A/n: Here is the Scorose that some of have desperately been waiting for.

Rose

Our win against Hufflepuff has all of us on cloud nine – but the buzz has to end eventually, and mine is after leaving Potions class with the task of brewing a perfect elixir to induce euphoria. There is more hands-on work in the Advanced Potions class then I had anticipated, and it might lead to a Troll as a mark and a disappointed look from mother – two things that I strive to avoid.

I'm contemplating the ways that I can improve my grade without going so far as bribing my professor when it happens.

There's a vanishing step on the staircase between the third and fourth floor. If you forget to jump over it, there's a good chance that you're stuck in it until someone comes along to help you.

And I've just stepped in it.

The bell for class to begin echoes down the corridors and I realise after a moment of tugging that I'm stuck until the end of class. It's lucky though, I have a spare right now.

I sit down on the step above the one that has my leg caught in its grasp and reach for my book bag. I'm only a few minutes in to my Transfiguration text though before a voice calls out to me.

'Miss Weasley? My, you certainly are stuck, aren't you.'

I turn to see Scorpius Malfoy walking down the steps towards me.

'Yes,' I reply, putting down my book. 'I am. Is there any chance of you helping me out, or shall I wait until class ends?'

'Why would I leave a damsel in such distress?' He asks, dropping his bag next to mine.

I stand at the same moment that he kneels and we look at each other for a moment.

To tell you the truth, even after six years of him being friends with my cousin, I don't know much about the boy kneeling in front of me. I know that he's the son of Draco and Astoria Malfoy, whose family fought against my parents during the Great Battle. I know that he is rather handsome – even if I didn't think it myself, every other girl at the school would have drilled it into me by now – with short, shock blonde hair and a sculpted, aristocratic face. But beyond that, he's a boy of ice and stone. He almost never speaks unless the comment will entertain everyone in the room, and haven't I spoken to him alone. Usually Albus is standing by as the mediator, thinking that we'll break out into a fight or something.

'Put your hands on my shoulders.' He says after a moment, turning his attention to my leg. I do as I'm told and he grasps my calf, pulling hard. After a moment, his hold slips to my knee. None of his pulling seems to be working. He stops, placing one of his hands on under my knee and the other on the back of the thigh. This move surprises me greatly and I freeze. He does as well, possibly thinking that he has crossed a boundary.

I might have thought so too, had my mind not been occupied revelling in the feel of his cool hands on my warm leg.

I finally find my voice. 'You're hands are cold.'

'Sorry.' He removes them for a moment and rubs them together before retaking his hold on my knee and thigh.

'And they're rather high.'

He looks up at my tomato red face and grins. 'You can blame the skirt for that.' He replies, turning back to the task at hand. 'But I think I'd thank it.'

I don't have time to think about what he means by that because my leg suddenly pops free. I hop around for a moment before falling backwards on my bum. He laughs at my gracelessness and I scowl. Scorpius reaches for our bags and stands, and I follow suit. He hands me my bag and we walk to the bottom of the stairs. We both turn to the left and then stop to look at each other.

'Where are you headed?' He asks politely.

'The library, for the Potions assignment.' I pick at the strap of my bag.

'Shall we walk together?' He gestures down the hall with a faint smile.

We set off for my book-filled heaven in silence. It wares on me. Should there be conversation? The silence is neither awkward nor comfortable, it's simply silence. I rack my brain for suitable topics, but before I can think of one, he speaks.

'I saw the match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You fly very well.'

My mouth works for a moment and then I smile. 'Thank you.'

'The Ravenclaw-Slytherin match will be something amazing, really.' He continues. 'You and me after the snitch... I can't say that I'm not afraid of losing to you. Your feint was perfectly executed.'

'Tell that to Amelie!' I say without thinking. 'She seems to think that I was off balance – I've been trying to perfect it since.'

I quiet and the silence returns.

'So, Advanced Potions.' I say, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. 'How are you liking it?'

'Well enough, I enjoy doing the actual brewing – though I'm rather shoddy when it comes to writing essays.' Scorpius confesses. 'I can never find enough to write about without repeating myself.'

'Really?' I say, laughing quietly. 'It's the opposite for me. I smudge through the brewing, but I can write twenty feet on the magical qualities of a Beer Root in regards to potion-making.'

