The next thing I knew, I was warm and comfortable with sunshine on my face. I opened my eyes. I was still on a bunch of cushions on the floor, sprawled sideways. Covering me was the comforter from the guest room; it must have been Scorpius' doing…Scorpius….Aw, fuck. The fuzzy memories of the night before all came back in a rush. I put my face into one of the pillows and groaned, then looked at the clock. It was seven fifteen. I got up, noticing the big crinkly sleep-creases on my forearms, etched red and white into my pale skin.

I stretched my arms up into the air and touched my toes, working out the kinks, glad that I'm not the sort of person that gets hangovers. There's no middle ground there; either you get them, or you don't. Al gets them, and Louis and I don't, much to his displeasure. So, basically, today I either give him some of Mum's hangover cure or yell in his ear, depending on how annoying he's being.

I headed into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight that waited for me. Malfoy (yes, after last night, he was Malfoy again), standing in the middle of the kitchen in ripped jeans and a sloppy t-shirt, barefoot, hands on hips, facing the coffee maker.

'Malfoy?' He turned.

'I know what it is; I just don't know how it works. And I don't want to just start pushing buttons in case one of them is the self destruct.'

'Good plan.' If he wasn't going to bring up last night, neither was I.

I got the jar of coffee from the bottom shelf and looked at the clock; seven twenty, ten minutes.

'I got the kettle on for your tea!' he said proudly, pointing to the stove. Sure enough, there was a kettle full of water sitting on the burner, doing absolutely shit nothing. I looked at the dial; it was set on the lowest setting. It was almost cute, how rumpled and proud of himself he was.

'You do know that your boxers have dinosaurs on them, don't you?' I said conversationally, scooping coffee into a filter.

To my delight, he blushed as he hitched his jeans up. 'I do know that, actually. My mother bought them for me. She had trouble accepting the fact that I'm seventeen. Well, nearly seventeen. In…six days.'

I pressed the 'On' button and sidled over to the stove. 'Six days? Your birthday's next Friday?' Pretending to wipe something off of the back of the stove, I surreptitiously turned the burner up to the highest setting.

Then I sat on the counter and looked at him.

His white-blond hair was mussed, and his cheeks were still flushed from sleep. His black t-shirt made the colours in his eyes stand out even more and I wondered how I'd never noticed them until yesterday. He was well over six feet, slender but muscular. He sat on one of the stools, one leg pulled up to his chest, fiddling with the frayed cuff of his jeans. I glanced at the clock; five minutes. Enough time for toast.

I put two slices in and got out the marmalade. When they popped, I spread them with marmalade and wrapped them in a navy blue cloth napkin. I poured coffee into a Muggle travel mug, added sugar and put the lid on tightly. The clock read seven twenty nine.

I spread the jeans over the back of the chair nearest the hall door and picked up the blazer on the coat rack by the kitchen door. Then I looked at Malfoy.

'Just sit there. Don't say anything loud; don't make any sudden moves.' We heard a bump down the hall. I looked at the clock.

Five…four…three…two…one… The hall door opened. In came my father, eyes at half-mast, clad in boxers and a clean black t-shirt. He pulled on the jeans, then the blazer I offered him. I put the coffee in one hand, the toast in the other, and then he walked over to the fireplace, had a difficult moment juggling everything, and then disappeared with a shout of 'Ministry of Magic'.

'That was exceedingly strange.' Malfoy was staring at the fireplace.

'That is what happens every day when I'm home. The rest of the time, Mum has a spell set up to do it.' I looked at the fireplace fondly. 'In about five minutes, he'll reach his office, sit down, take a sip of his coffee, look at the calendar and realize that it's Saturday and he's supposed to be at Shell Cottage.'

I turned back to the kitchen, taking out the small teapot. (You have to remember, this is all relative. Their small teapot is a bit smaller than a regular Brown Betty; their large is big enough for the entire Weasley clan and has to be lifted by magic when full.) I put in two teabags and poured in the contents of the whistling kettle, then turned to Malfoy.

'What shall I make for breakfast?' I asked.

'Um…' The clock chimed softly, like I'd set it to. I took down another mug, filled it with coffee, added a splash of milk and screwed the lid on tight. I stood in the doorway with it.

