Scorpius

It had been an irritating day. I wasn't even sure why, but some small part of me muttered something about her not being at Potions today. I brushed it off. I was walking towards Hogwarts Lake, where I would sit in my favorite tree and be alone, damn it.

But of course the Weasley girl was there to mess it up. There she was, sitting with all the audacity that loosely curled red hair and those blue eyes and those curves whose origins I could but guess at could muster, in my tree. Don't drool, Scorpius, it looks bad on you, I thought sardonically, And anyway, what do you care about Weasley? I walked boldly up to the tree and tugged on her slender, bare foot, for lack of a better way to get her attention, of course.

"What the bloody—" she leaned over and I had to remind myself not to drool again. She was wearing a peach tank top and slant-hemmed green skirt. Of course, I only noticed the top. Damn, has she filled out! I mean—er—what disgusting Weasley freckles.

"You know, if you stopped wearing those bloody robes all the time, I wouldn't be the only guy that talks to you who's not related."

She rolled her eyes and snapped, "What do you want, Scorpius?"

You, you, you, damn it all! I sighed. No point in even attempting to deny it any longer. It's easy when she's not in front of me. But even when she's arguing with me these days, even when there's hatred and venom dripping from every word exiting our lips, I still want to lick the venom off of hers, though I know it'll kill me. I smirked slightly. Melodramatic much, Malfoy? I can imagine her voice, which is a little disconcerting, since she's right in front of me. "You're in my bloody tree, Weasley."

"It's not your bloody tree, you entitled prat!"

"Actually, it is. Ask anyone. I come here at least once a week."

She smiled sardonically. "Define 'come' in this context, Malfoy."

I swear, I wanted to kiss her so badly right then. "Naughty, naughty, Weasley," I said with an easy smirk, "I've always liked a girl who could talk dirty."

She blushed and said, "You've always liked a girl, period."

I tugged on her foot again. "That's not true. Just because I fuck someone doesn't mean I like them."

That elicited a reaction I wasn't prepared for. Rose's face hardened and she jerked her foot away from me, sending me sprawling onto the grass. "You're disgusting."

"Hey, Rose…" I wanted to grab that foot again, if only to touch her, but I didn't for fear of personal safety. "I didn't mean it. You know that."

She sighed, dangling her foot again. "It's hard to tell with you, Malfoy."

"Call me Scorpius, won't you?" I touched her calf tentatively.

She looked down at me with a devilish grin. "No." And carried on reading, just letting me stand there stupidly, holding onto her foot. Since when can Weasley play hard to get?

After about twenty minutes, I cracked and asked, "You figure there's room up there, Weasley?"

"I figure you're going out of your mind if you actually want to sit near me. However, there's a bit of space." That hurt, even though I knew she was right—I was going insane, no doubt about it—but the pain was dispelled when she obligingly moved a few inches. I clambered up next to her. We sat, if not companionably, then at least tolerably, until she spoke again: "Do you plan on just sitting there, Scorpius?"

"Depends on the chances of you calling me by my first name again."

"Oh, well, for that you'd have to sit here a thousand years," she said, but she was smiling.

"I would, too." I blurted, but of course, thanks to my Malfoy charm, it sounded entirely intentional.

Rose looked at me, staring searchingly into my eyes. Fine with me, since it meant I could stare into hers uninhibited. "What's been up with you lately?"

"Absolutely nothing. Rabbit libido, remember?" I said, my breathing speeding up a bit as I realized I could kiss her, right now. And she couldn't do anything about it without falling out of the tree. Knowing her, though, she probably would rather fall out of a tree than kiss me, I thought. It was depressing, but it was funny too, so I smiled.

"No, but you must be really desperate, because if I'm not imagining it, you've been hitting on me too."

I scoffed. "You're imagining it, Weasley. And even if you weren't—well, so what if I was?"

She frowned. "If you were, I'd be seriously worried as to the state of your mental health."

"Oh, you're not all that bad, Rose." Looking delectable today, too.

She rolled her eyes. "That wasn't really the point, Scorpius."

"So it was a dig at me?"

"Well, no… I mean, it'd just… it'd be weird, wouldn't it? What with my cousin being your best friend. And then the matter of us being of different houses. And then our parents…" Rose shook her head. "This is really awkward. Just forget about it."

"It is quite awkward. Almost too awkward for me to use as insult fodder later on." This earned me a whack on the arm. "Ouch," I said pointedly.

"Your fault."

I muttered something about it being unfair, it was my damn tree, and she'd no right to be trying to hit me out of it. "So why were you absent for Potions?"

"Had a stomachache."

"Glad you're better."

She smiled. "Curious, Malfoy. Now you're making me suspicious."

"What, I can't be glad you're better?"

"No. If I'm not at Potions, I can't tell you whatever you're doing is wrong."

"But you're usually wrong about that."

"Well, there you go."

Just then, the cousin she had mentioned not five minutes ago appeared beneath the tree. "Christ, Scor, there you are! I thought you'd learned to Apparate early," said Albus Severus Potter, smiling up at me.

I smiled. "Who says I haven't?"

However, Al wasn't looking at me, but at his redheaded cousin. "Rosie? Is that you sitting in a tree with my best friend, who also happens to be your worst enemy?"

"Actually, I'm Godric Gryffindor in disguise, but close enough," Rose replied sarcastically, turning a page.

Al stared up at us wide-eyed. "But—shouldn't one of you be strangling the other by now?"

I waved a hand in mock dismissal. "Too much work."

"Take too long. He's got a whole head full of air."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't keep back a grin. Rose wore a small triumphant smirk of her own.

"Why are you two being civil to each other? Has the world turned upside down?"

"No, but you'll be if you don't shut up," Rose said airily. Her eyes hadn't left her book during the whole conversation, I realized, and smiled. Typical Weasley.

"Anyway, Scor, I want to steal my dad's cloak from James and go cause trouble."

I looked at Rose, who surprisingly looked back up at me. She smiled, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but it seemed as though a ray of sun flashed across her face, illuminating it with a blinding brilliance. "Go scare some Hufflepuffs," she murmured diplomatically, and went back to reading. I climbed down and swore to myself I'd take pictures of their frightened little faces to share with her.