AN: Before you all go crazy on me, I want to let you know that I meant to not capitalize Scorpius' name at the very end of this chapter. I do appreciate you guys correcting my grammar (I've fixed it, although I've yet to repost it) but this is not one of those cases. Now for replies...
Stromsten: I'm getting to it, don't worry. Rose understands Scorpius better than most of his friends (it's discussed in this chapter) and the topic of Scorpius' attention on her even before all this happened will be covered, just much later on.
Han: Thanks, I just really love it. I'm glad you appreciate the difference in characters as well.
Accioglasses98: Whoops, I didn't notice that. I edited it (thanks for pointing it out by the way) and I'll repost it soon. Thanks!
Guest: Why don't you have a name? I want to credit you for fixing my grammar! Like I said to Accioglasses98, I edited but just haven't reposted it yet. Thanks though, I didn't catch that.
Invisible Scars: No worries, we're getting to a lot of Rosie-centric interaction. As for Scor, well, he's supposed to be like that. Well, not like a girl per say, but more vain and conceited than most guys. I'm glad the short chapters work. This ones a tad bit longer (I think) but nothing too dramatic.
Hampton, TexGleek15, Purple Pizza: Thanks! I'm glad you guys like the story.
In the moments I realize this I stand there open-mouthed in shock. I had a crush on Rose bloody Weasley. My best friend. Al would never let me hear the end of it. Creevey and Frank would laugh. The whole school would go up in hysterics. My fan girls would faint in their spots. It would be a disaster if anyone found out, and by the way things were looking right now, they probably would soon. Plus, if they did realize that I, Scorpius Malfoy, had even the tiniest bit of a crush on Rosie, they'd think that I wasn't as perfect as I made myself out to be. And yeah, I took Rosie's words to heart, but I'd been perfect for years, how could I just stop now? Regardless, at that moment, my thoughts zoomed like Durmstrang quidditch players, zigzagging around and crossing paths, just narrowly avoiding crashing into each other and risking danger, just for the thrill. My mind was a jumbled mess and I didn't know how to clean it up.
"Scor?" Rosie asked, waving a hand in front of my face, "Are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, fine." I say, blinking myself back to reality.
"Okay, well the potions done now," Rosie smiles, "Let me just put it in a vial and set it on Professor Cromwell's desk."
"Right," I say weakly, because how in the world am I supposed to deal with something like this? How am I supposed to deal with unwillingly finding her attractive when I never have before, not just with her, but anyone?
"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Rosie asks again as we walk to the library to shelve the books.
"Yeah." I say shortly, keeping my gaze directed on the ground instead of on her.
Rosie huffs, "If you say so." We're at the library 2 minutes tops, and as soon as we get there, Rosie briskly walks over to the librarian, Ms. French, and asks her where the books that need to be shelved are. I linger by the door instead of follow her over to the desk.
"Oh Rosie," Ms. French smiles, shaking her head, "I told you that I'd let you borrow the book if you had just waited instead of going into the Restricted section. The carts over there in the corner." She catches sight of me and her smile abruptly drops and turns into a scowl. She's not that fond of me, but I can see where she's coming from. I mean, I'd made fun of the woman more times than I can count with Al, Frank, and Creevey, and she's probably heard most of it. It also doesn't help that I've been kicked out of the library several times on account of being disruptive, "Mr. Malfoy. What brings you here?"
"I, uh," I start, shifting on my feet, "I have to shelf books too."
Ms. French rolls her eyes, "No surprise there. Well, you two can work together. Rosie, if you'd be a dear and do teach him how they're supposed to be shelved."
"Of course Ms. French," Rosie smiles and tugs on my hand, pulling me toward the cart of books. I immediately flush, involuntarily freaking out on the inside because she's bloody touching me, and her skin feels so soft and delicate and- Ms. French clears her throat and I snap out of it as she looks at me amusedly, turning an even darker red.