'Okay, now don't say anything. When you are acknowledged, grunt, but don't speak.' He opened his mouth to object but I put my finger to my lips, shushing him.

We heard footsteps coming down the hall, and then my mother entered the room, wearing casual clothes in an immaculately neat way and carrying a large carry bag, looking not one bit hung-over (she's like me.). I handed her the coffee, she thanked me and kissed my cheek.

'Morning, Louis,' she said to Malfoy, who had his head down, and he grunted as asked. She thanked me again and disappeared.

'Are they gone?' Malfoy whispered, shifting his eyes right and left. 'Are there any more? Are they going to start parading in an exceedingly predictable manner?'

'Nope, that's it. And they're my parents. They're just like that in the mornings, have been my whole life, with the exception of when my mother was pregnant with Hugo.'

'Why doesn't your father Apparate to work?'

'He's too asleep. He doesn't want to splinch himself, so he uses Floo Powder. The cost is smaller than the gain, especially since the Ministry reimburses him half of his travel cost.' I poured myself a cup of the tea and took a sip. 'So, back to the earlier question; what should we have for breakfast? ¿Que tenemos para el desayuno? That's Spanish, but I'm not very good. It actually means 'What do we have for breakfast?', which is close enough for government work, and we all work for those bastards.' He blinked at me. 'French toast! How do you feel about French toast?' He blinked at me again. 'Fat lot of help you are.'

Soon I was teaching him to make French toast, which is one of the easiest things on the planet. The previous Christmas, I'd taught Saffron, my six-year-old cousin, and he was nearly seventeen and having trouble, which amused me. Hugo ambled in at some point and Lou Flooed in, still in his pyjama's, to get away from the wedding insanity at his house.

He stepped out of the fireplace, started to say good morning, and then stopped, a manic grin spreading across his face. He came over and stood next to me as I flipped the French toast.

'Rosie?' Lou whispered in my ear.

'Yeah?' One piece was sticking to the pan, and ripping when I tried to get it up.

'Why are you wearing Malfoy's shirt?'

I glanced down in horror to see that last night, in the drunkenness and the dark, I'd put on the wrong shirt. I looked back up into Louis' grinning, too-perceptive face.

'If you ever mention this, I will hex you into oblivion.'

He snorted. 'Yeah, like I'm stupid enough to do that.' He looked at Malfoy, then back at me. 'That being said, you got some 'splainin' to do.'

I just shook my head and waved him off, making a mental note to change, soon.

I handed coffee to Hugo and tea to Louis (he says he gets hyper from caffeine. Since hyper for Louis is anyone else's calm, I don't think it's a concern, but whatever, it's his choice.) After he'd had some tea to wake himself up, Lou set the table and put out a bowl of grapes, and the four of us had a lovely civilized breakfast in my kitchen. With Malfoy. Who woulda thunk it.

It was all too soon that we had to Floo over to Shell Cottage and join the wedding insanity. As soon as I stepped (erm, fell) out of the fireplace, I was swallowed up by the crowds of people. It was only family, no one else was there yet, which was merciful, because family is more than enough to scare the hell out of anyone.

I got jostled around the house, and then out the door into the cool sea air. Out here, too, chaos reigned, but at least I could breathe. I looked around for someone my age, and found no one. What I did see was my uncle Charlie, trying to spell tablecloths not to fly away with Scarlet on one hip and Saffron so close he nearly stepped on her. I laughed at how hassled he looked, then took charge of the girls, taking them away from the crowds of people.

I was teaching them to make daisy chains when a shadow fell on me. I turned, dreading what I might find. And, sure enough, it was Indy and Dom. (insert intake of breath through teeth, indicating torture to come)

'Rose.'

'Yes Dominique?'

'You need to get dressed.'

'I am dressed.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Dressed for the wedding. The aunts are all inside; don't keep them waiting. We'll take the girls.'

I rolled my eyes, then left, dragging my feet and muttering to myself. I hate dresses, weddings and women, especially my aunts. No, that's a lie, I love my aunts. I hate what they're like about dresses and weddings.

