A/N: Yaaayy early chapter.

This has been written when I was really supposed to be paying attention at a lecture. I wonder if the person behind me had been sneaking a few peeks at what I was writing. Hopefully they do not think I'm crazy. 'Cause I'm most definitely not. I'm serious. I think.

--

This Can't Be

The first few weeks back were relatively easy for Scorpius; the workload somehow did not seem as bad as he expected it to be and the Quidditch season looked like it belonged to his house this year; they remained undefeated-well Ravenclaw was also undefeated but that did not matter to him at the moment.

What made the new year even better was that Tatia Schultz had been avoiding him almost entirely, save for a small wave or a smile whenever they passed each other. This had to be the best year yet.

It was now the first week of February; Scorpius had just finished classes for the day and was heading out to Quidditch practice. Snow laced the floor and the sky was a crisp, clear blue; the sun shone directly overhead and it reflected off the snow, blinding everybody. He hoped the glare would not affect practice today.

He heard a few familiar voices in the distance and he automatically turned to look at the beech tree by the lake; he found it kind of odd to find a group of students sitting under a tree in such cold weather. Rose and her many relatives were gathered in an unorganized semi-circle, just talking. The sun dappled on her bronze tendrils and her dark blue eyes were visible even from where he was standing. She threw her head back and laughed at something her brother had just said; he could hear her laughter as if he was sitting right beside her. The wind swished in the trees and ruffled her jacket. He imagined the tiny group of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Lately the world had become more attuned, more interesting to him for some reason, as if he actually now had a reason to pay attention to his surroundings.

She noticed him standing there and she inclined her head a little to smile at him; his breathing stopped for a minute and he managed to wave back. That smile, the same smile that was the reason he was able to conjure a Patronus, it was all for him, in those few seconds that she looked over to him above the heads of her fellow Weasleys. Nothing else mattered except for that smile whenever he saw it. His father, his mother, his sister, Tatia, his Slytherin friends, they no longer existed when she smiled. Only she did.

"Oi, Malfoy! Whatcha starin' over there for? It's time for practice, mate." Theo shouted over the chilly breeze, and Scorpius was dragged back into reality. She was no longer looking at him, he noticed. She resumed her cheerful conversation with her brothers, sisters, and cousins. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, making the back stick up, and continued walking, making sure not to slip on the ice lining the stone path.

--

The cold had finally gotten to them and the Weasley family decided to resume the rest of their day in the warmth of the Gryffindor common room. Rose slumped in her squashy armchair, sighing as the roaring fire melted the numbness in her limbs. Hugo and Jane were lying on their stomachs by her feet, immersed in a game of chess (the both of them inherited Ron's knack for the game), and everyone else was watching them. Randy sat with his back against the side of Rose's chair, strumming an acoustic guitar. He was probably the most 'Muggle-washed' out of the family; he loved Muggle rock music and that particularly dangerous pastime, skateboarding. He started a band with three other Muggle-born students, called The Whomping Willows. Rose had to admit that they had skill; she had heard them play before.

"Oh, it's Al. Looks like he's finished for the day." Dominique piped up, and everyone's heads turned towards the portrait hole. Rose felt a jolt of excitement; she had not seen Albus on the train, and she wondered why he had been hiding. Lily had been oddly quiet about her brother since they came back to school, but whenever someone mentioned him she would break into a fit of strained giggles. Now that Albus was here in front of them, they could plainly see why he had gone into hiding in the first place. In all essence Albus was still Albus, but now he was wearing a pair of glasses with rectangular lenses and a black frame. Lily rolled on her back and laughed hysterically, her legs kicking up in the air. Mandy held her stomach because it ached from giggling. Hugo, Jane, Dominique, Roxanne, and Rose stared with wide eyes and slack jaws. Randy stopped playing his guitar.

"Oh, hello there Uncle Harry. So nice of you to drop in." Hugo grinned, and Albus gave him a rude hand gesture. The black haired boy moved to plop down on the armchair across Rose's, a sour look on his face. Rose gave him a sympathetic smile.

"They don't look so bad, and at least you got different ones from your Dad's." She suggested, but Albus was still scowling. He pushed up his glasses with his index finger before crossing his arms in a stubborn manner.

"Why didn't I see this coming? Why?" He muttered, and the brilliant green eyes behind the rectangular shaped lenses flicked over to Rose's dark blue ones, "Dad was mad enough to suggest a pair that looked exactly like his, but fortunately I found these ones. You should've seen James' face when he found out I needed these; couldn't stop laughing for at least an hour, I swear."

