Thank you for your reviews! Glad to see not all of you have given up on me. This chapter is long so (again) it is cut off, but next will be up tomorrow-ish as well (that's 3 chapters in 3 days!).

Peace x

Chapter 16

"Don't tell me you're wearing that?"

Lily eyes me up and down.

"What?" I say, looking down at my outfit. I'm wearing jeans (they're fashionably tight, thank you) and a nice coral top Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur bought me from France.

"Jeans? To a party?" Lily says.

She's at the door of my room, having come to borrow my Sleek-Do serum which I hand over to her, tugging at the hem of my top.

"It's just a birthday party."

"It's not just a birthday party. Everyone is going to be there."

I scoff. "Not everyone. How big can the Room of Requirement get, anyway?"

Lily rolls her eyes. "I don't mean literally everyone. I mean, everyone who is anyone. Andrew McLaggen's going - aren't you like, going out with him or something?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that!"

"Merlin, calm down. Apparently he asked you out or something."

"He didn't," I say flatly.

"Oh, in that case-" Lily grins.

"No," I say, pointing a finger at her. "He's bad news."

Lily rolls her eyes again. "You sound like James. Anyway, if you need clothes you can actually wear in public, come to my room - I bribed Addy our house-elf to owl some stuff over."

Clothes I can wear in public. I look at my outfit again in the mirror. It's not that bad, right? I turn to the door again but Lily is gone.

"Ack!" I hear a shriek through the bathroom door. The Terrible Three have been monopolising the girls' bathroom for the past two hours getting ready. Now they're probably plucking each other's armpit hair.

"You going to Dominique's party?" Melody asks, breezing into the room wearing something that can only be described as a magenta poncho-thing with tassells. The tassells have been charmed so that the strands wave around on their own. Suddenly I feel better about my outfit.

"You knew about it too?"

Melody shrugs. "I thought everyone did."

"Everyone except me," I grumble, turning to the mirror to cover my freckles with some sludgy makeup stuff.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Melody asks me.

"Yes. Why?"

Melody widens her blue eyes, all innocent-looking. "Nothing."

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"It's just a little boring, that's all."

I sigh. "Am I really going to go in one of Lily Potter's outfits?"

They usually consist of something short and tight.

"Who said anything about Lily's outfits?"

"Never mind," I mumble, spreading some makeup onto my cheeks with two fingers. Great. Now I look like a clown. "Are you going, too?"

"Yeah, Charlie asked me to go with him."

I accidently smear makeup up my nose. "Charlie Baxter? When?"

"Yesterday," Melody says. She flops onto the bed to watch me complete my transformation into a circus freak. "He's sort of scary-looking. But he's a vegetarian."

I snort. "Sounds like a keeper."

"Actually, he's a-"

"Ugh. Please, don't."

Charlie Baxter is a burly seventh-year, and a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I'm a little taken aback by this news, but I try not to make a big deal of it, lest it scare Melody away. She's always had an aversion to any sort of interaction with guys, probably because of all the bullying she endured from snot-nosed little boys when she was young over her unconventional ways. She's a trooper, though, and I've never seen her smiley, happy-go-lucky mood break in all the years I've known her. I swear, if Charlie Baxter is playing her I will hex his goddamn handsome face into oblivion.

"Don't look like that, Rose, he's a nice guy."

"Look like what?" I say, and turn back to the mirror.

The bathroom door suddenly flings open and out troop the Terrible Three, clomping past me in heels. They're in matching purple dresses, and I can see the thick layer of makeup from here. That's probably what I look like, I realise, and immediately stop applying.

"What're you wearing?" Cynthia asks.

I look at her short dress, too. "At least people can see I'm wearing a dress. Where's yours, Cynthia?"

Okay, that was petty, but I'm starting to get pissed off at everyone asking if this is what I'm wearing. Yes, for the love of Christ, This- Is- What- I'm- Wearing.

Cynthia's smokey kohl'd eyes bulge. "What did you say?"

I cough. "I mean, you look lovely."

"You are such a bitch, Rose Weasley."

"Right back at you, Cynthia Earl."

Cynthia looks at me darkly. "If you weren't Al's cousin I'd probably have pummelled you to a pulp by now. That can wait till after we're official, I suppose. C'mon, girls, let's leave these trolls - looks like they're busy trying to make themselves look half-decent."

Penelope and Sally trail after her.