He laughs along with me, and then suddenly stopped walking.

'What?' I ask.

'That's it Rose!' He shouts, laughing loudly. He grabs my hand and pulls me down the corridor, nearly skipping. His sudden display of energy scares me – and excites me.

His grey eyes seem to sparkle, showing his happiness, and he runs his fingers through his usually pristine hair, giving it a messy, worn look. There's a lightness in his step that I just can't match. The boy that I'd thought a stone as a heart, has happiness and joy. It certainly suits him better. I wonder if this is how he is around his friends. Does this make me his friend?

Had I thought this another time, when Scorpius wasn't forcing me to run down the corridor to keep up with him, I probably would have stopped in my tracks.

Scorpius Malfoy... my friend? Daddy wouldn't like that very much. He told me specifically before I got on the Hogwarts Express in first year not to get close to this boy, who is now holding hands with me.

Strangely enough, I don't mind the contact at all.

Finally, I find my words.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, we're the answer to each other's problems!' We round a corner and he pushes open the large library doors. Upon entering the room he quiets considerably. 'We'll work together outside of the classroom. You can teach me how to write essays worth O's, and I'll help you with your brewing.'

I'm lead over to the tables dedicated to potions students. The tops are scorched and covered in stains. When we reach them, he looks down and releases my hand before pulling out two chairs and places his bag on the table in front of us.

'We'll start with brewing the elixir to induce euphoria since it's due for next class.' He says, withdrawing a cauldron the size of a fist from his bag, then enlarges it.

Ah I remember the days, back in first and second year when we didn't have the skills to shrink items and were forced to lug our cauldrons around. Thank goodness I mastered the levitation charm early on, or else my arms would have been too sore to write!

'But the potion has to sit for twenty-four hours – madam Pince won't let us leave them in here over night.' I say, looking around for the hawk-like librarian. She's across the room lecturing some Hufflepuff boy about flipping the pages of his book too loudly.

'Have you never levitated a cauldron before?' He asks, quirking his eyebrow at me.

'Of course I have.' I roll me eyes. I had just been reminiscing about this.

'Good, then we'll take them to the potions classroom before dinner and tomorrow is Saturday so we can spend the afternoon working on them.'

'Alright.' I reply, then realise that he is ready to begin and I've not even got my cauldron out. I rush to remove my things from my bag.

Once I'm done, Scorpius opens his potions book and points to the correct page. I step closer to read the instructions.

'Now, what do you usually do first?' He asks me, sitting down in one of the chairs and regarding me with a pensive stare.

'Erm, check the measurements and prepare the ingredients?' It comes out as a question.

'Wrong.' He tells me plainly. I scowl and he chuckles. 'Don't be sore, love. Being wrong is all a part of the learning process. First of all, you need to take into account all of the information provided. What are the side effects?'

'Excessive singing and nose-tweaking.' I reply smoothly, knowing my answer to be correct.

'And do you know how to counterbalance these effects?'

I rack my brain. I've researched this before, for an essay. 'Mint sprigs.'

Scorpius grins, holding out a handful of sprigs to me. I look up at him suspiciously.

'I nicked them from the professor's storeroom, alright? I'm a Slytherin after all.' He says proudly. 'Wait until old Rosier takes a sip of your potion though and doesn't feel the urge to tweak your nose or let an old Celestia Warbeck song loose.'

I sigh, torn between taking house points from him and laughing at the horrible image he has painted in my mind. I choose the latter and he joins in.

'Alright,' He finally says. 'Now we begin measuring the ingredients. We'll start with by crushing the shrivelfig and peeling the castor beans. Measurements please?'

'Four teaspoons of crushed shrivelfig and a cup of castor beans.' I read, finger tracing down the page of the book.

We set to work quickly. Scorpius shows me how to crush figs in the most effective way and how to measure ingredients precisely. We add the figs and the beans to boiling water and go about stirring at proper intervals of time. Before we know it, it's almost time for dinner.

'Oh, I'm sorry.' I apologise. 'We didn't have the time for your essay...'

'Thats fine.' He shrugs, extinguishing the flame which he had originally produced from his wand. 'Perhaps tomorrow after we've added the porcupine quills we can come here. I have an essay for Transfiguration that's giving me a hard time.'