"Well, c'mon then Scor!" Rosie smiles, and I'm led over by the books. The carts on this side of the shelves, only 10 feet or so away from Ms. French, which means if anything happens that could possibly cause me to be completely mortified, she'll see it. Rosie stands to the left of the car and I nearly trip over my feet to get to the right side because I don't want to be distracted yet again. She picks up the first book and turns to me with a smile, "The is A Day in the Life of Jason Melville." Who the heck was that? "It's a biography." This wasn't working. "Normally the shelf is farther away, but lucky for us, the biography shelves are actually right here!" Her eyes light up when she's happy, and it's actually really pretty. "Now, since this is by Ambrose Woodstreet it goes in the W section at the very bottom of the biography shelf." Like really, really pretty. It's like looking into the depths of the Black Lake. "And in between Woodhouse and Wright." You could drown in them, sink to the bottom of the Lake and never come back up for air. "Got it?"
"What?" I ask, then realize that I've caught absolutely none of her speech. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad. This is really, really-
Rosie chuckles, "It's alphabetical order Scor, I'm sure you can figure it out yourself."
"Right," I say, my cheeks burning as Ms. French laughs from behind us. I grab the next book- Amortentia: A Guide. Figures. "I'mjustgonnagoshelfthis." And I dart around the other side of the shelves. As I shelf the books, I can't help but glance at her every once in while. She looks like she's in her element, at home. It's not odd for a Ravenclaw to spend a lot of time in the library, but there are some that are different, and I'm one of the few that don't. Rosie is however, which is why she's such great friends with Ms. French. It's a whole minute later that I realize that I'm not even thinking about the humiliation of this situation like I'd originally planned, and instead thinking about her. There's no one to see the redness of my cheeks this time, which I'm grateful for, and I wait till it dies down to grab a book from the cart. Rosie's already there when I get there, so I snatch the book on top, hoping to get out of there quickly. The only problem? Rosie reaches for it the same time I do, and her fingers trace across my palm as I retract my hand, my face heating up yet again.
"S-sorry about that." I say, ducking my head down and not meeting her eye.
"You're definitely not feeling alright," Rosie says, "Maybe you have a fever-" She goes to put her hand on my forehead and check my temperature and I reel backwards, crashing into the shelf behind me and hitting my heads in the wood. Why can't I stop acting like this?
"Ow!" I rub my head, pouting a little, trying my best not to blush all that much.
Rosie chuckles amusedly, "Okay then, Scor. Well, there's only a few books left, so we're almost done. And then you can rest for a little while. You definitely need it." We finish shelving the rest of the books pretty quickly, with no more awkward encounters between the two of us. Ms. French calls out for us to move the cart back to the front, so Rosie and I push it back to the original spot against the shelf. She opens her mouth to say something but notices something behind me and her eyes go wide, "Oh shoot, I told Amelia that I'd help her with Astronomy and I'm late, I'll see you later Scor!" And then, she leans up and kisses my cheek. It's action that she's done a million times before and will probably do a million times after, but it's something that hasn't happened since my revelation. And it turns my entire brain into mush. It's worse than just a brush of the hand, because there's bloody sparks and all I seem to be able to think about is her lips on my own lips instead of just on my cheek. I sink to the floor, back against the shelves, with what's probably a stunned expression on my face.
"Scorpius," Ms. French laughs, "If it means anything, it happens to everyone eventually."
"What?" I ask, snapping out of whatever it is that I was in.
She chuckles, "Everyone has a crush at some point. It's just life."
My cheeks flush and my mouth goes dry, "Is it that obvious?"
She nods, wincing a little, "To everyone but her probably, well, you should get back to your dorm. Good night Scorpius."
"'Night Ms. French." I say before heading back to the Heads' dorm. When I got there, I collapsed on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, grinning.
"Mate?" Al ducked his head up from behind the opposing loveseat, followed by Frank Longbottom and Dylan Thomas, "You okay?"
"Yeah…" I trailed off, not really completely responding, as I was thinking of today's events. Or, in better words- Rosie.
"Are you on something from Uncle George's shop?" Al asked, raising an eyebrow, "Because you look sorta dreamy." All I consciously heard? Al interrupting my thoughts.
"No," I say, "I'm not on anything." I felt like it though. Maybe there was something in the food, because even though I felt majorly off my game, I felt pointlessly happy for no given reason.