Rose giggled at the thought of James Potter laughing at his younger brother simply because he had to get glasses. At nineteen everyone thought he would grow out of his childish manner, but then again her cousin Fred was no different.

"So you gotta wear them all the time, eh?" Randy asked. Albus nodded glumly, the flames from the fireplace reflecting on his shiny rectangular lenses.

"You look smart with them on. Maybe it'll help you improve on your schoolwork." Roxanne teased. Albus groaned and clamped his eyes shut as his relatives laughed. Randy began strumming sporadically, jokingly belting out random lyrics that had to do something with Albus' glasses and his uncanny resemblance to his father, and everyone joined in. Rose leaned forward to give her best friend a pat on the knee. Nobody liked to be compared to their parents, especially if their father was the famous Harry Potter, and out of all people her family should have understood and respected that. She gave him an 'I'm-sorry-on-behalf-of-our-entire-family' look, and he waved it off.

"We should be used to this by now." He muttered. Rose did not say anything back; she agreed with him completely.

--

It had been nearly an hour since practice ended, but Scorpius' teeth were still chattering from the February chill. It was late now; the sky had darkened to a rich blue and the stars were just beginning to come out. It looked almost as pretty as her. Almost.

He dragged his feet all the way down to the dungeons with the Goyle brothers in tow. He could hardly feel his legs. After muttering the password, he moved into the garish green aura of the Slytherin common room and nearly collapsed on the black leather armchair by the cackling fire. The Goyle brothers lugged all the way upstairs to their dormitories. Holden was seated in the armchair across from him, immersed in a book.

"Why don't you ever go to the prefects' common room? You get more peace and quiet there." Holden insisted. Scorpius raised an eyebrow at his friend, but he realized that the darker boy was not looking directly at him. Holden's dark eyes seemed to be looking past him, and Scorpius looked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. Tatia, who was not standing so far away, immediately whipped her head back towards one of her giggly perky friends, as if she was just caught staring at him the entire time.

"She's always looking at you when you're not paying attention." Holden said flatly as he closed his book and set it on his lap. Scorpius frowned and ruffled the back of his head with his hand, his joints still frozen from outside. He thought he saw the last of Tatia…

"Jealous, are we? I can't blame you; I'm quite irresistable." When Holden did not even crack a grin, Scorpius coughed awkwardly into his fist and continued on, "Guess I'm not completely out of her head yet," He said sheepishly, "but it's not like I want to be. I don't know how to deal with her anymore-I'm completely fresh out of ideas."

"And might I add, the first Hogsmeade weekend is coming up." Holden said, his gaze towards the fireplace. Scorpius' frown deepened.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked slowly, and leaned forward a little. Holden rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You're really bad with dates, aren't you?" He muttered exasperatingly, and Scorpius' grey eyes narrowed, "It's a couple Saturdays from now- Valentine's Day."

"WHAT?!"

Everybody in the common room turned to stare at the Slytherin Quidditch captain, who was now on the edge of his seat with his fingers digging into the armrests. His eyes, which flickered with the reflection of the fire, were as wide as Bludgers and they were staring straight into Holden's bored, half-open ones.

"Yep, thought you wouldn't know." Holden leaned back and opened his book. Scorpius cursed under his breath and his hand jumped to his hair. In the distance Tatia was giggling. It grated against his veins.

"So you're saying-"

"-she probably wants you to ask her. Why else would she be staring at you when you're not looking?" Holden interrupted, though his eyes were still fixed on his book, "I guess she's trying to take on a different approach, as in she isn't going to be so upfront about it this time. She's letting you take the lead. She's expecting you to do it."

Great, this was just great. Scorpius flattened his back against the chair, both of his hands in his hair this time. He groaned in defeat.

"Hasn't she thought of the possibility that I-oh, I don't know-don't want to ask her to bloody Hogsmeade?" Scorpius' voice thinned to a whisper just in case Tatia was eavesdropping, and he had a very strong feeling that she was. Holden shrugged his shoulders and flipped to a new page. He still did not look up from his book; Scorpius assumed it was a very interesting story, but it was not like he cared. He hated reading.

Rose likes to read, his conscience added, and he mentally slapped himself.

