Rose slept through breakfast. The Sunday after the soon-to-be-infamous quidditch win deserved to be lazy, in her humble opinion. When she finally pulled herself from beneath the covers, a fire blazing in the old fashioned stove, Rose swung her legs over the bed groggily. Her nose crinkled when her feet hit the floor, and a laugh bubbled from her lips when she found confetti first stuck to the bottom of her heel and then again when she saw it in her hair in the mirror.
The Gryffindors' celebration had lasted well into the night, and Rose could still hear the chants ringing out in her memory. Another step towards the lavatory caused her brow to furrow. More paper was found underfoot, but this time a slow, knowing grin plastered itself on her lips.
"By the way, nice gloves," the final line read, and no signature followed.
Scorpius Malfoy was a puzzle, indeed. Rose thought as much as she folded the paper away into her trunk, tucked safely away with letters from her parents, Gran, and Beauxbaton pen pal.
As she floated towards the shower, she replayed her time as his tutor over and over again in her mind. She had been wary, hopeful, entertained, then defeated, all in a span of six weeks' time. Somewhat of a friendship had formed, until he forgot his end of the unspoken bargain and fed her to the wolves among his fellow Slytherins. She had taken the wrap for him when a potion gone wrong landed her in the hospital wing, and he had repaid her by letting Aubrey Pince smear her name with vicious laughter.
Rose and Scorpius had a confrontation later that day in the aisles of a Hogsmeade quidditch shop, and she refused then and there to continue to help him. She had done her best to put the incident and her former pupil from her mind, but then he attempted to bribe his way back into her graces with a pair of expensive quidditch gloves.
Wrapped in a towel, her red curls dripping onto the hardwood floor, Rose spotted said gloves at the foot of her bed. His bribe had worked.
When she emerged into the land of the living, breakfast was at an end, and students were filtering out onto the grounds for a jaunt in the snow or retreating to the library to finish –and in some cases begin- assignments due the following day. As luck would have it, a certain fifth year Slytherin and his posse stepped into the entry way just as Rose descended the stairs.
Scorpius caught her eye and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though he remained in conversation with Patricia Nott and her brother Derrick. He turned to move with them toward the dungeons.
"Scorpius, wait."
The sound of her voice surprised all four of them, and the trio ahead of her turned in confusion.
"What do you want, Weasley?" snapped Patricia, linking her arm with Scorpius possessively.
Rose straightened her posture and continued toward them. "I'd like to talk to Scorpius, Patty," she replied, lingering on the nickname. The brunette despises being called Patty with a religious conviction, and her eyes shot daggers at Rose.
Scorpius seemed amused at the standoff, and skillfully released himself from his companion's grip. "I'll meet you in the common room, Trish." His remark calmed her, though her glare still snapped in Rose's direction before she and Derrick continued on their way.
The entry hall was fairly empty at this, save a bustling bunch of third years hurrying to catch the tail end of breakfast; even so, Scorpius dropped his voice when he said, "I imagine you got my note," clearing his throat once finished as if to deny speaking at all.
Rose, too, spoke softly, though she steeled herself for what was to come. "I did. And I've thought about it."
He quirked an eyebrow. "About what?"
"Tutoring you again."
Triumph glinted in his eyes and a smirk spread wide across his face. "I knew you'd come to your—"
"There are conditions." Rose cut him off, raising a hand to halt him.
This surprised him, but his smirk lingered. "Conditions?" he repeated.
"Yes." Rose held his gaze, trying to ignore the amused light in his gray eyes as she lifted a finger to indicate her requirements. "First, we meet when I say and where I say." No more hiding in the back corners of the library or tutoring sessions being ditched for quidditch practice.
Scorpius's eyes narrowed, but he did not protest. "I'm listening."
"Second," Rose continued, lifting another neatly manicured finger, "no more mocking, tripping, teasing, or torturing Weasleys. Me and my family are off limits. Not Hugo, not Albus, not –"
"Merlin's beard, that's the entire school," he scoffed, eyes rolling. "You're my tutor, not my girlfriend. I can say whatever I bloody well want about whoever I bloody well—"
"Fine," Rose snapped at him. "Leave Hugo, Lily, and Albus out of it."
Again his gaze narrowed, and the scoff melted into a smirk. "And what about you?"
It was her turn to roll her eyes. "I know it brings you so much pleasure, so fine. Have at it. But not when I'm around, alright?" If nothing else, Rose could at least help her family receive less of his well-aimed jabs and jaunts. She didn't care what he said or thought about her anyway. Right?
Scorpius's gaze wandered around the entry hall as if looking for an escape. When his eyes settled on her once more, the familiar glint was back. "No more conditions?"
"No more conditions." Rose folded her arms over her chest and looked up at him. "Do we have a deal?"
His smirk, ever present, twitched as he nodded. "It's a deal."
Rose exhaled in relief and triumph. "Good. We start tonight at seven. In the library. Don't be late." With that, Rose turned on her heel and scurried into the Great Hall to catch the last of breakfast. When she reached her seat, she dared a glance back toward the door and was surprised to find her pupil still fixated in the middle of the entry way.
Scorpius lingered a moment longer, then headed for the dungeons as originally intended. Was it her imagination or did he wink at her when he nodded and walked away? Rose brushed away the thought and buttered her scone.
Maybe she should have come up with more conditions. And maybe she needed to give her own beating heart a good talking to.