"SCOR-ATTACK!" Frank jumped up, throwing a pillow at me. Not quite out of my trance which rendered me unable to catch myself, I fell off the sofa and crashed to the ground.
"Ow! Really Frank?" I asked, rubbing my elbow which stung a little.
Frank laughed, "Hey look, Scor's back!"
"Yeah," Al says, a bewildered expression on his face, "What was with that?"
"N-nothing!" I say, and then immediately realize my mistake as Al picks up a pillow and starts hitting me with it.
"You complete git! I told you, that's my cousin!" He shrieks, "You can bed any bloody girl you want but not my cousin!"
"It's not even like that!" I defend myself, pushing the pillow away.
"Sure it isn't!" Al says sarcastically, trying to maneuver the pillow around my hands, "Like you'd ever actually like her."
"I do!" I say, forced to lie on the ground to get out of the pillow's range, "Have you ever noticed how cute she looks when she concentrates? Or how pretty her eyes look when they light up because she's talking about something she loves? Or-" Al hits my face with the pillow now that I've lost focus in defending myself, "-ow."
"Then why'd you come in here all dreamy?!" Al asked, holding the pillow above me in a threatening manner.
"She kissed my cheek." I grin goofily, bringing my finger up to trace the spot where her lips were pressed against my skin. It's silent for a moment, then Al abruptly starts cracking up and rolls around on the floor laughing. Frank follows suit and Dylan just looks bewildered.
"I-" Al cracks up again, "I can't take it!" He laughs some more, "Make it stop! Merlin's beard Scor-" He catches his breath again, "C-crushing on Rosie?!"
My cheeks flush red, "Shut up Al."
"Ha- you're blushing! Oh, this is great. This is so great." He grins, "I can't wait till she walks in and Scor makes an idiot out of himself."
"What are you three even doing in here?" I mutter, changing the subject as I sit up again.
"Gryffindor common room got too crowded." Dylan said, "And Finnigan was singing some bloody Irish songs again. Hate the guy." Angus Finnegan was indeed a bit annoying and he couldn't sing for his life, despite his beliefs. It didn't help that all he sung were Irish Folk songs which didn't match his pitch at all, if you could even say he had any.
"And so, we came here-" Frank said as the door burst open and Rosie walked in.
Upon seeing the four of us on the floor, she raised an eyebrow, and then glared at me, "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you know that if McGonagall sees non-Heads in the Heads dorm at this hour she'll have our heads. Plus, you guys ripped the pillow!"
"Oooo," Frank grinned, "Scor is getting yelled at-" Rose sent him a death glare and he immediatly shut up.
"That's what I thought," She continued pleasantly, "Now, if you are not a Head, then please GET OUT OF THIS DORM!" Al, Frank, and Dylan scrambled out of the dorm each with a 'Sorry Rosie!' As the door swung closed behind them, she turned to me, "Scor, I don't want my position removed. I get that you miss bunking with the guys but you do realize that it's almost curfew."
"In my defense," I grin, "They were in here before I arrived."
"Oh." Rosie says quietly, "Sorry then." An awkward silence follows. It's unbearable and smothering, yet I can't think of something to say to break it. And so, I sit there on the floor like the idiot I am, withering in the deadly silence. It gives me time to think though, and for that, I'm grateful. Because it's only then that I realize I'd just insulted myself for the first time, doubted my capabilities, demeaned myself with crude words. In all my years, I had only done that unto others. Now I was stuttering, losing focus, complimenting others, and insulting myself. All because of her. I decided that I didn't like having a crush, despite the happy feeling that was nestled inside me, because it was the first domino to fall. The rest had fallen as a result of it, my life, my perfection, reduced to shambles. Where had the Great Scorpius Malfoy gone? Where was the star of the Scorpius Malfoy show? Hidden under a great big pile of horrid lovesickness for his best friend? I didn't like it. I wanted the old me back. The one who had the means and the capability, the confidence to be perfect. I didn't want to the the not-so-great scorpius malfoy who spent his time mooning over Rose Weasley. I was not him. I would never be him. Regardless of what seemed to be playing out, I would never be that not-so-great scorpius malfoy.