Rose
I was studying for my O.W.L.s, as usual. Defense Against the Dark Arts this time, Uncle Harry's favorite subject. I sighed as I read over my notes for the hundredth time that week. I was trying to focus, really I was, but I slowly came to the realization that I was bored to tears, and closed the book. Carefully checking for the librarian, I laid my head on top of the book and closed my eyes. I hadn't slept well the night before, and I figured that I'd only nap for a minute…
"Oh my god! Do we have a photographer in the house? It looks like Rose Weasley's napping on the job!"
I opened my bright blue eyes to stare into the cold gray pair belonging to one Scorpius Malfoy. "Bugger off, Star Boy, I was up late last night," I said irritably.
"Oh?" Scorpius plopped his ass onto the desk, making sure I got a good view. "And I suppose that's your excuse for setting a bad example, Rose? Cursing in front of first years, for shame," he said with a grin.
I rolled my eyes. "Please go die. I have better things to do than waste minutes of my life with you."
I saw something flash in his eyes. Hmm. Odd. We're always like this, and I'm sure both of us have said worse. Why should that affect him? "Oh really. Well, I'll take your word for it. Sleeping has been known to be conducive to good study habits."
I glared at him. "Really? Because I've heard the same about shagging anything that walks."
He flinched, and I smirked, thinking, Rose Weasley: one, Scorpius Malfoy: zero. I thought he was going to leave, because he got off the desk, but he turned and said, "You know, Rose, it really is. Shagging, I mean. Perhaps that's why, no matter how you study, I always beat you at Potions: no one would ever shag you."
That stung. "You'll take that back when your habits finally catch up with you and you contract some disfiguring venereal disease from some tramp!" I snapped back at him. Anyone else would have thought that I'd gone too far.
Scorpius Malfoy just laughed and said, "I'm a wizard. I don't get venereal disease."
"What if you did? Well, I'll tell you what would happen if you did. You'd die, because you wouldn't know how to cure it, because you're failing Herbology!" I shot back.
"I'm not failing, per se. Just as you're not failing Potions."
"You know, Scorpius, it might do you some good to grow a brain so you can think of a new barb," I said nastily.
"Mr. Malfoy! Ms. Weasley!" The librarian's angry screech brought both of our gazes to hers. She was marching towards us from the other side of the room. We had obviously been quite loud. Then Scorpius and I looked at each other.
"I figure this time we're in for detention. It's been the third time this week," Scorpius said.
"Should we run?"
"Abso-fucking-lutely. And I know just the place to go." He turned his eyes back to the librarian. I gathered my books and hurriedly shoved them in my bag. "Okay, on three. One, two—three!" Scorpius grabbed my hand and we were out of there.
We dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and went down various hallways. We stopped at the Room of Requirement, whose door opened easily to Scorpius' touch. This time the room was bare except for two plush armchairs sitting across from each other, one red and one green, and a tasteful rug portraying a lion and a snake in the middle of combat. Scorpius let go of my hand and we collapsed into the chairs.
I closed my eyes, panting. I heard Scorpius doing the same in his seat. Suddenly, I heard a weak laugh. I opened my eyes. "What?"
"Look at the chair you're sitting in." I did, and realized that it was deepest emerald instead of blood crimson. I stared for a while, then started giggling uncontrollably. To my surprise, instead of a weird look or a cutting remark, Scorpius laughed too. Once we'd caught our breath, he said, "That was bloody brilliant."
"I know. But we're prefects, we shouldn't…"
"Oh, have some fun once in a while, will you?"
I bit back a reply along the lines of "Well, you have too much fun," although it was true. Scorpius and I had both become prefects this year, but to my mind, I was far superior. After all, Scorpius was late to all the meetings, and once he came in, he was ridiculously immature, peppering any conversation with "that's what she said!" and the like. Never mind the fact that his platinum blond hair was mussed and his shirttails out, his eyes glassy and his lips swollen, which somehow caused me to get ten times more annoyed at him—he was a complete git. And he missed his duties routinely, and somehow I always had to cover for him. Not that he ever appreciated it, oh no. Scorpius Malfoy was going to show up late to his duties with no more explanation than his disheveled appearance without so much as a grateful look until the end of time.
"Rose," said Scorpius insistently.
"What?"
"I…" he looked pained. "I didn't mean what I said before. About no one wanting to shag you. I mean, you're—you're all right."
I laughed, but there was a bitter tang to the sound. "I'm flattered by your eloquent praise, Star Boy." I sighed. "But I accept your apology. And… I probably shouldn't have said… a lot of the things I said back there," I said, going a bit red.
Scorpius waved a hand. "I'll live. That one about wasting minutes of your life with me was particularly scathing, however."
"Yeah, I—I shouldn't have said it. After all, if you hadn't been there, I would have fallen into the dread clutches of the librarian," I said, smiling.
Scorpius smirked, raising his eyebrows. "If I hadn't been there, we wouldn't have fought in the first place."
I shrugged. "C'est la vie."
"Ooh, French. Hot, Rosie." Scorpius' gray eyes were laughing, but they'd lost that awful mocking glint.
I just rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "Don't you ever turn yourself off?"
"Turn myself off? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
I sighed, twirling a piece of auburn hair introspectively. "I mean, you always—well, to be frank, you act like you've the libido of a rabbit."
Scorpius blinked. "What the—a rabbit?"
"Yeah, you know—they breed like rabbits?" I said, quoting the expression. I felt a bit ridiculous. It was a weird analogy.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm not surprised you're Hermione Granger's daughter. And I have got the libido of a rabbit. It's painful," he said, making puppy eyes, "I have to make sure I have a good shag at least four times a—"
"Shut up! I don't want to hear it! Ugh, you're unimaginably disgusting," I cried.
"I was going to say month."
"That's once a week, you man-whore."
"I won't deny it."
I shared an exasperated look with the ceiling. Then my eyes snapped back to Scorpius's face. "You never answered my question. Do you ever turn yourself off?"
"Isn't that rhetorical?"
"Now it isn't," I said triumphantly.
Scorpius shifted, uncomfortable. "Well, I—mostly when I'm with you."
I wasn't surprised at the answer, really—just surprised at how awkward he seemed to feel. "Well, we are fighting ninety percent of the time. I'd imagine that you wouldn't want to flirt with me while I'm calling you a man-whore. It'd just prove my point," I joked, trying to put him at ease.
He gave a barely perceptible swallow. "Yeah, guess you're right. Um, I've got to go to class, and I imagine you do as well." He brushed off his robes. "Be seeing you, Weasley."
"See you around, Malfoy," I rejoined simply, surprised.