Almost as soon as they leave, Lily materialises at my door again holding an armful of clothes. "Alright," she says, marching in and dumping the pile on my bed. "I was going to let it go, but I just can't. I'm a good person and I cannot let my cousin go to the most important social event in that."

"Lily, stop being so dramatic, it's really not-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Lily says, holding up a palm. "Stop. Just stop, Rose. This is your inner prude talking-"

"I am not a prude!"

"-and you must squash that voice right now. Option A-" she holds up a short black dress. I raise my brows, "-This says fashionable, but not trying too hard. Option B-" a short red dress that will probably clash terribly with my hair, "-It's sultry. And Option C-" now that's more like it. It's a deep green dress, sort of flowy, and knee-length, "is- oh, sorry, this is Lucy's, I thought it was the one I got from Piccadily Square…"

"It's perfect," I say.

Lily blinks at me, then looks back at the dress. "Well, I guess it's better than jeans…"

I change into the dress and both Lily and Melody 'ooh' and 'ahh'.

"That colour is so you," Lily says appreciatively.

Next they attack me with some makeup (after siphoning off the mess I made of it) and I stand back to find myself looking more than half-decent, if I do say so myself.

I laugh as Lily and Melody high-five each other a job well done.

xxxxxxxxxx

By the time we get to the Room of Requirement the party is, as Lucy puts it, "hot". It's hot alright; there's about a million people crammed into the room, it's muggy, and the magical fog that's billowing from a stage set up at the front is not helping. But I'm guessing what Lucy really means is that there are about a million people here and they're all dancing and it looks like they're having fun.

I look across the crowded room of sweaty, grinding bodies (okay, exaggeration, it's not quite a Muggle nightclub just yet) and almost want to turn back. This is not my scene at all. Then that annoying voice which sometimes acts as my conscience but also taunts me when I think lame things like that pipes up, And what is your scene, Weasley? Gobstones Club?

No, thank you very much.

Determinedly I stride in, heading towards the bar set up on the far side of the room. Melody has already left me; I spot her talking to Charlie Baxter who seems unable to comprehend her outfit. He's staring at her, eyes wide, as she twirls and her tassells sort of float around her. Then he laughs. Well, maybe the bloke does have a sense of humour, I grudgingly admit.

"A martini for the lady?"

I look up to see Lysander Scamander behind the bar, in a tux, holding out a glass of some dodgy-looking purple liquid.

"What the hell are you doing back there?" I say, taking the drink from him.

He raises a brow. "I am the bartender for the night."

Then Hugo pops out from behind the bar, hauling a crate of butterbeer onto the countertop. "Me too."

"Hugo- what the hell-"

"We're not serving to anyone underage!" he argues.

"You are underage."

"So? It's not like we're drinking. Much…"

"Ugh, whatever, just don't get drunk." I sniff the purple liquid in the tall glass. "What is this?"

Lysander tilts his head back and looks down his nose at me, and I can only assume it's his way of looking posh. "It is a mar-ti-ni."

I take a gulp. It tastes like berries and horse shit. I grimace as the alcohol burns its way down my throat. It'll do.

"Thanks," I sputter, and take my drink over to where the music is less aggressive on my eardrums.

I look around the room for someone I recognise. Scratch that, someone I can actually talk to. There's Lily and Lucy giggling near the drapes; James getting smashed with Tobias Wood; the Terrible Three wiggling their bums on the dancefloor; and the lady of the hour, Dominique Weasley, looking like a dream in a pale blue dress doing shots with Roxanne and a few other seventh-years by the double french doors that leads onto an actual let-down-your-hair-Rapunzel balcony.

I take another gulp of my drink.

"Rose? What're you doing here?"

Albus looks surprised - almost cross - that I'm here.

"Aren't I allowed to be here?" I say indignantly.

Albus shakes his head. "No, it's not that. It's just- I thought you hated these kinds of things."

"If by 'these kinds of things' you mean having fun, then no, I do not hate them."

"Jeez, I was just asking." He's holding a 'martini' as well, and he grimaces as he takes a sip. "Merlin, this is rank."

"Lysander Scamander and my brother are the bartenders - what'd you expect?" I say wryly.

"Good point."

"So where's your Slytherin crew?" I ask.

"You mean where's Scorpius?"

I sputter into my glass. "No," I say. "I mean- yeah. Him and Adele. And Darius, too, I guess. Are you still hanging with that wanker?"

Albus shrugs. "Sort of. He does his own thing most days, though. He knows I'm pissed at him."

"Right," I say quickly, glad that we've moved off the topic of Scorpius Malfoy. I honestly don't know why I reacted like that; my cheeks are burning right now. This drink must be potent.