"She's part Veela, Malfoy," Holden replied casually, "she's used to getting what she wants, and if she doesn't get it right away she's bound to get her hands on it somehow."

"Thanks for the support, mate." Scorpius grumbled, and Holden waved the sarcasm off with a hand. The room was now suspiciously quiet; both of the boys turned to look behind Scorpius' armchair. Tatia was gone. Knowing that it was safe to go, Scorpius stretched and rose from his seat.

"Well, I best be off for the night then. See you later." He muttered before turning to head for the stairs.

"Say, didn't the prefects' common room used to have dormitories for the Head Boy and Girl? Why aren't you staying there instead?" Holden inquired, looking up from his book to stare at his friend. Scorpius gave him a grim smirk.

"Well, they used to have dormitories until some years back when McGonagall found out that the Head Boy and Girl haven't been exactly sleeping in their separate dormitories...actually I don't think they've been sleeping at all."

The dark boy's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then returned to their usual half-open state. He cleared his throat a little before continuing.

"So why aren't you going to ask her, Malfoy? Is it because you really don't want to go with her, or is it because of something-or someone I should say-else?"

Holden's voice caught Scorpius dead in his steps. He did not bother to turn around to face his reading friend, for he feared he would see the very obvious pink flush painted on his pallid cheeks. Instead he resumed his walk and shuffled all the way to his dormitory, trying his hardest to drown out Holden's snickering from behind.

--

"Al, that's not how you spell Chimaera-"

"Really? Maybe these stupid glasses are playing tricks on my eyes. Perhaps I should take them off-"

"Very funny."

It was study time in the library and Albus needed help (as usual) on his Care of Magical Creatures essay. Rose, who had finished hers days ago, had nothing better to do and decided to edit Albus' rough draft. The parchment was stained with Rose's red inked corrections: there were strict, quick red lines that tore straight through Albus' incorrectly spelled or unnecessary words, and there were big circles, squiggly lines, and little notes of advice scrawled everywhere.

"I don't think I can see the colour of the parchment anymore." Albus said miserably as Rose handed him his essay. He held the scroll away at arms' length, as if looking at it from a distance would improve its image. Rose giggled and corked her ink bottle.

"Well with all of those corrections hopefully you'll be able to write a better final draft." She said. She was too busy laughing at Albus' sombre expression to hear footsteps coming towards her.

"Rather colourful piece of work you have there, Al." Damien chuckled as he took a seat in between the two Gryffindors, "How were your holidays?"

"They were pretty good," Rose grinned, recalling the eventful two weeks with her large family, "spent a lot of time with the relatives. How about you?"

"Pretty much the same thing, without magic of course." Damien smiled back; he raised an eyebrow at Albus, who was now turning his essay upside down in his hands, "You've got glasses, Potter? No wonder you've been looking smarter these days."

Albus grumbled and pushed his glasses up with his index finger, but did not bother to say anything coherent. Rose placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.

"He's very sensitive about it since his dad needs them too. He deliberately picked a pair that looked nothing like his dad's so he wouldn't have to look exactly like him." She said softly, and Damien nodded in understanding.

"Good for him. Must be hard to always be compared with your parents. I wouldn't know." He admitted. Rose waved it off dismissively.

"Yeah, it gets quite annoying at times, but after having it done to you your entire life you kinda get used to it." She replied lightly. Damien rested his elbows on the table, his eyes glazing over with that faraway look. Rose frowned; he was thinking of something.

"Um, y'know…" Damien started hesitantly; it was odd to have him sound so uncertain of himself. Rose cocked her head to the side and looked at him in confusion.

"What is it?" She asked quietly. His dark brown eyes slid onto her blue ones.

"In two weeks th-"

"Weasley." A smooth, deep voice popped up from behind, startling her. The voice sounded almost identical to Damien's, except that it sounded unimpressed. Bored.

After making the connection, her heart began to beat sporadically as she spun around in her seat to look up at Scorpius Malfoy, who was dressed in his usual disheveled style of uniform. She could hear Damien and Albus muttering angrily behind her.

"H-hello, Scorpius. What brings you here?" She asked breathily; she melted when he threw her his usual smirk.

"I need to talk to you." He replied emotionlessly, always to the point. She nodded and rose from her seat; she gave Damien and Albus an apologetic look before moving to follow Scorpius across the library, off into a secluded part where nobody could see them. They were standing in between towering bookshelves, crammed with books that had been published decades before they were born.

