7.
7.23.11
Winter Wonderland
ScorpiusRoxanne
apple, flirt, icicle
Scorpius first notices Roxanne one cold day in December. She's sitting on a stone bench on the courtyard as all around her, students are taking in the first snow of the season. There's an icicle in her gloved hands, of all things. Scorpius is supposed to be helping Al with his Potions essay but he can't stop looking at this girl—a Weasley, obviously, from the looks of her ginger hair. She looks a lot like a porcelain doll, with that pale, pale skin and one green vein visible on her forehead. Her cheeks are twin spots of pink, despite the blue and bronze scarf wrapped tightly around her neck to ward off the chill, and her lips are as red as a ripe apple. And before he even knows it, Scorpius finds himself on his feet, pumping himself with confidence because he's a fourth year now and fourth years aren't supposed to be afraid.
"Al, what's that girl's name?" he asks his raven haired friend.
Al looks up and blanches. "It's my cousin Roxanne, but don't you even try to flirt, or else Fred will—"
But Scorpius has already walked away, away from Albus's fear and apprehension, over to the stone bench where she's sitting, still holding onto that icicle. He looks down at her for a moment—she's so pretty up close—before clearing his throat. The girl blinks up at him with big brown eyes. A beat passes before he can recall why he's actually here.
"What's that you got there, Roxanne?" he says casually.
"An icicle," she replies. She lifts it to her eyes and looks through it, not looking the least bit surprised that he knows her name. "It's so pretty, but when you try to see through it, everything's so blurry. Isn't that strange?"
Scorpius nods, although he doesn't quite know what this has to do with anything, but he decides, right there in that courtyard that is fast becoming a winter wonderland, that strange might be good, because she's so pretty, and everything else is a blur.