Albus nods towards the far left of the room. "And speaking of Scorpius, there he is now."

I look over to see him standing with Adele. Adele is surveying the room, and I realise that must be how I look; wide-eyed, fascinated, and slightly grossed out. They're standing awfully close to one another.

"Are they going out?" I whisper to Albus.

Albus snorts. "No. C'mon."

Well, it's not like I'm waiting for a hot date, I joke to myself (God, I'm lame) and follow Albus across the room.

"Rose!" Adele greets me with a smile. She looks stunning in an inky blue dress, her glossy dark hair in loose waves down her back.

"Hey," I say, being insanely jealous of her hair all the while.

"You look beautiful," she says.

For some reason I choose this moment to look at Scorpius. He coughs, and looks down. Adele elbows him. "Er- Yeah, hi, Rose, you look nice."

"Thanks," I say flatly. "You both look nice."

"And let's not forgot who looks the best," Albus chimes in, putting on the grin he normally reserves for journalists and fangirls.

Adele rolls her eyes, but shoots him a small smile.

"Al!" comes a squeal, and we turn to see Cynthia Earl plodding off the dancefloor towards us.

"Hi Cynthia," Albus says, grinning at her.

And no wonder; she's in a tight purple dress that shows off all her curves (that are in all the right places, might I add - my rather lacklustre chest shrivels in comparison) and in her five-inch heels she looks like boobs on stilts.

"Al," she gushes again, barely sparing a glance at Adele, Scorpius, or myself. "Come dance with me."

"Okay." Albus smirks at Scorpius over his shoulder as he gets dragged onto the dancefloor.

I watch with amusement - and slight horror - as Cynthia slings her arms around his shoulders and basically starts dry humping him. Albus doesn't look like he minds. He's being all gropy. Ugh.

Adele's face is all but blank as she watches the pair. Scorpius just raises his brows and takes a swig of Scamander-martini. I spot Penelope still on the dancefloor with Sally - she's shooting glances at Scorpius, but so far hasn't come over. I'm pretty sure she hasn't spoken to him since her embarrassing attempt at seducing him in Potions.

"Hey, Rose."

Shit.

I turn around, fake smile plastered, and greet Andrew McLaggen who's standing behind me with a goblet full of green goo. "Hi."

Andrew gives me a lazy smile, his eyes travelling down the length of me before focusing back up on my face. He's swaying slightly. Oh, dear. "Rose. How are you? Long time no see."

"Um. I'm good, thanks. And I saw you last week."

"Hah- you're funny. I've always thought that. You being funny, I mean. Are you going to dance or what?"

I shift uncomfortably. His hulking form steps closer, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. "Erm, no, thank you. I'm not much of a dancer."

He lurches back again and waves a large hand around, almost hitting me in the face. "Nonsense! Pretty girl like you. C'mon, Rose, you gotta dance."

I glance behind me, only to find Scorpius and Adele have wandered over to the bar, leaving me alone with a drunk Andrew McLaggen. Great.

"Not really in the mood," I say with a grimace.

"Here, this'll get you in the mood," Andrew says, pouring half the contents of his goblet into my glass.

I look hesitantly down at it.

"Go on," he says when I don't drink from it. "I haven't poisoned it." To prove it, he sloshes the remainder of his goblet around and downs it all in one go.

Ah, what the hell.

I take a big gulp of the mysterious sludge and find it doesn't taste all that bad. At least, it's better than the foul 'martini's' Lysander is mixing. I feel a warmth spreading from my gut as it settles.

"Good, eh? Ask the ginger kid to mix your drinks - the blonde one is terrible…"

"Hah-" I say, and take another gulp of Hugo's masterpiece.

"Never thought I'd see you at a place like this," Andrew says.

I pretend to be offended. "What do you mean by that?"

Andrew grins. "Oh, you know, thought you'd be the type to go to Gobstones on a Saturday night."

My face flushes. "Hah. Gobstones. I went during the day today, actually…" I take another big gulp, and before I know it I've emptied my glass.

"Here, let me get you another," Andrew says, grabbing it off me. Before I can protest (I'm already feeling a bit light-headed) he's marching towards the bar.

I look around; Albus is still being molested by Cynthia, and Scorpius and Adele are nowhere to be seen. James, however, is sort of shimmying towards me.

"RED!" he bellows as he reaches me. Then his eyes widen. "Shit, I mean, Rose. You're looking goooood."