"Why did you lead me all the way out here? Surely it can't be that important." Rose said slowly. He chuckled, a low bass rumble at the back of his throat. It sounded so perfect to her. The dim light hanging above them whitened his hair and cast dark shadows against his sharp features. He looked so perfect to her.

And he was not supposed to be.

"It isn't," He admitted, and his hand moved to the back of his head, "but I think it would be best if I tol-asked you without anybody hearing."

Rose raised an eyebrow. What could he ask, and why bother asking if it was not so important anyway? Feeling rather impatient, she leaned on one leg and crossed her arms, looking very much like her mother.

"Well, I'm waiting then. Ask away." She said haughtily, her foot tapping against the floor. Scorpius cringed at her annoyance. She really did not mean to sound so bossy, but some things just could not be helped.

"Okay, well in a couple of weeks there's gonna be the first Hogsmeade weekend of the new year," He was speaking so quickly she almost did not understand him, "and I don't know if you know but this just so happens to be on Valentine's Day, and I was wonderingifyouwantedtocomewithme."

Giggling at his nervousness, which was so out of character for him, Rose leaned in a little closer and cupped a hand to her ear, though she knew perfectly well what he just asked her.

"Come again? I don't think I heard the last part properly." She said with a mischievous grin that would have made her Uncle George proud; Scorpius gulped, the Adam's Apple in his throat bobbing up and down, and repeated his last words slowly and coherently.

"I. Was. Wondering. If. You. Wanted. To. Come. With. Me." He emphasized each word with a short pause at the end. Rose nearly collapsed from excitement.

Scorpius Malfoy was asking her out to a Valentine's Hogsmeade weekend, and he did not even bother to ask Tatia Schultz! Oh, this definitely had to mean something.

I thought you said this whole liking thing was wrong.

Oh Merlin, it did not matter now. He just asked her to bloody Hogsmeade! On Valentine's Day! She had all the time in the world to worry about what was right and what was wrong later.

"Of course I'll go with you." She said as calmly as she could and flashed him a smile. The corners of his mouth twitched a little in a very quick grin and his shoulders slumped a little, relaxed.

"Oh, good then." His eyes averted hers for a moment, then they came back, "I'll see you there, I suppose."

And just like that, he brushed past her as if they were just passing by on their way to class. Rose leaned back towards one of the bookshelves, her chest heaving in a dreamy sigh and her gaze cast upwards. She felt stupid and ridiculously giddy; several tingling sensations were coursing up and down her spine and her fingertips felt a little numb. As odd and absolutely wrong as it was to be feeling this way, she could not help but admit, even just the tiniest bit, that she enjoyed it. Out of nowhere she burst into a fit of giggles and she covered her mouth with a hand, not willing to risk getting thrown out of the library or at least getting a good scolding from Madam Pince.

Was this how Elizabeth Bennet felt when she finally realized her true feelings for Mr. Darcy? Was this how her mother felt when she figured out her long-time affections for her father?

No, it could not. Though Mr. Darcy seemed like the wrong person in the beginning, he was actually a gentleman the entire time-it was Elizabeth's fault for not seeing this, and her mother...well, it was pretty much the same ordeal.

You thought Scorpius was a rotten, good-for-nothing toerag the moment you met him, and now, nearly seven years later, you're thinking exactly the opposite. How different would you be from Elizabeth and your mother?

There was only one difference between her, Elizabeth Bennet, and Hermione Granger-Weasley: there really was no indication in the story that Elizabeth was not allowed to fall in love with Mr. Darcy; it was just her stubbornness and pride that put her affections on hold. Hermione was not so different.

They had no restrictions, no rules saying that they were not allowed to fall in love with them; they had the freedom to feel whatever they wanted.

Rose sighed again and sunk to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She was not allowed to feel this way. She can't.

It's kind of late to be thinking such things, don't you think? You just accepted his invitation to that Valentine Hogsmeade weekend.

Going to Hogsmeade with him did not necessarily have to be romantic. Maybe she could just make it a 'friendly outing'.

Oh, but what's the fun in that?

No. She can't. All good things had to come to an end, and this would undoubtedly end in some kind of disaster if they were to propel forward as they were now.

Think of the family. Think of both of their families.

I can't be feeling this way, she thought miserably as she buried her face in her hands. Her eyes began to sting and she clamped them shut.

But you can't help it.

And that's what hurts the most.

She did not bother to argue this time, because she agreed with it completely.