'You don't mind spending your Saturday nights in the library?' I ask, raising a brow. Scorpius Malfoy is like no boy I've ever met.

'Do you?'

'No.'

'Then, no, I don't.' He slings his bag over his shoulder and levitates his cauldron, looking at me expectantly.

I pull out my wand and try to push every other thought out of my mind. I'm perfectly fine at levitating things, but when I do cauldrons they have a tendency to overturn.

It sails into the air and Scorpius leads the way to the door. I keep my eyes trained on my cauldron (which, surprisingly enough, hasn't tipped yet) and follow after him. We head off down the corridors, earning a few stares. I wonder if they're due to the fact that we're a Weasley and a Malfoy, or that we're levitating potentially dangerous potions above our heads. My companion remains silent, busy concentrating on his own potion floating above us.

'Scorpius!' Someone calls out as we enter the Entrance Hall, making our way to the dungeons. 'Mate – oh, who are you–' I turn to see Albus exiting the Great Hall, from which we can hear the chatter of students waiting for dinner. 'Rose?'

I jump in surprise at his accusing tone, loosing concentration. My cauldron comes crashing down, covering me in my half-brewed potion.

Amelie

I practically run down the corridor to dinner. I'm so excited to tell my team the news: Headmistress McGonagall approved my fundraising idea to buy new kits for the Ravenclaw quidditch team!

My happiness turns to confusion as I enter the Entrance Hall, taking in the strange scene before me. Albus Potter is waving his arms around and apologising profusely, Scorpius Malfoy is trying to clean up the rapidly spreading potion leaking from an overturned cauldron, and in the middle of it all is my seeker, soaked through and skin slowly turning sunshine yellow.

Well, at least my life isn't boring.

'Rose!' I call out, running across the hall to her, withdrawing my wand and drying her instantly. This does nothing to stop the yellowing and she whimpers loudly, drawing the attention of both of the boys.

Potter puts his hands together and pleads. 'Oh Rosie, I'm so sorry, I had no idea that you would spill your potion! Merlin! You're turning yellow!'

She whimpers again, looking somewhat like a puppy that's been kicked and left out in the rain.

'My potion...' She whispers. 'Oh! Professor Rosier is going to fail me! I don't have the time to make a new one!'

'Rose!' Malfoy suddenly steps forwards and grips her by the shoulders. 'Listen to me. If you tell the professor he'll understand. And he's not going to fail you – I'll ask if we can work together on this and we'll hand in the same potion.'

'He'll be suspicious. He knows that I can't brew half as well as you can.' She says, looking into his eyes.

'We'll just have to prove him wrong then.'

Potter looks over at me in a confused manner, but I don't know what's going on between them either so I simply return his look.

'I'll go talk to him now.' Malfoy continues, finally looking away from my seeker. 'Albus, perhaps you ought to take Rose to the Hospital Wing, to turn her pink again.'

Potter snaps into motion, picking up the empty cauldron lying on the floor in one hand and taking Rose's arm by the other. 'Come on, Rosie, let's get you fixed up.' They turn away. 'See you at dinner, mate.' He calls out to his own seeker as the blonde makes for the dungeons with a levitated cauldron.

I'm left standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall wondering many things. One being: when did Rose and Malfoy get so friendly?

Her friends have no idea when I ask them at dinner, but promise to find out for me.

'So what did you have to go ask McGonagall about, Amelie?' Nell asks as she heaps potatoes onto her plate.

'Oh!' I had completely forgotten. 'I asked her if we could hold a fundraiser in order to buy some new quidditch gear for our team. She said yes!'

'What kind of fundraiser were you thinking about doing?' Ida asks suspiciously.

'One that will appeal to the guys on the other quidditch teams.' I smile brightly at my brilliancy. 'An auction.'

'I really doubt that James Potter wants to buy my old jewellery box, Amelie.' Ruth says in a tone that bothers me.

'Not an old junk auction, a people auction!' My excitement is met with silence. 'What? Don't you think that it's brilliant?'

'Well, if someone buys me, what are they allowed to do with me?' Ruth asks, now sounding wary.

'Oh, nothing bad of course. There will be rules imposed upon the buyers, such as: no taking advantage of us, no forcing us to reveal our team secrets and other things.' I reply, cutting into my shepherd's pie.