I flinch as he slings an arm around my shoulders and all but drags us down to the floor. "Hi, James."

"So how's my favourite cousin doing tonight?"

I make a face. "Fine. Looks like you're having fun."

He swings his free arm out. "I am indeed. What's there to worry about? I'm fan-fucking-tastic. Don't have a care in the world."

Alright, now he's just asking for sympathy. I jab him in the ribs and his arm slides off.

"You alright?" I ask, frowning.

James grins lazily at me. "You always look so grumpy. Lighten up, Rose-" He begins lifting my eyebrows with both thumbs, until I smack his hands away. "Ow! Fuck, woman, you're so violent… What the hell, is he coming over here?"

Andrew McLaggen is dutifully making his way back with a goblet in each hand. He nods curtly when he sees James. "Potter."

James stands up straighter, and for a moment I think he's suddenly sobered up by virtue of his pure dislike for the Ravenclaw captain, but he slurs, "Well if it isn' Faggy McLaggen."

"James!" I admonish.

Andrew's face darkens. "Piss off, Potter."

"So you can sleaze on my little cousin? Not a chance, sleaze-man."

I roll my eyes. "Really, James? Sleaze-man?" I grab the second goblet off Andrew. It's bright orange and it's bubbling. "Are we supposed to drink this?"

Andrew shrugs, still glaring at James. "Apparently."

And then Dominique hobbles over to us. Yay.

"Andrew, what the fuck?" she says.

"I am not sleaze-man!"

"What?" Dominique says. She swats a manicured hand around. "Whatever. Are you going to ask me to dance or what?"

Andrew seems taken aback. Then he glances at me (I shrug), shoves his goblet at James, and says, "Would you like to dance?"

They go off together, leaving me alone with James once more.

"That's rough," James says in a commiserating tone.

I clutch at my chest. "I don't know how I'm going to get through this."

James knocks back a swig of the bubbling mystery-drink. "Tastes like arse."

I take a sip. Agreed.

The song suddenly changes mid Aubrey Wistrella-solo to the thumping bass of the introduction to Victoire's Race Horse. We watch in amusement as Dominique pushes Andrew away and stomps off in the direction of the jukebox, no doubt to hex the person who dared play her sister's song at her own birthday party.

Tobias Wood comes stumbling over to us, then, his curly brown hair sticking up in all directions. He looks like a mad scientist, especially holding a goblet full of the bubbling orange concoction.

"Wotcha," he greets me.

"Thought you were going to go find Shanti!" James exclaims.

"Shh, not so loud!" Tobias yells back.

Having nothing to add to this conversation, I take another sip. Tobias tilts the bottom of my goblet up, pushing it towards my face. "Is that what you call drinking? Drink!"

"God," I say, wiping my chin as it splashes over the brim.

I oblige, though, and take bigger gulp, but then the idiot holds it firmly in place over my mouth until I'm sputtering for air.

"Toby!" I exclaim angrily.

"You drink like a pussy."

"I'm not a pussy!"

"You call yourself a Gryffindor?"

"That has nothing to do with it!"

James tuts and holds up a finger. "It has everything to do with it. Observe." Then he finishes the contents of his goblet.

"Idiot," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Bet you couldn't do that," James says.

"I wouldn't want to."

"Bet you couldn't even if you wanted to," Tobias quips.

I glare at them both. Fuck it. "Fine," I say, and follow suit. It burns all the way down.

James is grinning like a proud parent when I hand the empty goblet back to him. "Like a true Gryffindor."

"If I get drunk, it's your fault," I tell him.

He tips an imaginary hat at me. "I shall take full responsibility, m'lady."

James and Tobias start conversing about the elusive Shanti and how Tobias is supposed to shag her by tonight (ugh), whereupon I decide to walk off the sudden dizziness I'm feeling.

I sort of feel like throwing up, but I take deep breaths as I push my way past people and manage to keep it down. I need air.

I practically tumble out onto the balcony and drape myself over the bannisters as I close my eyes, savouring the cool breeze.

"Don't fall," drawls a voice that seems far away.

"I'm not going to fall," I say without turning around.

I can almost hear Scorpius smirk. "Alright, then. You seem to be indulging tonight."

"Ughhh," is my most articulate reply.

Scorpius comes up beside me and looks out onto the grounds. He's smoking again.

"Why do you do that?" I ask.

"Do what?"

"Smoke."

He looks at his cigarette as if he's only just noticed it. "We're all going to die some day."

