Lots of love to all my readers and reviewers! Warning: This chapter contains extreme fluffiness.
Chapter 3: One and Only Rose
"There may be many flowers in a man's life, but there is only one rose."
– Unknown
"It's your turn to pay for butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks," Rose announces, sliding into a seat at the Slytherin table, completely oblivious to the attention her halo of frizzy red flyaway hair is getting.
Scorpius squirms, and concentrates on pieces of egg on his plate. "About that…"
"Don't try to tell me you don't have any money," Rose laughs. "I know for a fact you won a bet with Albus last week."
"Rose," he decides there's no easy way to break the news to her, "I'm going with Shayla."
"Oh, she can come too," Rose says absentmindedly, helping herself to a slice of toast.
"We're going alone. Like on-a-date alone."
She stops with her hand halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"I know we already made plans but I've had a crush on Shayla for a while and she said yes when I asked her to go to Hogsmeade with me so I hope you don't mind," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.
She stands up abruptly. "No, it's fine. I was actually planning to go to the library and finish my planet chart for Astronomy today."
"Rose…"
"I said it's fine," she repeats fiercely. "Go have a good time with your girlfriend."
He watches her walk away, and the image stays burned into his memory the whole time he is in Madam Puddifoot's.
Without really knowing why, he says goodbye to Shayla only ten minutes into their date, during a story about how she was once at a nail salon and all the colors were unflattering to her skin tone.
Brushing hot pink confetti from his hair, he walks back to the castle, his feet seeming to know exactly where to go.
He finds her in a broom closet just off the Charms corridor. The dim light reveals her puffy, red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks.
Instinctively, because there seems to be no other option, he crawls inside and shuts the door, throwing them into pitch darkness.
His hand finds hers, and they sit for an eternity until her sniffling fades away.
"Do you remember the day we met?" he starts, loosening his hand in case she wants to pull away; her grip only grows tighter.
Taking this as a good sign, he continues, "My father told me to stay away from you. 'Nothing good can come from those Weasleys,' he said. But you were so, I don't know, vivacious. So full of life. I'd never met anyone like it. I was hooked like a moth is drawn to a light."
His eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and he sees that she seems slightly more cheerful. Not exactly laughing, but no longer crying either.
"I remember you standing up for me when no one else would. You had complete faith that I wasn't just a son of a Death Eater, but a person in my own right." Now he wants to cry, too. All the things he should have told her these past six years but never did come pouring out of his mouth.
"You were my best friend, next to Al, of course. I loved you like a best friend. But after a few years, something changed... No, it didn't change, I had just never noticed before." He stops and notices how intently she is watching him. "I love you."
"I love you too," she whispers.
He cups her face in his hand and kisses her.
Because there is nothing left to say.
Because, deep down, they both knew this would happen since they first met on the Hogwarts Express.
Because even if he did have crushes on other girls, he was only really ever in love with Rose.