'Great.' Ida says, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

'I think that it's a good idea.' Coraline said from beside her friend. 'When are we going to hold the auction?'

'The Friday before the next Hogsmead weekend. The buyer will 'own' us for twelve hours – from eight in the morning until eight at night of the Saturday.' I tell her. 'I want you all to dress up for the auction, we can even get Dominique Weasley involved. And you really need to sell yourself to the audience – we're trying to make big bucks here.'

'Merlin's saggy balls, she's making us sound like prostitutes.' Ruth grumbles. I sick out my tongue at her and she sticks hers back.

That's us, seventh year Ravenclaws: epitome of maturity.

'And don't forget girls, even though our next match isn't until after the holidays, we have to keep training, and keep up our tactic. Mariah and Nell on Hufflepuff, Ruth and Ida on Slytherin, and Rose and Coraline on Gryffindor.' I remind them, then search out our youngest teammate. 'Mariah, I must congratulate you on the Davies front. Rose tells me he was rather distracted during the match. Nell though... darling, it seems as though McLaggen hates you as much as ever. Did you even try?' I am a little disappointed in her.

'I spent fifteen bloody minutes with him in an alcove, Elie! For you!' She defends herself, brandishing her spoon.

'You snogged McLaggen in an alcove?' Luthe asks from my left. 'Love, I thought that you had standards!'

She throws her spoon at him. 'No you arse!' She cries, cheeks becoming a blotchy red. 'He dragged me around to spy on his seeker and we ended up in an alcove, alright? I wouldn't kiss that prick if my life fecking depended on it.'

'Language, Nell. I'm still feeling tetchy about the potion incident in the hall and I won't regret taking points.' Our lovely seeker has returned from the infirmary, looking much less yellow than before. 'You ought to go rinse your mouth with soap.'

'Oh!' Nell is all riled up now. 'Just because you've never cursed before doesn't mean that I can't!'

Rose's face turns as red as her hair, but someone interrupts her reply.

'Rose, good to see you looking pink again.' It's Malfoy again, and Potter is standing just behind him, looking on as curiously as the rest of us.

'Oh, hello Scorpius.' Rose spins in her seat to speak to him. 'Did you talk to Professor Rosier?'

'Yes, he says that it is perfectly fine if we work together on the potion, as long as we hand in our own vials.' The tall blonde runs his hand through his perfect hair. I think some fourth year down the table just swooned. That boy is too good-looking to be natural. 'So, I'll meet you tomorrow after class? And bring your Transfiguration books too – I want my fair share of this deal.'

'Alright, I'll see you then.' She pulls on a lock of hair and peers around him to look at her cousin. 'And good bye Albus. There's no need to hover like that, I'm fine.'

Then pair depart and we all turn on Rose.

'What was that all about?' Coraline asks, eyes alight.

'Scorpius Malfoy, Rose?' Nell says, her annoyance at the girl gone in the blink of an eye. 'You have the best of luck.'

'What is this deal he speaks of?' Ida asks.

'Merlin he's a good looking boy! It can't be natural.'

'That's what I was thinking!'

'And fit too–'

'Bloody brilliant flier–'

'And I hear he's a great snog.' We all look at the lone boy included in the conversation. Luthe looks up innocently from his pudding and defends himself. 'What? It's all the gossip these days.'

'Listen, I've already had the third-degree from Albus.' Rose says, ignoring our questions and comments. 'We're studying together to help each other pass Potions. That's it, that's all.'

'This is perfect though! We can use this to our advantage!' I say, mind racing. 'Don't roll your eyes at me, Rose Weasley. Through him you can infiltrate the Slytherin team! If you have a chance, look through his bag. He might keep his playbook in there.'

'I'm not going through his things–'

'But Rosie.' I whine.

'I'll think about it.' She says, ending the conversation.

I fill her in on my fundraising idea, she seems interested enough, though the rest of the team isn't, and promises to talk to Dominique for me. I then force my team onto the pitch, a grin on my face even though it's raining. Things are going smashingly.

A/n: The fundraising idea is inspired by a 'student sale' we did for grad. My group was bought by 10 staff members at the school and we made them breakfast, lunch and snacks. The Ravenclaw sale is going to go a little differently from that.
Also, Amazing F has kindly translated this story and The Gardenton Waltz, you can find a link on my profile if you'd like to read in Italian instead!