I scoff, and say, "how existential of you, Mr Malfoy. And pray tell what has happened in your life to make you think such?"

I sound like a right tosser when I'm drunk.

At least, that's what I think I said. I'm not entirely sure I enunciated all the words correctly, and they may not have necessarily come out in that order, because Scorpius just frowns and mutters, "What're you on about…"

I hold the stone banisters and fall back, intending to look up at the sky and say something witty, but then my slack hands let go. Scorpius flings an arm out to stop me and I end up landing on his forearm on the concrete floor of the balcony.

He cries out in pain and I swear before rolling gracefully (not) off his trapped arm.

"Sorry," I gasp.

I'm still sitting down where I've fallen. There's no one else on the balcony, thank God. All the party-goers are on the dancefloor thrashing around to the classic Weird Sisters Boogie Witch inside. I put my face in my hands.

Scorpius lowers himself down next to me. "It's fine." He twists his arm about a few times, grimacing and holding it with his other hand.

"Sorry," I say again, looking up sheepishly.

"You're not exactly a feather, are you?" he says with a smirk.

"Thanks."

Scorpius laughs at my stony expression. "Relax, Miss Weasley, you know you're fit."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

His lips quirk into this weird, lopsided smile. "You really don't see it, do you?"

"See what?"

Scorpius shakes his head. "Never mind."

The cigarette is only half-burned but it's dropped to the ground in my dramatic fall, and from his sitting position he kicks out a leg and grinds the end with his leather boot.

"Do you know it's bad for your health?" I tell him.

"Do you know you're not my mother?"

"Whatever," I say again.

Scorpius sighs, looking out towards the Forbidden Forest we can see slivers of through the railings. "I started when I met this Muggle over the holidays… Fifth year... Her name was Amy."

I look over at him sharply. Scorpius Malfoy? Interacting with a Muggle? Don't be absurd.

He goes on when I don't respond. "She was older. I told her I was eighteen. We hung out a lot. Smoked. Whatever. Dad found out I was 'fraternising with a Muggle' and he told me to stop seeing her. We got into an argument…" He pauses, then, and folds his long legs in. "So he found out where she lived and wiped her memory."

I'm not sure how to respond to that. Actually, that's a lie, there's only one question on my mind but it's really not appropriate. I just keep my mouth shut and nod seriously.

Scorpius raises his brows. "You're not going to say anything? Come on, Rose, not even a Malfoy-related dig?"

"I wouldn't do that," I say defensively.

Scorpius snorts. "You have done before. You and the rest of this bloody school."

I almost flinch back from the bitterness in his voice. "Sorry," I say stupidly.

"No need. It's history. Just all fucking history."

I touch his arm, and Scorpius jumps as if he's been electrocuted. "I think you're a nice person," I tell him.

I don't expect the laugh that bursts out of him at my words. "Thanks."

"Where's Adele?" I ask. My poor drink-addled mind cannot deal with serious topics just now.

"Went back to the dorms. Al is chasing tail, don't think she can stomach it."

My eyes widen. "Adele- and Al?"

"Oh- shit. Forget that. Fuck, she's gonna kill me…"

Why have I not see this before? I've always thought it was Scorpius and Adele.

"You mean- Adele likes him? And he doesn't like her? But she's so nice! How can he go for Snot-face Earl over Adele?"

Scorpius looks like he regrets telling me anything. "Just- shhhh. Don't tell anyone. Especially not Al-"

"Why the hell not? Someone's got to. That banshee is going to eat his soul."

"Merlin, Weasley, just don't. Al's a strange bloke. Thinks Adele's too good for him, or some shit."

"Yeah she's way too pretty for him, but seriously, Cynthi-"

Scorpius holds a hand up to my mouth as a bunch of Ravenclaw seventh years file out onto the balcony, casting curious glances at us sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Mmphhh!" I say through his palm. It's all calloused against my lips. I am basically making out with his hand. As soon as the thought forms, I blush in spite of myself.

"You're mental," Scorpius says.

I punch him in the thigh. "Don't call me that."

Scorpius grins. "So what's gotten into you tonight? Getting drunk on school property, that's not like you."

"I'm allowed to be drunk if I want to be."

"Actually-"

"Yeah, yeah," I say, waving his lame rebuttal away. "I'm not as big of a wet blanket as everyone thinks."

"Oh really."

"Yeah," I say childishly.

Scorpius quirks a blonde eyebrow. "Says the only girl in the school taking seven NEWT classes."

"You're taking seven NEWT classes," I point out.

