered, grabbing the water glass from his hand and gulping it down all in one shot. I wished it was Firewhiskey.

"Hey!" Al took the glass back from my hands and refilled it. "You know what you need?"

"What?"

"A fun night out. We'll go to a Muggle club! It'll be great," he said enthusiastically,

I really wasn't in the mood to go clubbing, but then again. Maybe a night out was just what I needed. I agreed, and Al looked like all his Christmases had come early.

"So, are they dating now, or what?" Al asked, putting his now empty glass in the sink.

I shook my head. "Nah, he said it was just a one night thing." I looked down at my nails, and noticed I had bitten them down to a quick. I needed to paint them, too. Maybe purple.

"Rosie!" He cried. "What are you even worried about for, then?"

"He slept with her, Al," I rolled my eyes. "It's like, she's marked her territory. Plus, now, if something ever does happen, I'll have Lucy's leftovers. She's already run her hands all over him." I shuddered at the thought.

"Girls," Al said, and it was his turn to roll his eyes."you're all so friggin' bizarre. He said it was a one night thing. So chill out."

"Yeah, I'll try," I reasoned, meaning every word. "Lily gets off at four, right?" I asked, glancing at the clock, and Al nodded. It was ten after. Perfect. "I'm Flooing to your parents house, I need to borrow a dress from Lily."

"Don't end up in China."


Stumbling out of the fireplace, I knocked over a lamp and stack of books on the side table. Righting the lamp and the dusting myself off, I headed into the kitchen.

"Lily?" I called. "Oh, hello, mum, dad." I entered the kitchen to find my mother and father at the table with Harry. Plates littered with sandwich crusts and apple cores cluttered the table, as did a half bag of crisps. They were reading the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler respectively.

"Hello, Rosie," my dad exclaimed. "How's my girl?"

"Oh, fine, fine," I answered, kissing their cheeks. "Just popped round to borrow a dress from Lily." I took a seat across from my mother across the head, and pulled the bag of crisps towards me.

Always curious, my mum immediately replied with "why do you need a dress? Oh, and fix your shirt."

Looking down, I adjusted my shirt and replied sheepishly, "Al and I are going out to a Muggle club tonight."

Bloody hell. Twenty years old and still embarrassed to tell my parents I was going to a club.

At the mention of his Al's name, Harry's head snapped up. "He's not getting you in any trouble is he, Rosie?"

"Who, Al? Nah, of course, not," I shook my head.

"You let me know if he is, and I'll kick his ass for you," replied Harry.

"And I'll help," Dad grumbled.

"Stop, both of you," said Mum, rolling her eyes, "Al and Rose get along just fine."

"I'm just letting her know, Hermione," said Harry, throwing me a wink.

"Bloody- would you look at this, Hermione!" Dad exclaimed, passing his copy of the Prophet to Mum. I watched as her face turned into an expression of surprise, her eyes furiously scanning the page. "You've got to be kidding," she muttered as I munched on crisps, "Harry, take a look."

As Harry was reading the article, I turned to my parents. "Is something wrong?" I asked. I received no answer from my parents, how annoying.

Harry finished the article pushed it aside. "What is it, Uncle Harry?" I probed.

"Nothing's wrong, Rosie. Just a journalist we got into a spot of trouble with many years ago." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, his glasses dangerously close to the edge of the table.

"A 'spot' of trouble is one way to put it," Mum said, absent-mindedly pushing the glasses closer to the middle of the table. "You know Rita Skeeter, Rose? The author of Dumbledore's biography?"

"The one you said was rubbish? Yeah, I remember her," I frowned. "Man, she must be ancient by now."

Dad laughed. "No doubt! I wonder if she's writing from a rocker?" Harry and my dad clearly got amusement from that mental image.

"Honestly, you two," Mum retorted, "Anigmagi live longer than most wizards."

"Rita Skeeter is an Animagus? No way!" I cried. "What is she?

"A beetle," Harry stated plainly, "a nasty, ugly, black beetle. Your mother held her captive in jar once, actually."

My head whipped around to stare at my mother. "Is he joking?" I asked warily.

She shook her head. "No, its true," she replied, giving me a proud smile.

Harry leaned closer to me. "To be honest with you, your mother always was a bit mad," he whispered loudly. "We thought it might fade with age, but it hasn't yet, sadly." The corners of his moth twitched, and I smirked.

"At least you didn't marry her," Dad remarked dryly, taking a sip of his tea.

"Hmmph," said Mum, turning her eyes to her magazine. 'I don't know why I chose to spend my life you people. Especially marry you-" she pointed at my dad, "worst mistake. And you're both awful friends." She flicked through the pages too fast to be actually reading them, and I saw her trying to contain her laugh.

One of the many things I loved about my parents' marriage was their friendship. They had been best friends for years, and I adored how they still were. They always brought up the fact as well, that they were best friends, and it made me love the relationship they had.

"So, anyway," I cut in, pushing the now empty bag of crisps away from me, "why was Rita an Animagus?"

"It's a long story, Rose," said Mum. "I'll tell you another day." I wanted to push the subject, but I could tell she wasn't interested in pursuing the subject. That was the thing with the three of them – I had to be careful sometimes, about what I said about their teenage years. I still wasn't sure what was sensitive topics, and I'm sure there was plenty they didn't tell us – anyone, for that matter.

"What's she writing, anyway?" I asked.

"Gossip column," Harry answered. "Complete rubbish, as usual." Mum gave him a look, but then relented. "You're right," she said, "It is rubbish."

"It's Skeeter," Dad said, standing up to clear the plates. "What do you expect?"

"Rose?" I heard Lily call from the top of the stairs, "Is that you?"

"Yeah!" Turning to my family, I remarked, "there's my cue," and left the table.


note: please please please please don't favourite/follow without reviewing, thankyou! it bothers me more than green cars, and that is seriously saying something. hope you liked it!

oh, fun fact - rose was actually supposed to be lily in the beginning, but that got changed half an hour into the story.