I entered the cottage and was instantly surrounded by bustling women, doing their hair, putting on make-up and wearing dresses. It scared the shit out of me. I practically strong-armed my way through them like a football player before collapsing in a corner, behind a rack of dresses. I turned my head and got a start from seeing Indigo next to me.

'Nice try, Rosie. Just get dressed, and we'll make this as painless as possible.' I flinched as she grabbed me around the top of my arm and propelled me towards the racks of dresses. She handed me mine and stood there, just looking at me. 'You know I won't leave until you give up and put it on already.'

She was already wearing her own dress, along with a mulish expression. I threw my hands up in the air and put the dress on, leaving my clothes folded neatly and placed on top of my shoes in the corner, where no one would look for them.

'Quit flinching!' Indy ordered. 'Or I'll put a Freezing Charm on your face!'

'You're poking me in the eye with a pencil! Do you expect me to be calm?'

I hate women.

Half an hour later, I had been put through makeup and hair hell, and had made it out alive, even with the part of my dignity that hated heels intact; in exchange for me wearing the dress, I'd bargained wearing pretty ballet flats instead. I slipped out of the cottage, skulking around the back, hoping that no one would see me, and then someone touched my arm, sending my blood pressure skyrocketing.

'Rose? Are you okay?' Oh Merlin no, it was Malfoy. I felt my cheeks begin to turn red.

'No, I mean, yeah, I'm fine.' Why did I have to be cursed with a redhead's blush?'I'm fine.' I repeated.

'I'm sure you are,' Scorpius said. I looked him up and down. He was wearing black dress pants and a charcoal grey shirt. He wasn't wearing a tie, and I mentioned it.

'Yeah, well, it's with my jacket. I don't want to wear it until I strictly have to, if you don't mind. I hate wearing them; they make me feel overdressed.'

'Now you know how I feel in a dress!' I replied. 'It's like the whole world is staring at me! I hate it!'

'Rose, breathe. I, for one, think that you look absolutely beautiful.' I glared at him. 'No, really, it's the truth.'

'Then I thank you for the compliment, as the well-mannered young lady that I supposedly am. And as the Rose Weasley that I actually am, I say that if you ever mention this ever again to anyone, I will hex you into jelly.'

'Understood.' He held out his arm to me. I looked at it suspiciously. 'Come on, Rose. We're in fancy clothes, we have a truce, it only seems right that we should walk like we belong in a Jane Austen novel.' I laughed and took his arm.

'How do you know about Jane Austen?' I asked as we wandered around the cottage, towards the cliffs-edge path.

'My mum read them; she's a fanatic. She watches the Muggle movies, too, and I remember being a little kid and being fascinated by the way they talked. So when I was older, I read one, and was completely taken in by the words, whither and perchance, and how funny it was, but in a really subtle way, sort of like Shakespeare.'

'I know, Merlin, how funny is he! I especially love Twelfth Night, it's my favourite.'

'Yeah, Twelfth Night and A Midsummer Night's Dream. And Romeo and Juliet.'

'Oh, no, I officially can't even be on truce with you anymore. I hate Romeo and Juliet. It's just so soppy and insipid. Two thirteen-year-olds falling in love and hatching an elaborate plan to be together before they've even hit puberty, and in this end dying through an error of miscommunication. Ick.'

'Ah, the world is full of cynics. I myself am a romantic, so I believe deeply and desperately in the power of love.'

'And I doubt its existence, loverboy.'

'Well, I suppose one of us will find out, won't we?' he asked.

'Or mayhap both of us will. We find what we seek, although it wasn't there until we sought it. It's human nature.'

'To love is human nature.'

'To love is to set yourself up for disappointment.'

'Piffle.' And with that profound statement, he turned around and began to walk away.

'Scorpius, wait!' He stopped and turned. 'Don't leave me alone in this madness.' I pleaded.

He looked at me and his face changed. He didn't say anything for a moment, and then he smiled oddly. 'You know, you really do look beautiful.' He came back over and held out his arm again. I took it, more confused than ever.

A/N: Okay, so this chapter took me months, literally. I've been working on other things, mostly my novel, and I've only been writing like, 100 words at a time, so it's taken eons.

Thank you to my loveable readers! Please review!

-Elle