"Astronomy hardly counts."

"It does count! It's hard. And boring."

Scorpius tilts his head back to look up at the starry night sky. "Ahh, Weasley, you don't know what you're missing."

I scoff. "Drawing charts and looking through telescopes…"

Scorpius suddenly unfolds his legs and hauls himself up. He holds out a hand. "Come on, then."

I stare stupidly at his hand for a moment, then up at his smirk. "What?"

"I'll prove it to you. How awesome Astronomy is."

I shake my head. "No way. The Astronomy Tower is ages away - what if we get caught?"

Scorpius keeps his hand out. "And what was that you were saying before? Not a wet blanket, eh?"

I take his hand. "Fine."

He hauls me up and I sort of flop onto him. I grope his chest to keep myself from falling over, then immediately snap my hands to my sides as I straighten, mortified.

"Keep it in your pants," he jokes.

"So are we going to do this or what?" I say, my face flushing.

"Alright, alright."

We go inside and snake our way through the crowd. I spot Lorcan and Lily dancing together (I give her the thumbs up; she flips me off), and I duck my head as we pass James snogging Greta Longbottom in the corner. After Scorpius shuts the door to the Room of Requirement behind us, it's dead quiet in the dark corridor.

I follow Scorpius through the gloom of the castle, breathing shallowly, as if that'll keep us from getting caught. He doesn't say a word and neither do I. It's only as I'm huffing and puffing next to him as we climb up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower does he say, "And I'm the one with the smoker's lungs."

I whack him with the side of my arm, too out of breath to retort.

We reach the airy observatory of the Astronomy Tower. There's a massive telescope facing out of one of the tall windows, and Scorpius leads us towards it. I stand by as he bends and looks into it with one eye, swivelling it around, making small adjustments to the lens. It all seems very technical.

"This is awesome," I drawl.

He peeks up at me. "Patience." Then he goes back to fiddling with all the dials and knobs. I notice it doesn't look like a regular telescope; it's got a wide barrel with several notches down the length of it, and a series of copper wires around the eyepiece.

Scorpius finally straightens up. I move to look through the lens, but he stick an arm out and lifts his wand towards the telescope. Wordlessly he taps it, swirls an intricate pattern around it, and a shaft of light bursts from the end of it into the room. I gasp as a kind of hologram of stars illuminate the tower. Brilliant constellations of lights shimmer around us, right up to the vaulted ceiling.

I turn round and round, taking it all in with wonder. "It's beautiful," I murmur.

"Look, there's Cassiopeia," Scorpius says, pointing vaguely towards some lights at the far left of the room. "And Cepheus next to it." He twirls his arm around. I just nod. "And there's my father."

"What?"

"Draco," he says, grinning, making a zig zag formation with his arm as he points ahead of us to a cluster of stars.

I watch him as he points out more formations, his pale face glowing in the cool light of the stars. I smile. "You really love this stuff, don't you?"

Scorpius laughs. "Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain." Then he pulls out a small flask from inside his jacket and takes a swig of the contents.

"What's that?"

"I don't think you need any more."

"I wasn't asking for some…"

He just grins at me. I notice his teeth; they're very straight. I wonder whether he's had them altered. Probably. They're practically perfect. As are his eyes, so grey and piercing…

"Err… You alright?"

I blink at him, realising I've just been staring this whole time. Doing my best to preserve my dignity (which, mind you, is pretty low at this point) I give him a dazzling smile and say breezily, "I'm peachy."

Peachy? What the hell, Rose?

I realise that we're standing very close to each other - I seem to have huddled near him as he was giving me the Astronomy lesson. I step back, eyes still locked irrevocably in his intense gaze.

"Scorpius?" I say.

"Yeah?"

"You remember that night? Before break?"

"Yeah…?"

"You remember you said you wanted to tell me something?"

He stares at me for what seems like minutes, drinking me in with those stormy grey eyes. Then he steps forward. Tilting my chin gently up with one hand, he draws me against him with his other and before I know it we're locked in a passionate kiss. He tastes like gin and cigarettes, but I hardly notice; his lips are soft, his tongue playful, not overbearing, and the whole thing is intoxicating. I feel more drunk than ever.

I'm deliciously aware of his hands around my waist and I let mine wander over his back, then up to the nape of his neck, entangling my fingers in his hair. It's soft and silky and all that I imagined it would be.

Finally we break apart.

His expression is indiscernible as he says, "I wanted to tell you, I think you're fascinating, Rose Weasley."